Chapter 9
The march itself into Yorksburg lands was uneventful, no large opposing forces were spotted moving to intercept them, only the occasional skirmisher hoping to slow them down at all. Most likely, the larger armies of Yorksburg were busy fighting the armies sent by Jack to the south and north, both larger than that of General Elbertson’s and one headed personally by the Skipper of Londonsburg himself.
The Skipper of Yorksburg likely considered them to be a much greater threat, and after their losses against the Baron and other competent commanders had greatly lowered the amount of manpower Yorksburg was working with.
The General Elbertson’s army was making good progress and facing very light resistance. Their current objective was a castle erected along the main road into Yorksburg proper. It would be a nuisance if it was not dealt with before marching deeper into Yorksburg territory.
This battle was decided before it even began. Castle Blenham was going to fall, it was simply a matter of time. The Londonsburg army, led by General Elbertson, was around 6,000 strong, while the garrison was only around 800. Of course, while the Baron was able to hold off a 6,000 strong army with just 800 men, this garrison had no explosives, no ballistae, and most importantly, no firearms.
Even though the duelist General Elbertson sent was beaten, the garrison did not cheer. They knew they were going to die, and they were going to face it with quiet Orcish resolve, dying for their state, and their god. Though others were silent not because of stoic resolve, but because of the fear of dying. As the Londonsburg Orcs surrounded the castle, a contingent of humans pushed a cart towards the gate, protected from arrow fire by Orcish allies with massive round shields.
The cart itself was covered with a tarp, but the defenders knew it was nothing good. They fired arrows at the men pushing the cart, who were holding shields above their heads with one hand and pushing with the other. Most arrows were deflected or stuck in the shields, but a few found gaps in defense and stuck into chests, necks, legs and arms.
Even as men fell the cart never slowed. After being just a few yards from the door, the men let the cart roll on its own, scrambling away as quickly as they could, silently praying that their charms and talismans protected them, the last line of defense should their armor fail them.
After a few moments, the cart made contact with the door. A deafening BOOM resounded through the valley around the castle. A huge plume of smoke erupted from the door, filling the sky with light stones and acrid smoke. The CRUNCH of stone impacting with frightening force could be heard through the smoke, as could the screams of Orcs caught in the blast or buried in rubble.
General Elbertson jumped up from his wooden folding chair and waved his sword in the air, screaming a deep, guttural warcry at the top of his lungs.
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! YEEAH BRUV! LEET’S FACKIN’ GOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
The army descended on the castle. The defenders barely lasted an hour, either being killed or surrendering as soon as the enemy clambered their way inside the castle. It was highly unusual for Orcs to surrender or rout en masse, but in a situation like this, even the fanatical devotion all Orcs share for their gods was not enough to completely overcome the fear caused by such a large explosion followed by an all out assault, at least for the less experienced and battle-hardened Orcs in the garrison.
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Castle Blenham was in the hands of Londonsburg, though mostly useless until they could repair the gatehouse. Additionally, the army of General Elbertson now had a few hundred Yorksburg prisoners of war.
The Baron was in the command tent, surrounded by Orc lieutenants, commanders, and General Elbertson. The General was informing his men of their current course of action. The Baron watched the procession of captives leaving the castle under armed guard from the open tent flap. He turned towards his allied commanders and pointed back towards the POWs with his thumb.
“What are we going to do with 500 prisoners?”
General Elbertson turned to the Baron and gave him an untroubled smile.
“Wez is gonna let ‘em go! Wez ain’t got da resources to ‘old ‘em, an’ we can’t just kill ‘em all. Wez is gonna let ‘em ‘ead back to Yorksburg an’ deir farms ‘n whatnot.”
The Baron narrowed his eyes.
“But, won’t that just allow them to rejoin the Yorksburg defenders? Won’t they just become a thorn in our side again.”
One of Elberton’s commanders spoke up, smiling brightly.
