I FORGOT TO GIVE YOU THE DEAL FOR THE EXTRA CHAPTER.

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Pflugzeit -27-2493

The gates of the fortified city closed shortly after our arrival, leaving hundreds—perhaps thousands—of people outside the safety of the walls. They cried out desperately to be let in, but it was clear no one would open them.

Taking my banner, I advanced slowly with my griffon toward the gates. On the walls, crossbowmen and a few handgunners lined up, while the peasants trapped at the foot of the ramparts scattered in panic, trying to escape my cavalry, which surrounded the city but remained just outside the range of enemy projectiles. My men busied themselves capturing them one by one.

"Blessings of Sigmar!" I shouted with all the strength in my lungs, making my voice echo against the stone. "I am General Albrecht von Reinsfeld, Elector Count of the Westerlands and Prince of Marienburg. In the name of the Chosen of Sigmar, Emperor Luitpold, I demand the immediate and unconditional surrender of the city. If you do not comply with my terms before the sun reaches its highest point, my cannons will reduce your walls to dust, and no mercy will be shown. Open the gates and you will be spared."

After proclaiming my ultimatum, I withdrew to my lines as my troops encircled the city completely. The marching column was catching up, and soon every gate was guarded, reinforced by detachments of infantry and cavalry. Among them shuffled the peasants captured earlier, to be sent and resettled in the Westerlands.

New defenders appeared on the ramparts, and with a quick reading of my arcane gifts, I estimated they numbered barely five hundred. For a successful assault against a walled city, a ratio of ten to one is recommended. We exceeded that figure with ease. Everything now depended on the sanity of the local graf.

After a few minutes, standards appeared over the main gate. I distinguished men in full armor, a clear sign that their lord had come forth. I advanced again on my griffon, the banner waving at my side. Bolts and bullets concerned me little: with a simple gesture of Chamon's magic, I could deflect them.

"I am Graf von Erhard," proclaimed the noble from the wall. "General of the Empire, why do you bring the Emperor's forces to the gates of my city, when I am a faithful servant of Sigmar?"

"You fool no one, graf," I replied, raising my voice. "Munzig has gone years without paying tribute and has never answered the Emperor's calls to arms. Surely you do not give fealty to the Chosen of Sigmar, and thus you are nothing more than a secessionist rebel. Give me your answer: immediate surrender or the destruction of your walls and your head on my banners."

"I am willing to pay the overdue taxes and provide men to the state armies, as Imperial law dictates. There is no need to spill blood among sons of the Empire," the noble answered.

"That was not among my options, rebel. If by noon you have not surrendered your city, my cannons will open fire and no negotiation will be possible," I retorted, pulling away.

I ordered the artillery pieces deployed before the walls so they could see I was serious. Barely ten minutes passed before the gate began to open. The defenders cast down their weapons, and behind them the townsfolk poured out en masse, resignation written on their faces.

"Well then, we now have a roof over our heads," I told my men, who entered the city immediately under my command.

The process of changing hands began at once. Fortunately, the region's culture was close to that of Averland, which would ease its full integration into my lands. I ordered a controlled plunder: only the granaries and the city treasury were to be seized, everything else left in the hands of its owners. I had no intention of setting the poor example of betraying those who surrendered without a fight.

That, however, did not spare them from resettlement. Soon my men were loading carts with belongings, forcing the entire population to prepare for relocation to my domains in the Westerlands. The city would remain as a base of operations for my army.

The only ones exempt from forced relocation were the merchants, since their presence would prove useful in following the host, providing supplies during the campaign against the other princes.

While the city descended into chaos and people heaped their belongings onto carts, I sensed a group moving through secret tunnels beneath my feet. I could feel full suits of armor scraping against stone, fleeing far from the city.

I entered the castle, built upon a fortified hill, and designated it as my new staging point for controlling the lands of the Border Princes. The treasury had been partially looted: it was clear someone had tried to carry off as much wealth as possible, though they had managed to move little. Chests lay overturned, piles of gold coins scattered as if abandoned in haste.

"Well, my dear betrothed, as promised you no longer need to sleep in a campaign tent. Now you have all the chambers of this castle at your disposal, to choose whichever you like and transform it with your ice magic," I said to Katarin, who entered accompanied by her escort.

"That was… very quick," she remarked, taking in the decorations of the former lord as she walked through the hall.

"We vastly outnumbered them, what can I say? The graf had common sense… or simply fled like a dog. Either way, the city is ours. Now we have solid walls and a well-defended castle. Though its population was only about eight thousand, and much of the army will have to camp outside, we at least have a safe refuge should anything go wrong," I replied while studying local maps, drawn by the graf to navigate this ever-changing region.

