The Battle of Geata-Iarainn
"It were raw chaos. Dead and dying all over, greenskin and joten clashing with Viid and manling. Magisters hurling spells, to t'ose few o' us wit' sensitivity ta t'e 'ether as them mages call it, wit' wild abandon, bein' countered by the dark forces of the Slaughter Shamans Kurzan's army 'ad at their disposal. But they hurled spells back, only to suffer t'e same. Occasionally one sides magick users would get somethin' through, an' t'ose moments were more horrifyin' than the thunder o' ten thousand cannon. People would just burst apart, greenskins in swathes would just immolate, nae or nary a warnin'! The ground 'neath yer feet would shake and crack and rupture! Friends screamin' an' dyin', steel rippin' and tearin', Joten laughing like an avalanche, damned greenskins howlin' an' cheerin' wit' glee. Women were being butchered in streets, children tae. It was a free fer all, they weren't here ta conquer the city. T'ey was 'ere ta slaughter it in the name o' their damned Ruined God. The retreat into the caverns district an' down ta Docklands felt like an execution march. Fer all we knew, any o' us, even High King Cormac, whom was among the army troops left in t'e city, tryin' ta get people moving....the corsairs, pirates and Greenskins they'd taken aboard were still blockadin' the city. We believed we were doomed. Nary a sign o' our navy lemme tell ye. It was a pitiful night, hearing the sounds from above, seeing the beasts celebratin', hearin' the shrieks and cries o' t'e tortured an' dyin'......But t'en another sound broke the night. Was about two hours after midnight, when the thunder of cannon burst o'er our ears. At first panic. But word spread, an' we heard the cries, saw the smoke and fire, and the sails and ships comin' in, the sound of war drums beating out, the Wolves o' t'e Sea singing out as they tore inta that pirate blockade, capsizing ships, smashing masts, washin' out crews. Never did ye see a sight like it. It'd been days since some o' us slept, but seein' our navy makin' t'at desperate run, seein' the Black Fin leadin' 'em, when rumor had been for weeks t'at she'd been sunk, it gave everyone, every man and woman an' even t'e children, another wind. Another breath o' Iron. I nae remember the battle, just the speed and adrenaline o' it. I nae sure how many I fought, if I fought, but I does know it was late evenin' the next day when my memories return. I was exhausted, wounded freshly in over half a dozen places, and me war axe's blade was dull as a 'ammer. The costs was 'orrific. But we won. Geata-Iarainn still standin' and Kurzan the Butcher nae be nae more.
A veteran of the Siege of the Butcher in a bar somewhere in the Docklands, Geata-Iarainn.
The Conflict
Prelude
The Siege of Geata-Iarainn had been on for almost two months up to this point. Not many casualties on both sides, though the defenders naturally felt their losses more. The main victim here were civilians. Disease was running rampant. Food was short. Water was shorter. The Magisterium was helping as much as they could, however a city this large, things were getting dangerous and desperate. The civilian dead was already north of five thousand leading up to this action. Leading up to this action, the Suranthi Forces in the city assumed they were alone, cut off. Sleep deprivation, hunger, low morale, things were looking grim. Little did anyone know they were about to get so much worse.The battle began as normal, the artillery crews on Geata-Iarainn's walls loading and priming, magisters taking their positions in the highest towers over the city's southern gate, going about their duty to counter and prevent the horde's Wrath Shaman's from doing much of anything as best they can. No one could know what was about to happen, as the greenskin and joten horde began their assault again. Distinctly notable was that Kurzan himself was not present and leading the assault this time. It was the Joten Jarls. That was the first real warning. The Suranthi forces Magisters realized too late what they were feeling, for the Greenskins Wrath Shaman's had fallen back to a safe distance, and with near four hundred prisoners of war from previous engagements, began a ritual. Too late they noticed the building of Void energy off in the distance, and though they tried, they could not unravel the spell weaving. Four hundred or so prisoners of war, civilian and soldier alike, were sacrificed for this unholy ritual. Pure madness was the result.