“Yeah? Makes da fightin’ more fun if dere’s more ‘o ‘em!”
The rest of the tent cheered in agreement. The Baron chuckled and shook his head slightly, forcing a small, unconcerned smile.
“Still, I feel this is unwise.”
General Elbertson shrugged.
“'Uman wisdom don’t factor in da equation! Dis is Orc business, I don’t fink you’d get it.”
The Baron sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Right, well, I suppose that’s true. You lot do genuinely think differently than we do…whatever, it simply gives my men more chances to prove themselves.”
General Elbertson laughed and walked over to slap the Baron’s back.
“Great! Dats da roight way to fink o’ it!”
He continued laughing for a moment, being joined by the rest of the tent, before calming down, taking a deep breath, and putting on a far more serious expression.
“Now, Baron, boyz, I’z is splittin’ da army.”
There was a general murmur throughout the Orcs gathered there.
“Whyz dat?”
“Well, dere’s dis little wooden fort nearby Yorksburg, small ‘nough to not even be named but it’s got ‘round 500 gitz inside. I’m gonna ‘ave Jenkins lead da men to Yorksburg n’ wait for da rest o’ Jack’s boyz to get dere, me included. I is gonna lead us to da fort ‘n raze it to da ground! Any objections?”
The Orcs all shook their heads. The Baron reluctantly shook his as well.
“Roight den! Baron, ‘arry, Dave, Bof Williams, an’ Greg is comin’ wif me. Rest o’ da boyz is goin’ to Yorksburg!”
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General Elbertson’s half of the army numbered 2,500 men. About three miles from the fort, one of his Scout boyz ran over to him to give a report.
“General! Dere’s an’ army dere! Looks like 2,000!”
General Elbertson spit out his drink.
“Wot!? 2,000 gitz?”
The Scout boy nodded his head emphatically.
“Yeah! Done saw it wif me own eyes!”
Elbertson shook his head.
“Well, ‘ows da terrain dere?”
“Flat! Very slight ‘ills, not big ‘nough to be considered! An’ last I saw, dey was on our side! Wez gotta get trough dem to reach da fort!”
The General grinned widely and dismounted his horse.
“Sounds great! Someone get me chair n’ warboard! I gonna do some real general shit! Oh, dis gonna be good!”
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The Yorksburg army was formed up just in front of the fort.
They were in a very simple formation, spear and shield infantry stretched out in a line four men deep, their Orcish longbowmen in a block on either side and the middle, and their famous Yorksburg cavalry and skirmishers on the wings.
The Londonsburg army formed up opposite to them. Their melee infantry was in two large rectangles five men deep on either side of the Baron’s formation, which consisted of a pike square, a small number of swordsmen behind the pikes, and a block of musketmen three men deep in the front. Behind the rectangles were blocks of Orcish longbowmen, and on the wings were Londonsburg cavalry and skirmishers.
After an uneventful pre battle duel, which Londonsburg won, Londonsburg began to move forward. As soon as they entered effective range, a couple hundred yards, the muskets began to fire, shredding through the approaching Orcs. The Baron’s formation stopped and waited for the enemy Orcs to reach him, allowing his musketmen to fire repeatedly at their attackers.
General Elbertson moved his pieces forward, having both sides' infantry pieces touch each other, and leaving the cavalry pieces where they were. A runner came over to him.
“General! Baron’s stopped! Da offa gitz ‘ave stopped too!”
“Wot!? Get ‘em movin’!”
“Well, ‘es shootin’ the Yorksburg gitz roight proppa’! Maybe it’s some Empire fing?”
General Elbertson slammed his fist against his knee.
“Well, I don’t care! Get ‘im movin’! If ‘e wants to do somefin’ fancy ‘es gotta tell me!”
“Roight!”
The runner ran off to relay his orders. Just as he left another came running in, panting and desperately trying to reattach his looking glass to his belt.
