Warhammer Fantasy:Steel and gunpowder

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Sigmarzeit-15-27,2489 IC

I'm a damn thorn in the side of the Bretonnians. A sharp thorn, deeply embedded, cutting every time they take a step. While we wait for the Emperor's response — who is still in his palace surrounded by useless courtiers — we've moved to an aggressive stance. We no longer stay still. The Bretonnians are gathering their armies in scattered camps across their land, and we're making sure to harass them every time they show their faces.

Four days ago, we clashed with the forces of Bastonne. We found a hidden pass that led to the plains and managed to cross the river undetected. It was a clean victory. Not as perfect as the previous one — where we had the terrain and surprise on our side — but enough to fill another field with Bretonnian corpses.

One of their Grail knights, a fool in shiny armor, died when one of our ogres smashed him with a cannon to the shoulder. He was knocked off his mount, and before he could recover, the ogre lit the fuse and blew him to pieces. The funniest thing was that the same cannon had been carried by the ogre all march, without even breaking a sweat. Apparently, the Duke of Bastonne wasn't present, busy with an orc campaign in the mountains. His army was leaderless, and we took care of the rest.

The ogres… blessed be them. Having them on our side is a damn blessing. I'd rather not imagine what it would be like to fight against them. I don't think their necks are as easy to snap as those of the Bretonnian soldiers. With them, you just need to tighten the steel around their necks, and they stop breathing. But with the ogres... I don't even know if they have necks. Just folds of fat and muscle. Maybe if I manage to turn their belly plates into spears, I could stab them there.

After Bastonne, we seized enormous amounts of supplies. Weapons, banners, food, even a couple of barrels of wine that my men fought over. Today, we won another significant victory: we crushed the Duke of Gisoreux. Another Grail knight, gravely wounded by musket fire, managed to escape with his life. His men dragged him by the arms, pulling him out of the battlefield just as I was making my way through the infantry to reach him.

I was so close... but I couldn't leave my men exposed. We had a horde of fanatics with spears and arrows on us, and I had to focus on disabling their weapons and stopping the projectiles. I couldn't afford to choke the knights who saved the duke. Another valuable hostage slipping through my fingers. I've lost count.

But the best news we've received in the last few weeks… is that King Phillippe V is dead. Finally. Old age caught up with him, although I would've liked to help him out. The new king is named Faramond, or something like that. A noble from the south, probably from Quenelles or Brionne. And with him comes the chaos of succession, the grudges between duchies, and all the crap that comes with it. I'd bet the attack will come from the south… or maybe from the north… or both. They no longer have the bridge with Bastonne — I took care of that — and they only have the pass we discovered after days of scouting the area. Two entry routes. Nothing more. And I control both.

So far, we've crushed the forces of three dukes with fewer than a thousand of our own casualties. Our team is intact, our stores full, and Monfort's treasure could withstand a siege for months. Even with food being distributed among the population, we'd endure without a problem. And if I decided to let them starve and only feed my men... we could last for years.

When we marched east towards Gisoreux, I took the opportunity to occupy all the smaller fortifications that still answered to the old Duke of Monfort. Castles with fewer than a hundred men, but which complicated our territorial control. We emptied them one by one, collecting everything useful. We found huge amounts of gold ore extracted from the local mines. For obvious reasons, it wasn't sent to Monfort. So it wouldn't fall into our hands. What irony. Now all that gold will be melted in our workshops, turned into ingots, and stored in our vaults. And of course, it's a generous payment to us... for our occupation.

But for now, we had to keep waiting.

"Then tell me, Folcard… I've always been curious to know this." I took a piece of meat into my mouth, chewing slowly. "How does it feel knowing that your entire duchy is under imperial control… and that your gold mines and merchants are generously funding our occupation?"

The Duke of Monfort lifted his gaze as best as he could. One eye was shut from the swelling, the other half open. He had trouble breathing. He could hardly speak, with all his teeth rearranged by punches after our duel. But he still replied:

"The Lady will not remain idle while you, cowards, profane one of Bretonnia's ancestral duchies… This will not go unpunished."

"Oh, really?" I placed my knife on the plate and pointed to it with the tip of my fork, not losing my smile. "And when will that happen? The army of Monfort is already part of the mud. Your castles are empty, your knights are dead, and you… here sitting, like a beaten dog."

I cut another piece and dropped it onto the bread. "Your king is dead. And the new one, if he has the guts to sit on the throne, must be too busy with seals and crowns to come save you. That is, if his legs don't shake when he sees what we've done to you."

I took the bite into my mouth while watching him in silence.

