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[Ghazkull]

We write the year 2523 since the founding of the Empire. It are Dark Times andbcold winds blow from the North. Rumours of the Northern Hordes are spreading and Greenskin activity is rising. In these troubled times the Konklave of Light, a conglomerate of Imperials, Bretonians, Dwarves and Highelfs stands as a beacon of light against the impending darkness.

 The imperial Army has left for the Chaotic Horde months ago but more soldiers are needed. Count Otto von Meissen, vassal of electoral Countess Emanuelle has left the March months ago with the 1.,2. and 3.Meissner and left the reign to his son Albrecht. Two weeks ago a messenger brought not only the message of Victory against Archaon but also the complete eradication of the 1. Meissner. the scattered Chaos Hordes are still troubling the lands and Otto orders his son to raise another regiment...


On the Hills before the City, the 4th Meissner was camping. It was a warm sunny evening and the various soldiers were pestered by flies and gnats. The army was a conglomerate of all Albrecht could assemble in one month. Several hundred freshly drafted recruits, supported by Mercenaries,Fanatic Flaggellants and even some Ogres and a group of Slayers. Not to forget a few Priest of Shallya and some Halfling-cooks who were fulfilling the Nutritional and Medical needs. It was all in all the best one could draw from at these times at a place as Meissen.

[Ghazkull]

Albrecht watched disgruntled the Regiment on the fields below him. He had the stature of a bull and ,to be true, the face of one. Although in the early twenties his face was pale,swollen and pockmarked from fat food and too much binge drinking. His hazelnut eyes had a uneasy glare which currentlyy stared with discontent on the 4.th Meissen.

Pitiful! With this ramshackle group i shall meet the old man? Tell me again Elmar, why are we doing this again?

his voice had an arrogant and sadistic tune on it. Next to him a wiry,athletic man left the tent. Although in the forties the Truchsess of Albrecht von Wettin looked far healthier and athletic then his twenty years younger fosterling.

As i already told you my liege, your father is a feverent follower of the Kaiser and if you want to keep your heritage you should begin to gain his favour.

the young Graf didn't reply to this but stared more intently down into the encampment below him.

How much longer then? shouldn't we be on the move already?

we still have to wait for the detachment of the Church tomorrow. They will bless the regiment,then we can move...

____________________________

---The next Morning---

The droning of horns heralded the departure of the regiment.

Ever so slowly the troops rallied in a long marching column. First the slayers, followed by the drafted Recruits and behind the the Ogre group. With the baggage travelled the Lord,his personal bodyguards and most of the mercenaries. An behind them the chittering horde of flagellants, fanatics and the Sigmar Priests...

Nobody of these barely seven hundred souls knew what would await them and that they would soon wish back to that lovely hill at Meissen...

[Criptfeind]

Blacken hand tore the last chunk of meat from the leg of lamb with his teeth, and after chewing it for several seconds swallowed it down his maw. Dropping the leg bone down into the dirt the rubbed his greasy hands down the front of his already greasy chest, serving only to dirty it further. Burping contently with his breakfast now shoved down his throat, the Ogre picked himself off the ground and started walking towards the quickly forming ranks of the 4th Meissen. Today was the day they would finally start the march towards glory or death, the prospect of fighting was quite pleasing to the simple mind of the Ogre, although it had been present the last several days, since he had been found and recruited for the regiment, free food (although never enough) and Broken Toof had not been nearly as fidgety. Still, nothing was quite like crushing and eating a real foe, and even a lazy Ogre could get bored of all the waiting around.

He had heard the rumors floating around camp as well, they said the 4th Meissen would mostly be crushing small forces of Chaos. Blacken Hand had mixed feeling about that. On one hand he knew he would surely be able to find a true foe in the mixed armies of mutants and daemons that the northerners normally spewed fourth. On the other hand, they did not taste nearly as well as the humans of the south lands. But, on a third hand Blacken Hand knew the soft stomachs around him would not be able to eat the left overs for the fear of something pathetic like 'death' happening to them. So all the more for him.

[Taricus]

Boris and the other cooks had to work double time due to the regiment's size and composition. Supplies were running a bit short for some things. The basics never ran out though. With the shift finished, Boris hung up his spare robe, The one he used to keep his clothes from getting dirty from the cooking, near his detachment's tent and proceeded to grab a spear from the quartermaster. The shorties always got the nasty jobs...

[Dwarmin]

Isadora paused to swat a mosquito probing her arm. For some reason, the sight of her blood was sort of calming...the wind and the warm sun.

She didn't want her life to end, not here. But then again, you didn't really get to make choices like that-they were made for you. 4th Meissen would be up for battle soon, and she would relish leading the charge. Isadoras only real hope is that someone would take the flag from her before she died. The proud, tattered and bloody flag of the Empire, long may it wave...