"So what comes next?" asked Katarin, standing behind me to look over the maps.

"Akendorf, the great trading city of the region, will be my next objective. In the meantime, my forces will scatter to capture all the local inhabitants and relocate them to the Westerlands," I replied firmly.

"I don't understand why you're so interested in that. Why do you want to take them all back to your lands instead of leaving them here? They could work just as well, and you'd keep both the land and the territory," Katarin countered, her gaze fixed on the map.

"This region is prey to constant Chaos incursions from the east and greenskin invasions. Their fate is usually to become slaves of cultists, sacrifices, cannon fodder, or food for the orcs. Its natural defenses are decent, but no fortress—no one wants to pay to defend everyone else. There are three main passes: the Silver Road, watched by the dawi, though now they're busy reclaiming their Karaks; Mag-Dog Pass, crawling with greenskins, without a single wall to hold them back; and farther south, a great river, narrow and without bridges, acting as a natural barrier but left unguarded. And lastly, there's Death Pass, teeming with greenskins, where only Barak Varr holds the line… guarding their river zone, and as always, the dawi limit themselves to protecting their own," I explained, pointing to each pass on the maps.

"In Kislev we tried to do the same," Katarin replied with a sigh. "But many of our fortresses are lost and now occupied by the very things we tried to prevent."

"And one more little secret: if my army were crushed, I could hardly rebuild it. So every person we bring back with us is a potential recruit," I said, watching her.

"How? Don't you have Marienburg as a recruitment hub?" she asked.

"Of course, I can always conscript, but that hurts the cities' economy. And if the economy collapses, it affects everyone's pockets, and in the end damages the entire military chain. It's not viable. Instead, this is the chance to increase my revenues in my provinces and, at the same time, ensure that in the event of a sudden invasion there won't be a catastrophe with the population. I'll make sure this whole region becomes heavily fortified, and when some Imperial noble seeks to become Elector Count of these lands, he'll find nothing but a military province, totally dependent on the capital to survive."

"Well… that makes more sense now. But doesn't it cause you problems to take people by force?" Katarin asked.

"Maybe. But for now, I've only resettled Bretonnians. And Sigmar bless them, they are the most loyal folk you could ask for. They work themselves to exhaustion with a smile, and strive to learn Reikspiel. So far, I can only say I've had good experiences with them. They're obedient, hardworking, and Sigmar's clergy is already educating them into becoming fervent followers of the God of Humanity," I answered with a smile.

"Although it's also been shown that he can be a rather troublesome god… he almost got me killed," she muttered, lips pursed in a faint grimace.

"Yes, sometimes… I won't deny it. But well, Katarin, if you like you can help my captains keep order. I must march at once toward Akendorf. The quicker I act, the better. As long as I keep surprise on my side, the better the results," I said, folding the latest maps and leaving the castle to take command of my men for the next campaign.

I departed as I had arrived, watching the chaos in the city as more groups of peasants were herded by my soldiers to be transported to the Westerlands.

Once on the march, I gathered a force of some thirty thousand men heading south. We seized every village we encountered along the way, and soon captured a pair of castles in the same fashion: offering immediate surrender. This time there were no secret tunnels, and the lords surrendered without resistance, knowing they were utterly outmatched.

For an hour we continued the march, though my forces diminished to twenty-eight thousand men. It was inevitable: leaving garrisons in castles and guards for the peasants required rear detachments. Still, the column advanced steadily, and the campaign had only just begun.

As we descended following the river's course, we soon reached a bridge where tolls were being collected—but of course, the guards fled the moment they saw us. Our presence would not go unnoticed in the city.

We crossed the river swiftly and continued on, passing merchants who looked on with satisfaction at the fact they no longer had to pay tolls to cross the bridge; they only had to wait for my forces to finish crossing.

As we pressed forward, I once again dispatched detachments to seize villages and round up the local population. After crossing the bridge, we began to glimpse the great city rising before us.

Akendorf, known as the largest city of the Border Princes, lived up to its reputation. Vast, with strong walls around its heart and sprawling outer districts that revealed a dense, plentiful population, ripe for subjugation.

As we approached, people began scattering toward the walls seeking refuge. We gave them little time: at once we raised our siege camp and deployed the many cannons where all could see them, showing that we were ready to reduce the city to rubble if it resisted.

The population rushed inside the city, and soon emissaries were spotted advancing toward our lines. They carried flags of truce, sent to negotiate

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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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