Post by winstonsmith on Jun 29, 2013 22:55:44 GMT
As the morning mists reluctantly surrendered the bleak saltmarsh to the light of day the tower finally slipped into view. General Koenraad Vanderkamp could not see his riflemen taking position within the shadows of its dark embrace but he could hear their muted gallows humour carried on the crisp sea breeze. Their orders were nothing less than a death sentence. The ramshackle tower had once served as a coastal fort and makeshift lighthouse but now it had become little more than a tomb!
Upon the left flank his spearmen and handgunners had abandoned the warmth of the camp fires, now little more than dying embers, to take position beside the reassuring presence of the volley gun. The engineers were grizzled veterans of countless campaigns but today they seemed skittish, the warmachine had sunk into the boggy ground overnight and the barrels of blackpowder had become damp in the cursed salt air.
The right flank was held by knights adorned in armour of burnished bronze, Vanderkamp amongst them, struggling to calm their mounts that floundered in the tidal silt of the saltmarsh. The horses were unnerved, their nostrils flaring as if they had caught scent of something lurking in the receding mists behind them.
And then the ratmen come…
Like a sea storm the skaven crashed against the tower, undaunted by the pitiful volley fire of the garrison within. Driven by a relentless hunger and fear of their brutal masters the murderous horde tore down the rotting defences and swarmed into the stairwell of the tower. There was little hope against such feral savagery yet the brave defenders fought to the last.
Across the battlefield things were little better. Foul gutter runners had infiltrated the Marienburg lines with unnerving speed, running amok, sewing confusion and disorder as terrified officers wrestled vainly to control the deteriorating situation. Desperate to reclaim the initiative Vanderkamp led his knights in a vainglorious charge against the skaven doomwheel, smashing the warmachine beneath hoof and steel. But it was a hollow victory. Foul sorcery had withered the Marienburg force and there was now nothing to support Vanderkamp’s advance. His army had been slaughtered and his reputation was in tatters. Saltmarsh Tower was in the hands of the ratmen and Vanderkamp could do nothing to prevent their relentless advance!
Upon the left flank his spearmen and handgunners had abandoned the warmth of the camp fires, now little more than dying embers, to take position beside the reassuring presence of the volley gun. The engineers were grizzled veterans of countless campaigns but today they seemed skittish, the warmachine had sunk into the boggy ground overnight and the barrels of blackpowder had become damp in the cursed salt air.
The right flank was held by knights adorned in armour of burnished bronze, Vanderkamp amongst them, struggling to calm their mounts that floundered in the tidal silt of the saltmarsh. The horses were unnerved, their nostrils flaring as if they had caught scent of something lurking in the receding mists behind them.
And then the ratmen come…
Like a sea storm the skaven crashed against the tower, undaunted by the pitiful volley fire of the garrison within. Driven by a relentless hunger and fear of their brutal masters the murderous horde tore down the rotting defences and swarmed into the stairwell of the tower. There was little hope against such feral savagery yet the brave defenders fought to the last.
Across the battlefield things were little better. Foul gutter runners had infiltrated the Marienburg lines with unnerving speed, running amok, sewing confusion and disorder as terrified officers wrestled vainly to control the deteriorating situation. Desperate to reclaim the initiative Vanderkamp led his knights in a vainglorious charge against the skaven doomwheel, smashing the warmachine beneath hoof and steel. But it was a hollow victory. Foul sorcery had withered the Marienburg force and there was now nothing to support Vanderkamp’s advance. His army had been slaughtered and his reputation was in tatters. Saltmarsh Tower was in the hands of the ratmen and Vanderkamp could do nothing to prevent their relentless advance!