The fighting was thick and fierce. Siege ladders, towers, ropes and lines, joten trying to get near the wall and climb or break it. Cannon thundered, rifles cracked, as the Suranthi defenders held their walls. But then....it happened. There was a cracking like that of bone, but louder, filling the ears of all, the sky briefly streaked crimson....and the city's main gate and the towers and people whom did not abandon their positions swiftly enough....erupted into an explosion of blood and gore, the city's southern entrance collapsing into a pool of blood.....from which rose Kurzan reborn, fully seven meters tall, wings of shrieking skins of the sacrificed prisoners, body armored in the bones of his victims, teeth like a shark, a dark crimson sword of monstrous proportions humming with pure evil and wrath, hungry for blood. Embracing his Ruined God fully, Kurzan had been reborn with his offering. He was now a being of the Void, effectively immortal, for death here would merely banish him back to the Void, waiting for another chance to return and wreck destruction on mortals. Rising behind him, a small legion to lead his zealous and raging horde, six Slaughter-Hounds, four armed monsterous wolf headed, bat winged, four meter tall beings wielding two massive axes that would be impossible for any being with two arms to wield together. Sixty Gorecaps, almost dwarf like wild murderous beings, whom wore skulls of the sacrificed, which if they soak them with blood, would fuel their frenzy and allow them to sustain in the material world longer, as such beings are constantly resisting reality itself, trying to shunt them back into the Void where they belong. But with an Abomination of Wrath to lead them, this would not be the case. So long as Kurzan was on the Material Realm...the other beings of the Void would be stable and not need to worry about being pulled back into the Void.
The Suranthi defenders were not ready. It was chaos, pure madness, as the Joten and Greenskin horde, let by this warband of Beasts of Slaughter, poured through the freshly opened gap like a resevoir of water through a hole in a dam. But to their credit, the Suranthi people by and large did not panic en masse. They found their courage. The next six days were marked by brutal street to street, house to house fighting. The Greenskins had their way to be sure, and many died. But every street corner, every building, every room, was a battle field. This continued for almost eight days, with the Suranthi forces and people being forced back and back, until the 6th of Agun, where the true battle of Geata-Iarainn would occur. Pushed back and down to the docklands, knowing the naval blockade was still in place, with no word on any support approaching by land or sea.....The Suranthi forces had already suffered, unbeknownst to them, nearly seventy percent of the casualties they would suffer from this battle had already occurred. But they couldn't know that. So they dug in. They created a blockade by ripping down buildings, ships in the docks, as they were useless. Hauled cannon and ammo and powder. Everyone helped. Military, civilian. Man, woman and child. They torched every building west of the first docks, basically putting their own backs to the bay, full well knowing the Greenskin Horde woulc come.
And they would. However they had many prisoners, and after such a great victory, the undisciplined beasts couldn't help but celebrate. They also still met opposition, though the bulk of the military and civilians had managed to escape to the docklands district, some few kept fighting in the city. Geata-Iarainn is a massive city, and so guerilla warfare became the norm. Known criminals, racketeers and thugs, took up arms beside the city's police force. Miners utilized their knowledge and access to explosive material, launching indirect attacks, rigging buildings to blow and collapse. However these things were more stubborn diefiance than any believe of possible victory.
Many of the Viid soldiers left considered heavily in those nights, hearing the screams of their people, friends and neighbors whom were captured, whom hadn't fled, or been able to flee, and were fighting, being captured, tortured and sacrificed, or dying viciously, and considered taking 'the oath'. Becoming a Braserk. But High King Cormac would have no such talk. Suffering from dozens of wounds, having joined the fray, and even brought down a Slaughter-Hound himself, leading and fighting with the Iron Dragons in the city, constantly trying to help people get to the barricade. Those two nights before the final clash, that last true engagement, he did not sleep. Despite his age, he did not rest. He did not seek treatment for his wounds, He wandered his troops, and gave every squadron, every unit, the same speech.
