Warhammer Fantasy:Steel and gunpowder

I'm posting tomorrow's chapter early because I don't know if I'll be able to upload it myself.

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NachexenPfugzeit-15-24,2489 IC

I kept cursing myself for having accepted the favor instead of paying bribes, as even that would have been cheaper. The cost of having three thousand hired men was one thing, but another entirely was having them march off somewhere else, as that meant I would need to have supply carts. The cost of maintaining my men—which was around five hundred crowns a day—could easily double or triple depending on the food prices in the area, if my logistics line failed.

Regardless, I called all my men from their posts and left five of the Carroburg greatswords as the respective captains of the militia, as they were the only ones with the temperament to deal with the witch hunters if they felt they could do whatever they wanted while the local lord was away.

Once all my men were gathered and all the armor and uniforms that could be collected in the area were gathered, we standardized them as much as possible. My troops looked as orderly as possible, wearing dark blue uniforms, which stood out much more at the joints of their armor or on their trousers.

So, as the day was still young, our march to Helmgart began. It seemed like all the training for endurance paid off, as we were at least able to maintain good mobilization on the roads, and it looked like the order was kept as we moved quickly.

We crossed the river and continued without problems, and as we passed through the village of Holthusen, many of the local children began trying to imitate us, marching beside us with straight sticks as if they were mimicking my men's posture while they carried pikes along the road.

Everything seemed peaceful until we reached Ussingen. The village was clearly damaged. Many buildings were burned.

Spurring my horse, I approached the village, and upon seeing me, the peasants ran off.

I entered the village without resistance when some guards came out of the buildings. Upon seeing my armor, they relaxed.

"Blessings of Sigmar. What happened here?" I said, performing the comet salute.

"Blessings of Sigmar, noble. A Bretonnian patrol managed to cross the Grey Mountains and attacked us," said one of the guards, who seemed relieved not to have to fight against someone armed like a knight.

"The Bretonnians crossed?" I said, surprised.

"Yes, noble lord. They burned some buildings and looted the barns before returning the way they came," said the guard.

"Thank you for the information, guard… I won't bother you further. Continue with the reconstruction… may Sigmar protect you," I said, turning back to my forces.

So, Bretonnians, huh? I think it's been two years since the border war between the margrave and the duke ended, but it looks like the Bretonnians are back for a second fight.

We continued on the road, picking up the pace a little to avoid having to camp and so we could continue the march the next day. When we reached Eilhart, the sight was the same: all the vineyards that characterized the village had been burned, and many peasants were trying to rebuild their homes, which were somewhat scorched.

When we reached Ussingen, it was a bit different. There were burned houses, but much less. It was clear the place had been defended properly by the presence of the state regiments, so the Bretonnians hadn't been able to do much.

When it was getting dark and it seemed the sun was about to disappear, we arrived at the Imperial camp, where the flags of the Princes of Altdorf, the Elector Count of Reikland, and the Empire flew, alongside many noble houses displaying their coats of arms.

It didn't take long for my men to stow their combat gear and start preparing the tents, adding to the growing Imperial army that was gathering outside Helmgart, reaching several thousand, especially with the addition of my troops.

I asked around for the general, but all his men told me he was sleeping and that I should ask for him tomorrow. So, that's what I did. I made sure my men's food was distributed and that everything was ready, since who knows how long we'd be camping while the rest of the nobles with military obligations to the Emperor arrived.

The next day, when the sun was rising, I entered again into the sea of tents with different coats of arms and finally met with the general, who was arguing with other nobles.

The general looked at me, surprised.

"Well... Albrecht... that was quick... I expected you at least... four more days," said the general, clearly surprised.

"I arrived last night, but you were sleeping," I replied, taking an empty chair and sitting down in front of the general. The other nobles stared at me.

"Even more surprising... How many men did you bring? That's what matters most here," said the general, pointing to his assistant, who had paper and pen in hand.

"Three thousand men... general," I replied, observing the faces of the nobles, who looked at me, surprised.

"Three thousand men... quite a number... I think I made a good bet on you, baron. When this campaign is over, I'll make sure your participation wasn't in vain," said the general, beginning to smile.

"Well then... who are we marching against? Because your messenger couldn't tell me why we were marching," I said, crossing my arms.

"Bretonnia... The margrave and the duke have continued their fights. Apparently, another conflict broke out when the Bretonnians allowed some greenskins to attack an Imperial caravan, and the margrave responded by attacking Bretonnian caravans. This escalated. More and more skirmishes happened until the margrave burned some of the duke's villages, and the duke did the same with the margrave's villages. So we have to finish this," said the general.

"Oh, I see. So... we burn some Bretonnian villages and return to Helmgart?" I asked again.

"No... we will take Monfort. And then we'll return and clean the mountains, looking for the Greenskin clan that's been attacking Imperial caravans," said the general.

"You want to take Monfort?" I said, surprised. "But that means we'll be facing the Bretonnian ducal armies."

