Chapter 37
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What's the general background of the harem-member Erik obtains during the 1st Raid (Couronne)
  • A peasant girl, about to be taken in by a pig of a Nobleman and desperate for any alternative Votes: 3 5.4%
  • An oh-so Noble Lady, spoiled since birth and in desperate need of a little setback (Slaanesh style) Votes: 11 19.6%
  • A Damsel (Brettonia wizard) faithful to 'The Lady' and relentless in her hatred of Chaos Votes: 24 42.9%
  • A Damsel betrayed in and by her faith, ambitious and looking for a way to get her 'revenge' Votes: 18 32.1%
  • No, don't need a Brettonian harem-member (unlikely, but some people prefer less harem-members) Votes: 0 0.0%
  • Other: please comment below what alternative you would like to see Votes: 0 0.0%
Total voters: 56 · This poll was closed on Apr 30, 2021 06:35 PM.

Erik led the band of Sarls back to his camp, dragging the Manticore corpse with them.

‘I would never have thought to run into the legendary Wulfrik the Wanderer! And he’s still young too!’

Erik was very excited about meeting a well-known character from the Warhammer universe. In the lore, Wulfrik the Wanderer was also known as the Eternal Challenger and the World Walker.

He participated in an important war between Norscan tribes but during the victory feast he boasted too much and earned the ire of the Dark Gods who subsequently cursed him with their Gifts.

After many tribulations and challenges trying to undo the curse so he could marry his betrothed, Wulfrik in the end decided to accept the Gifts and saw them as blessings instead. Ever since, he wandered the four corners of the world in search of powerful foes to slay and offer up in sacrifice to his Dark Patrons.

To be able to meet Wulfrik well before the events he was known for in lore, Erik was understandably very happy.

When they returned to camp, Wulfrik voiced his admiration for the preparedness of Erik’s Hunters.

“A good position, strong defences, disciplined warriors and a mountain of trophies to prove your power. Impressive!”

“Thank you, Wulfrik. You haven’t told me about the danger yet, but I assume my fortress will be of service?”

Drawing his brows together in a deep frown, Wulfrik thoughtfully nodded.

“Yes, with this degree of fortification and positioning on the hill, we’ll definitely have an advantage.”

“Good. Then let’s store away the Manticore and gather the Captains. Then we can discuss this coming danger and how we will deal with it.”

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When all Captains had returned a couple of hours later, Erik began the meeting by introducing the new arrivals.

“This here is Wulfrik of the Sarl. We came across him while Hunting a Manticore and he brings grave news. Wulfrik, please stand and speak.”

Nodding at Erik’s introduction, Wulfrik stood up and began telling the chain of events.

“We of the Sarl were, just like you, on our Winter Hunt. There were well over a thousand of us but poor leadership cost us needless lives as the idiot other Chiefs pursued nothing but their personal glory in spite of the Winter Hunt’s goals.

One day, when I was out, they found tracks of a large number of vile Beastmen and most of the Chiefs took their men to go and fight them.

Days later only 20 of the 700 returned, bringing news of their annihilation. It had been a trap set by the Beastmen and they were overrun by many times their number. Allegedly they had taken many Beastmen with them as they died, but in the end they still fell.

Then the first blizzard hit, isolating us from the outside. And after it passed, we only had a couple of days to gather provisions and improve our shoddy camp before the Beastmen Warherd besieged us.

We held them off until the day before yesterday, drastically thinning their host. We had a little more than 300 Marauders ready to fight and we faced thousands of Beastmen.

My best estimate is around 3.000 consisting of a mix of different Beastmen. The short-horned ones were the most numerous while the stronger ones with larger, curled horns still numbered in their hundreds. They even brought numerous hulking Minotaurs, upright walking bulls that are one size larger than trolls.

Without the advantage of an ambush and having to assault our palisade the filth paid heavy losses before they managed to break through on multiple points.

I was fighting at the western breach against a large Beastman wearing thick, red painted armour when I was struck unconscious. I only awoke half a day later when these 30 survivors carried me out of the massacre being committed in the camp.

We headed westward until we ran into your Manticore and now we are here. There is no doubt in my mind that the Beastmen are already aware of your presence here and that they will attack soon. When the time comes, I wish to fight alongside you so I may cleanse myself of the dishonour of defeat.”

Erik’s Captains were quiet. Even the surrounding Marauders were silent. The importance of survival had been ingrained into them by Erik, so the prospect of facing such a vast host of enemies dulled their usual excitement at the prospect of battle.

Taking it all in, Erik spoke once more:

“How many do you think will come for us?”

“Considering the heavy price they paid, I’d say we thinned them out by about a third.”

“That means that the 400 of us plus the 30 Sarls will defend a stronger position against only 2.000 weakling Beastmen!”

An important part of leadership was keeping up troop morale so Erik purposely stressed the numbers to tell his men that they were facing less enemies with more warriors and a stronger position than what Wulfrik had had available.

If the morale was too low, their effectiveness in battle would suffer. And if they didn’t fight to the best of their ability, all of them might very well die.

Running away was not an option, they would most likely be caught in the open by the fast-moving Beastmen. Nor was returning home early an option, since the punishment for that was to be stripped naked and banished from the tribe.

The only option they had was to prepare and kill every last one of the wretched monsters coming to their door.

Erik then continued with harsh words to fire up his Marauders.

“200 Sarls courageously fought off thousands of them! Are we, Frost Wolves, lesser men than they are?”

NO!” – Came the thunderous reply.

“Will we quake in our boots and pray like cowards that the hoofed mongrels might spare us or pass us by?!”

NO!” – They thundered once more as they started beating their fists on their chests.

“Will you then prepare to the best of your ability to defend ourselves and our spoils?”

YES!” – The Marauders responded as their morale soared high into the sky.

“Then will you follow ME to bring pain, death and DESTRUCTION upon our foes?! To bring honour to ourselves and to offer our enemies’ cold bodies to our Patrons in worship and sacrifice?!

YES!”

Finally, Erik concluded his call to arms with one simple shout and before the first word fully left his mouth every Marauder, both Frost Wolf and Sarl, shouted with him:

Bl-OOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!!!

And the day after, the second blizzard arrived. Postponing the battle, but unable to douse the flames of war and desire for battle ignited within the impatiently waiting warriors.

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