"But Folcard… if it comforts you, your people are still good for something. The gold from your mines is filling our warehouses, and your peasants work with much more enthusiasm now that they don't have to share their bread with your knights."

"I swear... when the conditions change... and it's me who has you in this same position… you will pay for this." The Duke of Monfort spat the words with rage as he tried to catch his breath. "I swear by the Lady."

"Oh? Really?" I slowly turned my head toward a corner of the room where his wife and children were sitting, under guard. "Because that kind of reckless attitude tends to bring... unpleasant consequences. Very bad things. Very bad things, Folcard."

His breath became more ragged. His eyes fixed on me... then on them. He lowered his gaze, and with a still trembling hand, he tried to close his fingers around the knife on the table. A dry grunt broke the air.

"Don't you dare," said my bodyguard, a veteran with a scar running across his face. "I'll break your face again,."

The Duke froze. The tension in his jaw was evident.

"Besides..." I leaned toward him, speaking in a low voice, almost as if sharing a secret. "I think you've wanted to kill me for quite some time now. Two years, perhaps?"

Folcard furrowed his brow, confused. "I don't even know you. You're just an upstart imperial noble who got lucky," he replied, still trying to maintain some dignity.

"Luck?" I laughed, shaking my head. "Two years ago, I killed a Grail Knight with a dwarf arquebus."

That was enough for his one good eye to open wide. The color drained from his face.

"Ah... so you do remember, don't you, Duke?" I said with a smile.

"But… but… you were just a kid," said the Duke, surprised.

"Ah, family genetics," I replied with a big grin. "When you're born with good blood, amazing things can happen in no time."

I straightened up, left the cutlery on the plate, and moved a little closer, enjoying every second. "You don't have to be naive, Folcard. You challenged me to a duel and lost… against someone who hasn't even been named a knight yet."

I let out a loud, mocking laugh as I watched him grit his teeth in impotent fury.

"One of the representatives of the sacred Bretonnian cavalry, beaten and humiliated by a young man without a knight's title. Pathetic." I said, walking around him.

The Duke swallowed hard. His pride was shattered.

"I dare say your beloved wife saved you from the truth. Maybe she thought it was better not to destroy your dignity completely."

I sat back down, crossing my legs calmly. "But for a parasite like you… there isn't much time left. And it's better that you die knowing all your mistakes... or live with them. Humiliation is a much more lasting punishment than death, after all. Don't you think?" I said, showing him the knife.

I laughed again. This time quietly, with the smile still on my face.

The doors of the tower opened slowly, letting in one of the riders I had sent to Altdorf days ago.

"Speaking of fate… seems like the answer to what will happen to you is here," I said, turning to receive the letter.

"My lord Baron, I apologize for the delay, but the imperial court moved slower than I anticipated for something so important. The Grand Theogonist has reviewed the evidence provided by the collaborator and has decided to advise the Emperor to send an army to control Monfort and reinforce the watch over the presence of Chaos and vampirism in Bretonnia. As we speak, another imperial general is assembling an army, calling all nearby nobles to provide the respective men to form the state regiments. Reinforcements should arrive soon," said the messenger.

I turned toward the Duke. "Well, looks like your luck has run out. You're not going to live much longer."

With that big news, I stood up from my chair and began preparing everything for the change of command. I doubted I could continue controlling the army with the arrival of a force composed of powerful nobles. Everything had gone well, the former general's bet had worked wonders… except for the tiny detail that he died.

Now, a multitude of powerful nobles from all regions of the Empire would come to contest the control of Monfort. Clearly, I am out of that game. I still lack the influence and power to fight the big players of the Empire.

But I'm taking with me more than half a million crowns in gold, and who knows how many more I can take before the reinforcements arrive.

I immediately ordered the Duke's treasury to be emptied, and I also had all his servants called. Although I've earned a reputation for being generous among them, I doubt they'll voluntarily want to follow me to imperial lands. But bringing a large group of Bretons to populate one of my mining villages could be very useful, considering the experience many have in gold extraction for the Duke.

In the following days, while everyone prepared, I organized the abundant supplies I had for the servants' journey to my lands. Above all, I made sure to have enough reserves for when they arrived, starting to completely plunder Monfort, removing everything of value… even the peasants.

I left behind ghost towns, moving large amounts of peasants to a temporary camp, from where I would later take them to my territories.

I only left the sacred artifacts for the Cult of the Lady. If anyone wanted to steal them, it would no longer be my problem.

And so, I simply waited for the arrival of the imperial army.

Although when it arrived, it brought with it even worse news: I was to present myself before the Emperor's court immediately… and I began to break out in a cold sweat at the thought of going to a place where there was a great chance they would discover who I really was.

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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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