“General! Cavalry on da left flank ‘as engaged wif deir cav! Seems to be mounted knights and skirmishers on bofe soids!”
“Monitor dem gitz ‘n tell me wot ‘appens.”
The Scout boy saluted.
“Roight!”
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“He wants me to move forward? But I’m softening them up first! The other allies seem to be following my lead.”
The Scout boy stomped his feet.
"Youz ain’t da general! Do as da general says!"
The Baron wanted to argue, but after taking a second to reconsider, he realized he could be jeopardizing the overall strategy General Elbertson had planned. He took a deep breath before saluting the Scout boy.
“Right. I'm not the general here. One more volley men! Then formation march and muskets take cover and affix bayonets!”
The musketmen shot off one more volley and ran within the pike formation, affixing bayonets and waiting for the enemy to get within range of their long, spear-like muskets.
After that they began to walk forward, their Orcish allies following suit, moving in lockstep with the Baron’s forces. It seemed to the Baron that they were following after him, most likely because of him and his company’s legendary reputation.
As they nearly got within range, Klarwasser’s pikes leveled at the Orcs. Instead of a charge, General Elbertson had decided that they were going to walk slowly to preserve their energy. Their army didn’t have many good charging units, so he had decided that that course of action was unwise. That was fine with the Baron, as his pikemen were also not very good for charging.
The blocks inched closer and closer to their enemy, until eventually, pikes began to thrust. They had longer range than the spearmen, so if they wanted to attack the pikes they would have to move forwards out of position. A few seconds later, their Orcish allies made contact with the enemy, and the battle proper had begun.
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The left flank was doing well against the legendary Yorksburg cavalry. While not as strong or experienced, their training, and especially their armor, helped them keep up with their enemy. Horsemen were knocked off their horses by lances, and skirmishers quickly dismounted and leaped to pin and finish off those mounted knights.
A Londonsburg skirmisher dived for a knight’s arm but soon after felt something rip through his body as an enemy fired an arrow through his exposed flank. The mounted skirmishers, just as the cavalry, were attempting to drive their opponents from the field so they could operate unmolested.
As they began to hear the sounds of melee to their right, the Yorksburg skirmishers were in a rough state. Yorksburg hadn’t invested in skirmishers to the same extent that Londonsburg had, who had many of them trained directly by veterans and Helmut of the Klarwasser Mercenary Company. They were accurate with their shots, extremely nimble, numerous, and, most importantly, many were equipped with firearms.
The Yorksburg skirmishers had been swiftly driven from the field, finding that their smaller cavalry bows were no match for the sheer power of musket carbines. And the ones who bore the brunt of their allies' failure the most were the Yorksburg heavy cavalry.
Those who were knocked off their horse were swiftly pinned, and long, thin daggers were swiftly drawn and stuck into gaps in plate. Bullets, while not piercing the enchanted plate of the Yorksburg cavalry, unsteadied them, or drove the wind out of their lungs. Even though the armor could easily stop the bullets from piercing, it could not stop the kinetic transfer.
The legendary Yorksburg cavalry were being driven from the field by the Londonsburg heavy cavalry, though they had extracted heavy losses before they were forced to retreat. A Londonsburg knight slumped in his saddle, slowly bleeding out from a blow which found a gap in his armor. Others struggled to pull injured comrades onto their horses for treatment by the Baron’s healing mage.
In contrast, despite retreating from the fight, the Yorksburg cavalry were still intact, relatively speaking. Their skirmishers had failed them, and it was their job to finish off enemy knights who had been forcefully dismounted. The Londonsburg skirmishers, with the assistance of Helmut and veterans, had won the left flank.
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“Excellent. Tell da cav to look for a good target if dey’re not too mauled, an’ tell da skirmishas ta stay back n’ wait for ordas.”
The runner saluted and left. About a minute later, another came.
“Sir! Da roight flank ain’t gonna hold much longa! Our skirmishers ain’t last, and our cav ain’t lookin’ too good.”