I be hearin' t'e talk, an' I understand. I understand yer hurtin', ye feel shame, sorrow, loss. Some o' ya lost families. Brothers and sisters, kids, wives, mothers an' fathers. We all lost neighbors, or dear friends. Things be lookin' desperate. However. If'n ye take such an oath, I will have ye executed on t'e spot. That nae be honorable. Yer own personal sorrows an' percieved 'honor' 'as no meaning 'ere and nae! Ye take such an oath, ye are swearin' ta die 'ere when the horde comes and leave the civilians t'at be yer responsibility be'ind ya ta be raped, tortured, slaughered, or worse, sacrificed. There be nae 'onor' in t'at. Ye want 'onor. Ye fight as soldiers. Ye hold that damn barricade against t'at frenzied 'orde of ravening beasts. They want ye ta come out and fight em wildly, undisciplined, like a wild rabid beast. That favors 'em.
Ye want 'onor? Ye don't give em the damned satisfaction. Ye hold the barricades. Ye blast em with cannon and shot. Ye stab em with spear, split skulls as t'ey attempt ta scramble over barricade with axes. Ye fight as soldiers, disciplined, letting em come ta ye and drown in lead, arrow, bolt and blade. Ye don't give em the fight they be wantin'. Cold, methodical, professional. Ye damn well understand me! So nae more talk of that blasted oath. I'll have disciplined military defendin' this barricade. Nae wild suicidal idjits seekin' death!"
The speech given many times across the barricades by High King Cormac over the two nights leading up to the actual pitched battle.
Deployment
All is not lost. No retreat, no surrender, no death. The Wolves of the Sea are here. Black Fin leads the brave assault, cannons singing. Its the Northern Fleet!
Message passed along that came to High King Cormac and other officers and throught he troop ranks, a scant few minutes before the greenskin horde would launch their assault.
With this news, the Suranthi defenders had new resolve, their commanding officers splitting off to the help coordinate the defense at the key points now. The three largest piers in the bay, those areas of the blockade had to hold. High King Cormac and his Iron Dragon body guard took to the north flank, the section of the blockade the most open, using docked patrol boats to move quickly over to that side of the bay, positioning themselves to center the defense to keep the Metal-Yards Docks from being over-run. The Magisterium, led by Master Magus Tobias, back in the fray despite injuries, took the southern most barricade, just south of the Repair Docks. Storm-Father Niosgruam and the Storm Lancers took up position at the section of blockade that continued from just south of the repair docks, to blockade the Salt Quarter and the entrance to the Break Swell Wall, insuring that the filthy greenskins would need to go through them to have any chance of getting to the wall and using it to cross and take control of Armur an Cheartais private docks, the third biggest available for landing.
Battlefield
Conditions
Belligerents
Suranthi Armed Forces
Led by
The Butcher's War Horde
Strength
1688 Saltbeards crewing 14 ships including Black Fin
12 Wolves of the Sea (War Orca)
308 Tundra Rovers
450 Iron Riders
230 Storm Lancers
230 Iron Dragons
300 Magisters, Warpriests, Priests and/or Physicians
250 Engineers, at first manning the massive artillery batteries within the towers of the wall surrounding the upper city.
9378 Civilian Militia volunteers
Total Strength: 15241 troops
5119 Pirates and Corsairs on 41 ships
2933 Ogres
477 Stone Giants
281 Frost Giants
60 Redcaps (Horrors of Iracundia)
6 Slaughter-Hounds (Nightmares of Iracundia)
Kurzan the Butcher, Abomination of Wrath *Leader*
29770 Troops, 41 Ships Total
Casualties
1077 Clansmen
1089 Saltbeards (6 ships sank in the initial assault, the Black Fin would be lost to fire as well, the ship to old the damage to great to save her, making 7)
4 Wolves of the Sea (War Orca)
121 Tundra Rovers
200 Iron Riders
30 Storm Lancers
22 Iron Dragons
138 Magisters, Warpriests, Priest and/or Physicians
Total Casualties: 7795 (Over ten thousand counting non combatant civilians)
4022 Pirates and Corsairs, 32 Ships
2366 Ogres
391 Stone Giants
204 Frost Giants
60 Redcaps (Horrors of Iracundia)
6 Slaughter-Hounds (Nightmares of Iracundia)
Kurzan the Butcher, Abomination of Wrath *Leader*
23951 Troops, 32 Ships Total Casualties
Objectives
Slay Kurzan the Butcher
Break the Greenskin army
To slaughter all for their Ruined God, and turn Geata-Iarainn into a Void Tainted Ruin of a city.
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