Alanosus Wachtmann sipped some drink
from his cup and then grimaced.
Wine he
thought bitterly, that was all he could get in the border princes. Or
well there was beer but after trying what the border princes passed
of as beer once Alonsus had decided to stick to drinking the wine. He
took another sip and grimaced again. He looked about him in the tent,
a field bed stood beside the table and fold chair in which he sat. a
few feet beyond that stood a chest containing most of his
possessions. He hadn't bothered unpacking anything but the bottle.
How long had it been since he had bothered with that? Weeks he
decided. He sighed. Once he had been an imperial commander, once of
the best sworn to emperor Karl Frantz of the empire of Sigmar. He had
been the commander of the northern border. But as the years passed
the raids and attacks over the border had waned and he had been
recalled to Altdorf.
The
emperor had decided to remove Alonus and most of his forces from the
border, stating that the empire should use its respite from chaos
attacks to solidify its situation at home.
He was
to join the reiksmarshal in an invasion of the eastern provinces of
Brettonia. The emperor had reasoned that due to recent troubles in
Musillion to the south Brettonia would be unable to retaliate.
Claiming enough of Brettonia would mean that the wastelands and
Marienburg would be surrounded on all sides by the empire and would
subsequently fall as well. In one swoop they would have increased
imperial holding by one fifth, and be one step closer to having a
unified front to show when non humans or northerners once again
became a threat.
Alonsus
had to agree it was a good plan but he had been stationed on the
northern border since before the emperor was born and he knew full
well that when chaos does something unexpected it is never good. He
had tried to convince the emperor to leave his forces there and to
send forces north to investigate what chaos was really up to.
The
emperor had refused him, and commanded him to bring his forces back
to Altdorf. Alonsus had in turn refused his emperor. The emperor had
pointed out to do so was treason and then given him one night to
consider his actions before being called before the emperor at court.
In
front of the whole court the emperor had ordered Alonus to return his
forces to Altdorf, and before the whole court he had refused. To his
shock several of his officers joined him in refusing the emperor.
For
this Alonsus were sent into exile, the reichsmarshal Kurt Helborg had
pointed out that it was only Alonsus' long and loyal service that had
saved him from hanging. The officers who supported Alonsus were given
a simple choice, join their commander in exile or an early
retirement. A simple choice, joining Alonus would mean leaving the
empire and their families behind forever and most chose to retire.
But a surprising number chose to follow their commander, mostly old
veterans with grown children or even grandchildren. They had decided
that rather than be a taxation on their families or sit around and
watch the crops grow they would rather go on one last adventure with
their commander.
And
now they were here, many days march into the badlands, tracking a
band of raiders who had stolen a valuable artifact from a powerful
lord in the border princes. Last night they had made camp a few miles
east of the ruins of karak Ekrund. Now it was close to noon, they had
not yet broken camp before them stood the option of giving up or
following the orcs past the marshes of madness into the deserts of
Nehekhara. Not an inviting prospect, though there was stories of the
riches that could be found there, there were also darker stories of
the dead of the land rising up to defend it. Alonsus knew that there
was some truth to this as he had once seen an attack by the ghost
ships of Nehekhara upon a small hamlet in Norland. The attack had
already been underway when his soldiers had reaches the besieged
town, the undead had just fought on even as they were beset by
Alonsus' forces but then many hours later without a warning they had
simply left. The fallen undead has just turned to dust and drifted
away on the breeze no sign of them ever having been there except the
death and damage they had caused.
What
use did he really have for gold anyway, he had never been a man with
interest in riches. Then a again why was he so keen on protecting
this life he had so thoroughly run into the ground. Maybe his men
were right better to go out in a blaze of glory. One last charge into
the face of the unnatural and evil, not for the riches but for
mankind and for Sigmar.
He
heard steps outside of the tent then a man lifted up the fold and
stepped inside.
“Commander”
he greeted. The man was about the same age as Alonsus, his name was
Hans Echter and he had served under Alonsus as long as he could
remember. He was one who had said that he didn't want to sit around
and watch the crops grow while elsewhere other fought and died for
Sigmar.
“Captain”
Alonsus responded setting his cup aside and waiting.
“Commander...there
is something you need to see”
