Chapter 52
INTERLUDE. Elspeth von Draken.
Tamurkhan's horde advanced upon the city in three columns that made no attempt to unify. On the contrary, they splintered into an ever-increasing number of separate warbands. The Chaos-worshippers attacked in a disorganized fashion, swarming forward like a plague of insects. Their lack of drill and formation was, for the moment, compensated by their raw lust for slaughter. Each servant of the Ruinous Powers strove to reach the Imperial lines as quickly as possible.
— Paltry puppets, — Elspeth thought with a touch of detached scorn as she observed the enemy's advance.
The Magess knew that Chaos lured many into its foul embrace with the promise of a false freedom.
Reject dogma and tradition — heretical prophets urged. — Set yourselves free. Yet those who set foot upon the path of serving the Dark Powers invariably ended up in the ranks of such mobs, mindlessly rushing toward their own destruction. They were cannon fodder, their only purpose to die so that yet another heretical champion might ascend. Even the leaders of such hordes could not be called free; they languished in the shackles of their own madness, from which they would find no respite even after death. The corruption was rooted too deeply within their fallen souls.
— Death shall bring you no peace, — Elspeth thought, sending a mental command to her Carmine Dragon to spread its wings. — But I must end your lives nonetheless.
The dragon dived, nearly brushing the waters of the Reik, and streaking past a River Watch raft, it soared to a height of thirty meters. Elspeth von Draken endured such high-speed maneuvers with ease. Her body, saturated with the wind of Shyish, felt practically none of the discomfort inherent to mortals, and little could shake the detached tranquility of the sorceress's mind.
Even the ghastly sight of the Chaos horde surging forward did not particularly impress von Draken, though the Great Enemy had brought a colossal force before Nuln today.
Here were nearly all the varieties of northern filth known to Elspeth. Norscan warriors ranging from marauders in stinking furs to armored Chosen, mammoths bearing unholy altars upon their backs, armored giants, scarce but dangerous Toad Dragons, shifting Chaos Spawn, mutant Trolls, and Ogres tainted by Chaos. A full cabinet of grotesque curiosities.
Of course, this variety was seasoned with the cannon fodder of Beastmen, cultists, harpies, and furies.
A truly rare sight was the Chaos Dwarfs. Elspeth knew of the existence of this dark race but had practically never encountered its representatives until today. Their steel serpent crawled across the lands of the Empire, belching black smoke. It was a procession of sorcerous machines in which damned souls shrieked in unbearable agony. Elspeth felt the echoes of their great pain. This sensation was far more unpleasant for the sorceress than all the stench of the Nurgleites.
Von Draken felt a sharp, uncharacteristic urge to immediately head for the right flank of the enemy army to eradicate the evil of the Dawi-Zharr. However, Elspeth restrained herself. With her second sight, she saw the winds of magic raging around the Dawi-Zharr column. The Chaos Dwarfs possessed several extremely powerful sorcerers; moreover, their enchanted engines could reach von Draken even on dragonback. And the degenerates had their own flying beasts as well.
Discipline, magic, monsters, machines. Among all of Tamurkhan's horde, it was the Dawi-Zharr who presented the greatest danger. They could only be crushed by a well-coordinated assault. The commanders of Nuln's army had already devised such a plan and relayed it to all key officers. Elspeth knew of it as well. For now, she was required to wait while simultaneously eliminating the enemy's winged monstrosities. And the flying monsters of Chaos were already hurtling toward the Imperial fortifications.
Hundreds of harpies, even more furies, some fifteen manticores, and as many Daemonic Plague Toads—a serious threat, but this time the forces of Order had something to answer with.
Beneath the dragon's wings, Elspeth heard the crackle of musket fire. Blue-gray smoke began to billow over the Imperial redoubts. It wasn't just firearms that were put to use. Thousands of arrows and bolts sped toward the flying monsters. Rockets prepared by the Gunnery School soared upward. They detonated high above the ground like fireworks, yet instead of a colorful display, they released clouds of metal shot. The rockets were launched to explode far from the fortifications, avoiding friendly fire.
The Empire's firepower proved itself an order of magnitude better here than at Pfeildorf.
The greenish bodies of furies were torn to pieces, immediately beginning to dissolve as they reverted into warp energy. Harpies twitched from hits, their shrill cries of pain managing to reach Elspeth's ears even through the cannonade.
Only the luckiest or the largest of the Chaos monsters survived the barrage. However, a second volley did not follow. The aerial forces of the Empire rushed to meet the remnants of the enemy's winged filth. Among them was Elspeth herself.
Nobles on Griffons directed their beasts toward the larger monsters. Out of the corner of her eye, Elspeth saw Baron von Krause fighting a wounded manticore. Several College mages astride Pegasi sent bolts of lightning and flashes of flame into the Daemonic Rot-flies. One such creature immediately lost a wing and plummeted downward.
Elspeth directed her dragon to intercept a small swarm of surviving furies. A cold flash of amethyst flame enveloped the daemons. The dragon bathed them in its deadly breath, turning them to ash.