After all, that was how she had gotten it in the first place, from another banner bearer...poor boy, he kept asking for his mother. There was no time to comfort him. She took the flag and held it up and...here she was. Her heart was beating faster than usual. This was odd.

[elitetaco3519]

 Hapsus marched, thinking about the young face boys that were to die. What a waste of meat. He knew that this mission would bring him closer to glory; or to death. He has a very strange feeling about the lot of this mess, like he would never see the world again. But this thought was quickly banished, for the world did not love him. Then his thoughts gaze to another. He saw the other Ogre, just a blood thirsty male to deal with, but the truth was he was not at all like his Ogre brothers, in fact its been nay 10 years since he saw his last Ogre or ate one.

[Ahra]

Albrecht watched as the sons of sigmar marched to their death, and he was proud of it.

[Dwarmin]

Isadora got a whiff of Ogre and nearly choked. What a brute!

She didn't like them, but then again, she didn't have to. They would faithfully fight and die in the service of the Empire, if only to get their pick of food after the battle. More than she could say of SOME people.

She remembered how the militia had scattered like rabbits in that last battle, as soon as arrows began landing among them, leaving their supporting units to be overrun...cowards. She would at least die facing the enemy, instead of being ran down from behind.

[Sneevil]

Stein glanced while marching he could clearly see the ogres behind his collum.Yesterday was the first time he saw an ogre 

quite big and  simple minded  but their voracious appetite was quite stunning  the one  he saw was eating an amount of meat that could feed 10 men. One of the more experienced soldiers had  explained to him that most ogre mercaneries call themselves "man-eaters."

Even the mere thought  sended chills down his spine sheepishly hoped that they didn't live up to their name.

[adwarf]

Alek stood up, and sweeped his pistols, and rifle off the ground they were his weapons one of the greatest long range killers ever created. This war had been dragging out for a long time, and Alek was getting tired of the war, and the death. The death was the worst he watched many men die, some under his command had died, and those were the worst the men who trusted you with their lives had died, because of an order you had followed, or from mistake you had made during a mission. To this day it still haunted him his first battle, as the orks swarmed through the front gate he watched as men were slaughtered left, and right. That is why Alek stood up and fought to protect those that couldn't protect themselves that was his oath he would die before he let an innocent die.

One of the other handgunners yelled that they were moving, and Alek ran over to get into line. The march to end this had begun, but it would be a dangerous one Alek knew this, and he sensed his men did to. He thought We will see what comes of this now onward we go down a path towards the darkness.

[Ghazkull]

3 Days had passed since the beginning of the journey and since then it hadn't stopped raining. The roads were becoming muddy and the plains of Averland, usually lush green valleys teeming with bees and horses had more resemblence to the cursed Marshes of Marienburg. The treck was only slowly proceeding and Lord Albrecht was getting more and more annoyed by the slow speed of the Regiment...

[Dwarmin]

Typical...of all the roads through Averland, they had to choose the muddiest and worst maintained.

Isadora adjusted the cap of the floppy hat she was wearing to keep out the rain, which had chosen to gust up at that moment.

She decided to chat with another Human soldier marching near, if only to relieve some of that unnatural tension she was feeling herself and feel a little less lonely. She gently brushed the black hair and rain water out of her eyes with her left hand and said...

Speaking to Alek Richford: "You seem tense. Are you afraid of the battle to come?"


((Visual: Isadora is Human Female, medium build with green eyes and black hair. She wears a heavy imperial flag with a harness, simple tan overalls, and a floppy rain hat. She wears a thin rapier on her right hip in a watertight leather sheath, and a silver bangle on her right hand enscribed with some writing you can't make out from your distance. The rain seems to be making her depressed. ))

EDIT: Anyone is free to jump in anytime!

[elitetaco3519]

"I love the rain!" Yelled Hapsus. But what he didnt love was the mud. To pass time of the slow travle, He exchanges war stories with the other Orge.

[adwarf]

Speaking to Isadora : " No, I am not afraid. The sights of war have long since plaqued my dreams. I have seen many battles, but my first one was the worst, and it will always be that way."

With that Alek turned to his men, and began ordering them to make sure the gunpowder doesn't get wet. After a few minutes he thought There is nothing for a man o be afraid of, but letting his country down, and letting his comrades down. That is what I have always thought, but sometimes I ask myself "Is it my fearlessness, and experience that makes me a great soldier, or does it make me a monster? Am I a monster for charging forth into battle as my allies die around me, or am I honoring their memory? I know none of these answers, and yet they haunt me, and it is these questions that I am afraid of, so does this make me human, or am I a different creature, a heartless being?

[Ahra]

(muttered) may sigmar stop this rain this is getting ridiculus.