View Full Version : The Battle for Rabensdorf

Hrokka `Eadsplitter
29-06-2011, 11:53
So, here I am, back again, to torment my fellow warseerites with my writing:D
Made up this history for my so far only beginning Empire army, to narrate their fights against the greenskins(Well, some time at least..)
Would appreciate any and all c&c, hopefully someone will appreciate the story:)

The Battle for Rabensdorf

Chapter I
ULFHARDT VON STIEGLITZ looked angrily out through the window.
“Does it never stop raining in this godforsaken hole?” he asked. His comrade, who sat next to him, sighed.
“You’ve complained about that in three days, Ulf. And the answer is quite obviously ‘no’, right?” The mercenary captain nodded and stroked his blond beard with his left hand.
“We’ll never catch that green bastard if this weather continues. And we can’t afford to let that money slip out of our grip.” Ulfhardt sighed. “It’s hopeless, Karl. We don’t stand a chance against him without our gunpowder, and it doesn’t stand a chance in this weather.” The mercenary next to him nodded silently and carved some scratches into the table they were sitting at. The inn they we’re sitting in were full with people, in a corner sat some of the mercenaries that Ulfhardt commanded, at the table next to them sat a fat merchant and his guard, who cautiously stared at the mercenaries in the inn. Behind the inn’s serving disc stood a bald man with a dirty apron, who filled beer in tankards and exchanged them for coin to some of the local villagers. In the midst of the tables sat a small group of dwarfs, clad in wandering rangers’ cloaks, drinking the ale and grumpy comparing it to the brew in the mountains.
And in the darkest corner, where no lamp was lit, two weathered old men with long gray beards sat and smoked pipe. One had a red kite shield at his feet, the other one of the biggest crossbow’s Ulfhardt had ever seen. Both talked low, obvious talking of past campaigns since sentences like “That was indeed a massacre”, “Remember Ol’ Schwarz’s battalion?” and “I hit him right between the eyes” sometimes reached Ulfhardt’s ears.
It was in this remote corner of the Drakwald forest that the infamous orc warlord Rokk-Knokka were mending his wounds after his defeat at Wolfburg’s Ford, and Ulfhardt had been hired to hunt him down. And in this weather, he wouldn’t stand a chance. He would have to sit out the weather in this small, dimwit town.
Sure it looked nice with its typically Middenland-looking timbered houses, with half a dozen streets running across the settlement, but it wasn’t the stoneclad streets of Altdorf, and it didn’t harbor any of the places Ulfhardt frequently visited. No cardhouses, no brothels and no fighting pits. The biggest attraction, right in the middle of town where the two-storied inn, The Red Halberd. What an idiotic name. According to the innkeeper, his grandfather slew a beastman warlord with a halberd, which had been colored red by the beast’s blood, still hanging over the hearth of the inn. And what sane man would charge a beastman with a halberd?
Ulfhardt kept sweeping with his gaze over the inn, spotting one of his men grabbing the servingmaid’s wrist and in drunken stupor trying to kiss her. He arose and grabbed his gloves.
“I’m starting to dislike your cousin, Karl. He can’t keep his hands to himself.”
With those words Ulfhardt strode over to the servingmaid, that desperately was trying get loose from the man’s grip. With one, swift punch he hit the soldiers stomach, forcing his air through his lungs. With his other hand he straightened the soldiers head by grabbing his hair. While the drunk soldier took the beating, the servingmaid hurried away, searching cover behind the bartender.
“Look at me, you rat” Ulfhardt said and forced the drunk to meet his gaze. “Good. Keep your hands to yourself, Kurt. Otherwise we’ll cut ‘em off. Savvy?” The soldier nodded in panic and fell backwards into his chair when Ulfhardt let go of his hair. Without any further words Ulfhardt returned to his table, knowing that the two old men in the corner followed his every move. He sat down and tried to enjoy the watery beer he’d been served with. He sighed heavily.
“This just isn’t me, Karl. No women, no strong liquor and no gambling. Remind me why we’re here?”
The redhaired mercenary stopped fingering his knife and closed his eyes.
“Because of the reward on twenty-thousand reiks-marks for a greenskins head.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s the reason.”

More to follow!

Hrokka `Eadsplitter
29-06-2011, 12:15
Some more Rabensdorf!