The Imperial warriors of the sky had nearly finished routing the enemy's aerial forces, but Chaos still had something in reserve.
Two dragons, three heads, four maws. Mighty beasts rushed to meet them. A two-headed Frost Dragon from the Chaos Wastes and a Champion of Nurgle riding a mutated Chaos Dragon with an additional maw upon its chest. These monsters could cause a great deal of trouble.
The Champion of Nurgle pointed his putrid sword, wreathed in a greenish glow, toward von Draken. It was a challenge to combat, and Elspeth accepted it, guiding her Carmine Dragon toward the foe.
They were to clash in aerial combat right before the eyes of the converging armies.
With every beat of the dragons' wings, the distance between the rivals closed. Von Draken felt the mood of the Nurgle champion shift from initial excitement to a mocking self-assurance. Elspeth's appearance clearly did not impress him. He likely expected to see an armored warrior, not a fragile woman whose only weapon was a scythe. And yet, the enemy thirsted for her head. Among dragon riders, there are no people of weak will. Thus, the Nurgleite saw her as a prize to be laid upon the altar of the Plague God.
Elspeth mentally ordered her dragon to slow down. The Nurgleite beast tried to climb higher, and von Draken understood the maneuver perfectly. He wanted to catch her in his breath.
Soon, both maws of the Chaos Dragon swung open, spewing streams of foul fire, brown steam, and sprays of acid. Surely hundreds, if not thousands, of unfortunates had already perished from this monster's breath, but Elspeth did not intend to share their fate.
In response, the sorceress's Carmine Dragon exhaled a shimmering storm of amethyst flame. The two ruinous elements clashed. Nurgle's rot and the pure withering of the wind of death struggled in the skies above the Empire.
The collision of dragon breaths obscured the Chaos champion's vision, whereas Elspeth navigated the space perfectly using her second sight. The sorceress guided her winged beast to the side to avoid a melee.
When the clouds of fire and steam dissipated, the Nurgle champion flew forward, having lost sight of Elspeth. Bloodless wounds were visible on his dragon's hide. The breath of Shyish had managed to partially overcome the foul flames.
The Nurgleite began to turn the mutant dragon, head swiveling, but he had already missed his chance.
— Wither, fade, — Elspeth von Draken commanded, raising her hand to the heavens and concentrating the magic of Shyish. — Let death cleanse the world of your presence.
Streams of dark energy reached toward the Nurgleite, taking the form of a skeletal hand of purple-black power. As soon as the spell touched him, the Chaos champion thrashed in his saddle. He behaved like an animal attacked by wild wasps. Elspeth smirked slightly. She felt pure Shyish exterminating the unnatural life in the champion's body with every passing second. Countless parasites died. Tiny, infectious creatures that lived in legions within the Nurgleite's gut withered away. Did the Plague God not patronize the cycle of life? A perverted rebirth and reincarnation. Elspeth intended to interrupt this disgusting mockery of nature. She brought a cleansing death to such things.
The Nurgleite led his dragon into a new attack. The warrior of the Ruinous Powers tried to reach the sorceress, swinging his sword. Surprisingly, he even succeeded. His dragon, sensing its rider's suffering, made several desperate flaps of its wings. Tearing its own muscles, it managed to close the distance. For a moment, the two beasts brushed backs. The Chaos champion swung his sword and...
A shroud woven of the finest threads of purple magic appeared around the sorceress, absorbing the blow. Elspeth did not try to hack the opponent with her scythe in return, but merely touched his desecrated armor with her palm. Von Draken used the spell known as the Caress of Laniph. The enemy's armor did not help him escape the effects of death magic.
The dragons flew apart again. The Nurgle champion was fading before her eyes. Of course, even Elspeth's magic could not kill him quickly. This disgusting warrior had earned many gifts from Chaos. He was a diligent puppet of his gods, but Elspeth knew how to cut his strings.
The Carmine Dragon arched in the air, directing a concentrated stream of amethyst breath toward the enemy beast. The breath of Shyish tore the mutant's hide and left cracks in the champion's armor.
— Ash and dust!
Obeying Elspeth's will, the winds of magic turned into a stifling gray cloud with purple flecks. It swallowed both the Nurgle champion and his dragon. Neither armor nor scales protected them from the dark energy. They tried to break free, but the cloud shifted to follow their struggles. The enemies' strength was fading, and Elspeth felt it. Her Carmine Dragon pursued the blinded Chaos-worshippers. It climbed higher, preparing the final attack.
Five seconds, six, ten, and...
When the stifling cloud dissipated, the Carmine Dragon, positioned above, bathed the enemies in a stream of amethyst flame. The Shyish-infused fire did not burn in the conventional sense, but it caused the unholy flesh to smolder and turn to ash.
— Die then.