General Elbertson clicked his tongue.
“Send ‘alf da reserves to the roight flank. Tell ‘em to do it fast. ‘N tell da skirmishers ta go ‘arass deir commander n’ runnas.”
The scout saluted and ran off. General Elbertson moved the pieces on his board and sighed nervously. It was still a fairly even battle, despite his early gains.
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Pikes bounced off shield, helmet, and brigandine. Spear tips deflected off cuirass and knocked off helmets. Men and Orc fell, being dragged out of their formations and swiftly replaced by allies. A Yorksburg Orc managed to injure three Klarwasser humans in just thirty seconds. He opened his mouth to laugh, but nothing came as a bullet ripped through his throat. The Baron holstered his pistol and drew another, keeping an eye out for any enemies who looked like they were doing a little too well.
The Baron sent his gaze across the battlefield, taking in the entirety of it in just a few seconds. He was pleased with the infantry and left flank, but he began to bite his thumbnail as his eyes fell on the right. The Yorksburg heavy cavalry was tearing through the comparatively less armored Londonsburg knights, and allowing any unit of the famous Yorksburg cavalry to run amok could result in devastating losses.
The Baron looked at Ludwin and found him doing the same thing, staring at the right flank nervously.
“Keep the men together and in high spirits, I’m going to support the right!”
Ludwin nodded and the Baron kicked his horse into action. He charged towards them, covering the ground in just a dozen seconds, and thrust his saber up into the armpit of a Yorksburg knight, jerking it around to cause as much damage as possible before his sword was ripped out by his horse riding past.
He raised his saber and parried a lance with the flat of his blade, sliding down the shaft and colliding with the mail covering the neck of a Yorksburg knight, causing sparks to fly as enchanted metal clashed with enchanted metal. The Baron clicked his tongue as parried another thrust; his attack was deflected by the knight’s chainmail coif.
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General Elbertson moved his pieces around nervously. The right flank was going worse than he had hoped, even with the addition of skirmishers and the Baron himself. He pointed at a Scout boy left in reserve and shouted.
“Tell da Baron to get back to ‘is men. The roight is ‘opeless, da reserves ain’t movin’ fast ‘nough ta intercept. The Baron’s to go back an’ da reserves’re ta just try an’ krump ‘em.”
As the Scout boy ran off, General Elbertson rubbed the back of his head and carefully considered the board in front of him. Despite the likely collapse of the right flank, he felt fairly optimistic about this battle. A single unit of cavalry, no matter how powerful, couldn’t swing the results of a battle fought by thousands.
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The Yorksburg cavalry had driven their opponent from their field, and very swiftly found a target; the Londonsburg reserve infantry, who were currently moving and separated from the rest of the army. They charged, their massive, armored war horses pushing themselves as hard as they could, sending chunks of dirt flying as they ran towards their enemy.
The reserves, a group of around eighty Orcs with spear and shield, desperately attempted to get in proper formation and brace before they were crushed under the weight of the charging knights. Unfortunately, they were too slow, and their spears too short and weak.
The impact of horses in heavy armor carrying Orcs in heavy armor sent Orcish spearmen flying through the air, and enchanted lances pierced through mundane Orcish brigandine with ease. Mundane Orcish spears were easily blocked and deflected by Yorksburg’s holy plate. In less than a minute, twenty Orcs were dead and the rest were retreating.
A knight ran down one of the retreating Orcs, laughing raucously as his lance pierced clean through the Orc’s helmet and head, coming out of his mouth. Suddenly, the knight felt an impending sense of doom aimed at his back. He turned his head just in time to see the arm sized spike of earth slam into his back, piercing his enchanted plate and sending him flying out of his saddle, breaking the stirrups as his body was ripped from his horse.