The muddy street was illuminated by torches that spat and hissed in the wet weather. Just outside the torches reach the town was walled off with sturdy logs driven deep into the ground and sharpened at the top. Along the wall leapt a walkway about three feet under the tips of the logs.
As he studied the wall he spotted a guard, clad in odd armorplates and a crudely stitched together leather coat, having an aged blunderbuss slung over his back.
The militia guard nodded as a greeting, and then turned his eyes out against the black forest outside the walls.
Karl sighed. He hated to admit it, but he was as tired of Rabensdorf as Ulf.
The dim-witted Middenlanders had only two guards at the walls, both carrying aged blackpowder weapons that were about as likely to blow up in your hands or do nothing, as actually kill your enemy.
Sigmar had not needed blackpowder after all, he thought, and patted his trusty warhammer. Mankind had done well without it.
As he stopped walking, he heard the loud whinny of a terrified horse from outside the walls.
The captain of pike pulled his warhammer out of his belt and whistled to the guard on the wall, who cautiously stared out in the night.
“Did you hear that?” he called.
“Aye,” the guard called back. He quickly changed his grip on the blunderbuss and took aim outwards.
“Can you see anything?”
“Not a damned thing. Put out that torch!” he shouted and pointed at the one below his position.
Karl kicked it down without doubt, and eagerly awaited any answer from above.
“It’s a horse running around the forest edge. It’s carrying somethin… Wait, that’s body!” The guard lifted his gun and fired in the air, releasing a loud bang.
The horse whinnied again, closer this time.
Barks from the town’s dogs were heard, and the trample of feet. More militias came running, some in leather coats, others in studded jackets and a few in nothing but their shirts – but all of them carried a weapon.
“What are ye firing about, Rolf?”
“There’s a horse running around outside, with somebody on it, someone wounded. Get yer thumbs out and fetch it!”
All of the militias started staring at their feet, nobody willing to go outside the palisade.
“I’ll do it,” Karl said and climbed up the ladder next to Rolf. He grabbed the palisade tips and then hurled himself over.
“Open the gate for me, will you?”
Rolf nodded and disappeared from Karl’s visual.
Karl landed heavily, with his warhammer ready and his dagger unsheathed. The horse, which in the darkness almost glowed since it was white, stood still and looked at him, eyes panicking.
“Easy, boy. Come here now, and you’ll get some oat once we’re inside.”
On its back sat a small figure, with several shafts sticking out of its hunchbacked back. The rider panted heavily as hell, and the saddlecloth was drenched in blood.
“Orcs…” the rider hissed, then fell off at the side of the horse. Karl caught the rider in the last second, just before she fell to the ground. The cowl fell backwards, revealing a shimmering, long braid of fair hair. A beautiful face, smothered only by a stroke of red blood. Karl slung her over his shoulder and gripped the horse’s reins.
He started to jog alongside the palisade, towards the lit up group of torch-carrying militias that came to meet him.
Rolf ran at its front, now armed with a lumberjacks axe, cautiously staring out in the dark.
“Get movin’, we better be within the wall before something smells blood.”
“Aye,” was heard from the militias, all clutching their weapons desperately.
“Someone take her horse then,” Karl said, “And get hold of someone to dig out these arrows.”

And that's the first chapter done:)

11-07-2011, 10:12
So this is your army mate? If so, I don't suppose you'll post pics?

Anyway, good as always, can't wait to see what happens next. Keep it up mate. :) Funny that we both went to the Empire for our next pieces of writing hey? :P

11-07-2011, 14:26
Please separate the paragraphs, it's very hard to read. A few more descriptions would be nice from what I've read so far, lots of talking mainly.

Though please separate the paragraphs, it's quite unbearable to read a wall of none stop text.

Hrokka `Eadsplitter
18-07-2011, 11:19
So this is your army mate? If so, I don't suppose you'll post pics?

Anyway, good as always, can't wait to see what happens next. Keep it up mate. :) Funny that we both went to the Empire for our next pieces of writing hey? :P

Cheers mate:)
It's indeed my army, now being around 1000pts of worth.

And for the both of us writing about Empire...
Who can resist those puffy arms and feathered caps;)

Please separate the paragraphs, it's very hard to read. A few more descriptions would be nice from what I've read so far, lots of talking mainly.

Though please separate the paragraphs, it's quite unbearable to read a wall of none stop text.

When I posted another story to a competition, they told me that I exaggerated descriptions and had mainly "Conan"-dialouge. Seems I did it over the other way around this time.
Will get better though.

I will probably get something written and posted within 2 weeks.
The local carnival celebrates 100 years anniversery, feast for a week:D