Elspeth reached out to the enemy with a spectral hand again, finally stopping the champion's rotten heart. The rider and his horrific dragon plummeted. With a barely perceptible gesture, von Draken created a magical shield, deflecting a fireball launched at her by one of the Chaos sorcerers.
Having finished with one enemy dragon, Elspeth began to scan for the second. However, the two-headed beast was already being handled by a pair of Amber Order mages. The shamans, having transformed into a Griffon and a Great Eagle, were tearing at the mutant dragon, attacking it from different sides. The Chaos monster had already lost part of its right wing. Soon they would finish the beast.
Elspeth did not intervene in their fight. She directed the Carmine Dragon back toward the Imperial redoubts to finish off the last of the Rot-flies. Von Draken watched with pleasure as the remaining manticores and furies perished. Though the hardest part was still ahead, the first round of this struggle belonged to the forces of Order. The sky here belonged to the Empire of Sigmar.
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— Holy shit, this thing actually moved! — That thought occurred to me every few minutes while on the deck of the landship.
Liandra, Magg, Erik, and I had taken our places on the port side of one of the four formidable Imperial wunderwaffes that the engineers had managed to set in motion. Two other landships remained at the starting position.
We were jolted less than I expected. It seemed Nuln shipbuilders had actually endowed their creation with something like a suspension. Who the hell knows. Maybe Sigmar's personal will was protecting us from the shaking. I wouldn't be surprised. It would logically explain how this contraption didn't fall apart after the first hundred meters.
I stood at the railing, clad in nearly full armor. A burgonet helm, a good cuirass, gauntlets, greaves, and even a codpiece. If I covered my arms better and put a visor on my mug, I'd be a proper knight.
For weapons, I had a sword, two Witch Hunter pistols on a bandolier, and a round shield reinforced with a thin layer of metal. The Nuln Ironsides had issued it to me. It was heavy and awkward, but in the center, it could stop a pistol bullet at point-blank range or a musket ball at a distance. Toward the edges, the metal was thinner to keep the weight down.
I figured that under the buff from the Blood Chalice, I'd be able to wield such a shield properly. Plus, I had the enchanted Dawi-Zharr dagger with me. I wasn't going to fight with it; I was going to use it to empower myself.
Liandra relied on near-full armor and a hand-and-a-half sword. Magg was itching to use his double-barreled falconet. Erik, in addition to his two pistols, had been given a long musket for temporary use by the Ironsides.
As we rolled out from behind the hills that had concealed our ships, I noticed massive bonfires lit upon their peaks. It wasn't just common wood burning there; some special compound was smoldering, releasing clouds of thick smoke. A wizard stationed there was using wind currents to direct it all toward the battlefield. Damn. A smoke screen for our cover.
Of course, you couldn't completely mask the approach of landships. They were just too massive. But maybe we could win at least ten seconds.
I noted with pleasure that the enemy, unlike last time, was not using a veil of sorcerous mist. We had killed the Fimir head-sorcerer, and the rest seemed to have retreated to their bogs.
By the time we rolled out from behind the hills, the Imperial artillery was already thundering. There was plenty of smoke even without a special screen.
— Dragons! — someone on deck shouted, and we raised our heads.
The aerial battle was already nearly over with our victory. We saw the very same dragon that had once tried to kill us at Pfeildorf falling from the sky. Another winged Chaos monster was also on its last legs, being mauled by a Griffon and an Eagle. It seemed the pair of pensioners who had been lecturing Hel recently were having their fun. I definitely liked the start of this battle.
As it moved, the landship creaked and groaned, hinting that with every fiber of its machine spirit, it wished to fall to pieces, or perhaps just blow the fuck up.
— Hold on, frie... — Erik began, but then we were all jolted and the halfling bit his tongue.
Cans and rockets whistled over us, leaving smoky trails. That was our side at work. From the enemy side, the return fire from the Chaos Dwarfs was already coming in. I winced when I noticed the fire-streaks of Hellcannon shells against the sky. I really didn't want to catch another hit of that filth with my own hide.
However, there are two mages on our ship. They could use protective spells or intercept a projectile with a blast of their own. Hel is still just learning, of course, but Gerard is already a very experienced Magister.
I squinted my eyes against the smoke, barely stifling a cough. About three hundred meters away, a mounted procession of Imperials was moving past us. Mostly Pistoliers and other mounted skirmishers. There were several hundred of them.
And ahead of us...
Through the smoke, I caught the outlines of some sort of fortress near which flames were flashing.
Wait... A fortress?! But there shouldn't be one there. When the smoke cleared slightly, I realized what my eyes were seeing. A Dawi-Zharr armored train. We were driving straight toward it.
In the briefing before the battle, the Chaos Dwarfs were designated as one of the possible targets for the landship assault.
To be honest, I was hoping they'd throw us against the Norscans. Fighting mammoths on a ship's deck would have been fun. But no. We'll have to catch Dawi-Zharr bullets and cannonballs with our hulls. Ships without water against a train without rails. The battle of the century in the category of "Fuck Physics, Suck it Material Science."