"What's the matter? Are you a coward who fears the Bretonnians?" one of the nobles said.

I stared at him and stood up, drawing my sword. I heard the general's guards do the same.

"Do you want to settle this outside?" I said to the noble, who had his eyes wide open, staring at my runic sword.

He just shook his head and didn't say anything more.

"Coward," I said, sheathing my sword. Everything calmed down again.

"A runic sword, huh?" the general said, laughing quietly. "Bretonnia is weak right now. They just suffered a huge defeat at the hands of the greenskins. There's talk of thousands of Bretonnian knights dead, and who knows how many of their men-at-arms and peasants. Of a great Bretonnian army, only a handful of men returned… or so our spies say. So, the Empire is in a good position to punish the Bretonnians for their insolence. If we manage to take Monfort and turn it into an Imperial outpost, it will open a new era of Imperial advances within Bretonnia. And who knows… maybe a new great noble could rise in those enemy lands," the general said, smiling.

"I see... when do we leave?" I asked the general.

"We're waiting for some mercenary companies I sent to hire from Nuln, and some militia regiments from nobles who owe me favors. So, we should have about sixteen thousand men before we march into Bretonnia and show those horse-loving, starving peasants why Imperial steel and black powder are superior," the general said.

"I understand... then, if you'll excuse me, I have things to prepare," I said, standing up.

"Of course, I'll have you called if I need anything from you, Albrecht. By the way, how many firearms are your men bringing? I'll supply the powder so it won't hit your finances too hard," the general said, with a friendly tone.

"About a thousand. But I have my own powder supplies, general. I would appreciate it more if you could help with feeding my men, if possible," I responded to the general's generous offer.

"Of course, I'll make sure some of the supplies being delivered by the locals are sent to your men, baron... thanks for coming. You may leave," said the general, pointing to the exit.

I left the tent and stretched a little. Everything seemed to indicate that this was going to take a while, as we had to wait for other forces to arrive. So, for a couple of days, I took the opportunity to have my men train, practicing all sorts of complicated maneuvers, especially when we were in confined spaces and attacked from all directions.

We trained turns of ninety... one hundred and eighty degrees, to be ready to resist Bretonnian cavalry attacks, which would be the most dangerous thing we could face. Since only... Sigmar knows what will happen in Bretonnia... we'll probably face a bunch of knights, huge mobs of peasants, and plenty of Grail Knights, who should arrive in large numbers, especially since when their sanction is in danger, they have mass visions of their Lady.

So, it wouldn't surprise me if we face a lot of resistance in Bretonnian territory. That's why training is never too much. In fact, I was making everyone train as if it were normal. And I, too, because I couldn't afford to lose too many men. I had little to recruit from, as they were all migrants, and it was already clear to me that hiring foreigners was unpopular among the Reiklanders.

A few days passed and more nobles arrived, bringing their knights and personal troops, while many mercenary companies from Nuln arrived in small groups, joining us.

Even, to our surprise, a group of ogres arrived, wearing armor and holding what appeared to be blunderbusses.

Apparently, the general hadn't spared any expense and had brought expensive ogre mercenaries, who must charge a lot considering their potential skills and size.

In the camp, while I observed the largest army I had ever seen... such a gathering of men meant that sooner or later we'd be bombarded with artillery like a rain of drones... so seeing so many men in one place made me a little nervous because of the memories.

But it didn't take long for me to recognize a coat of arms I was very familiar with... the coat of arms of the Margraves of Helmgart, who had recently joined the camp.

I noticed a group of knights from the margrave's house talking to someone wearing armor and a bit shorter than them, and I recognized him immediately.

The knights stopped and stared at me as I approached, but the one I was getting closer to didn't.

"Well, if it isn't my good friend Joachim," I said, putting my arm around his neck, noticing that I was much bigger than the firstborn son of the margrave.

"Hey, who do you think... gasp... Albrecht... by Sigmar, you're huge!" he said, breathless.

"What's with the reaction, you damn fool? Shouldn't it be, 'But if it isn't my good friend Albrecht who saved my life'?" I said, tightening my arm around him.

"Albrecht... my father is here... you should leave, you don't know how he gets when someone mentions your name," said Joachim, becoming agitated.

"And you think I'm afraid of your father?" I said, grinning.

"Well... he's been really angry lately about what's been happening to his vassals' villages," said Joachim.

"That's obvious, who wouldn't be angry when their vassals' villages are burned down? Come on, tell me... are you ready to spill Bretonnian blood like I did two years ago, huh?" I said to Joachim.

"I'm not allowed to participate, but I must be present until our men leave," Joachim said.

"Really? I thought I'd have to save your life from some Bretonnian peasant," I said with a grin.

"One thing is a beastman, and another very different one is a starving Bretonnian," Joachim said, removing my arm from his neck.

"Well then, my friend, how's life?" I said with a smile.

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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.

Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.

I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.

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