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The Baron’s mixed race pike formation was proving to be extremely effective. Any attack, any attempt to capitalize on weakness, was swiftly shut down by a thrust from below, above, and directly in front. Any weakness the enemy showed was found and capitalized on, as the three tiered perspective meant that there were multiple men working multiple angles.
Slowly, the enemy’s center was being pushed back, while the sides were staying roughly in place. Soon enough, the sides of the Klarwasser formation were in line with the enemy. Bayonets lashed out from within the pikemen, opening up new angles of attack and creating a pathway for one of the Baron’s stronger assets; his gifted ones and their acolytes.
Fergus, fully in the throes of the berzerker state, exploded into the spear formation, hatchet and knife gliding through enemies like a dolphin glides through water. Udo rushed forward, holding his weapon in a half-sword position, and thrust around an Orcish shield. Spears, best used when the enemy was at a distance, suddenly became a liability when men with short swords disrupted their formation. The newly formed shock troops of the Klarwasser Mercenary Company were seeing their first use in combat.
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An Orc wearing plate was kneeling on the ground, fully strangling a Gob skirmisher. The Londonsburg cavalry had run past the engagement to attack the reserves and the commander. The Londonsburg skirmishers had found their way to the enemy commander’s tent, and they were driven back after surprising and killing a handful of Yorksburg Scout boys.
The Londonsburg heavy cavalry inflicted some losses, but the long spears of the Yorksburg reserves would eventually drive them off.
The Gob thrashed and struggled to escape the massive paws of the Yorksburg general, General Smith. With one last burst of strength the Gob’s neck audibly snapped, and his body stopped moving entirely. General Smith lifted him by the neck and chucked him out of his tent like trash. He looked to the sky and roared with all his might. Had York abandoned them?
A runner came into his tent and saluted weakly. He was covered in sweat, and his breathing was hard and ragged.
“Sir! Center ain’t lookin’ too good! Da boyz ain’t lookin’ so hot no dey ain’t! Elbertson’s got some Swordboyz layin’ inta us!”
General Smith roared at the sky again, kicking his table over and scattering the board and pieces he used to track the battle across the ground. He took a deep breath to compose himself, then unhooked the horn dangling from his belt.
“York ain’t feelin’ us today, da fort is lost. Wez is gonna ‘ave to lick our wounds, an’ beat ‘em back from Yorksburg.”
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The sound of three short notes blown into a horn echoed through the battlefield. The Yorksburg infantry slowly began to walk backwards in sync, nearly abandoning attack in its entirety and focusing solely on protecting themselves and their brothers. After half a minute of the Yorksburg Orcs trying to disengage, another horn could be heard, one long note, this time from the direction of the Londonsburg camp.
The Londonsburg soldiers and allies stopped their attack and allowed the enemy to retreat, as was the Orcish response to winning a battle. The gods demanded that Orcs act magnanimous in victory, and honorable in defeat. Any Orc general who ordered his men to run down a routing army would be stripped of his position and banished from his homeland, at least in theory, if not always in practice. Though luckily for the Yorksburg army, General Elbertson was a very devout Orc.
The battle was over. Any Orcs who retreated were allowed to leave unharmed. The army as a whole had very few losses, and the Baron only lost 68 men outright, as everyone else who was injured was able to be healed by geidpfeld, though of course some of them would be unfit for battle regardless for some period of time.
The Fort was burned down. It was small and insignificant, but General Elbertson wanted it gone. Since the whole thing was made of wood, it went up easily. The Orcs were loving it, but the Baron and his men were much less interested. Burning things was fun, but they weren’t the ones burning the fort, so they didn’t care.
All they wanted now was to siege Yorksburg, mostly because it meant that their assignment was over and they could go home. The humans were sick and tired of Orcland. It was far too cold for their liking. Almost every day someone got frostbite and had to be healed by Geidpfeld, who was largely the only reason no one had frozen to death yet.
However, luckily for them, Now there was nothing that could stand up to them between this unnamed fort and Yorksburg city. All they had to do was march.
