03 - Call to Arms Read Online Free

enemy presence.
    Reacting before the man could get close enough to strike it, the troll lashed
out with its club. Gessler felt a searing pain in his thigh. He was thrown from
his saddle, the world spinning crazily for a second before he landed jarringly
on the hard sun-baked ground.
    Dazed, he tried to stand, only to find he seemed strangely unable to support
himself. Looking down, Gessler saw his left leg had been reduced to a pulped
mess by the troll’s blow.
    He heard his horse whinnying in terror. Glancing behind him, he saw the poor
animal lying on its side. Its back was broken, the splintered bones of the spine
sticking out from underneath the saddle. He was moved to try to help it, to end
its suffering, but it was a forlorn thought. Unable to walk, he could hardly
help himself, never mind administer a mercy stroke to the dying animal.
    A shadow fell across him. Looking up, Gessler found he was face-to-face with
the troll. The monster was standing over him. Grinning, it leaned forward to
inspect its prize, saliva drooling from its mouth and leaving discoloured
patches in the grass as it dripped to the ground.
    Time seemed to slow. As he faced the last moments until his death, Gessler
found the world grew distant. He could hear the sounds of battle, the roar of
orcs and the screams of men, but they felt far away, drowned out by the noise of
the troll’s breathing.
    Gessler’s final thoughts were of a beautiful girl with laughing eyes and hair
like spun gold. He did not blame her for his misfortunes. He had known her only
a few hours, but he supposed he loved her. In another world, perhaps they could
have been happy.
    The troll opened its mouth. The last thing Gessler saw was its teeth. Then,
darkness swallowed him.

 
 
PART ONE
RED HARVEST
    (Geheimnistag—Nachgeheim—Early Erntezeit)
     
     
    From
    The Testimony of General Ludwig von Grahl (unexpurgated text):
     
    It began in late summer. As the month of Vorgeheim drew to a close, a vast
army of orcs and goblins emerged from the Middle Mountains. Sweeping past the
network of forts and watchposts that guarded the frontier, the greenskins pushed
deep into northern Hochland.
    At their head was a new leader. Through a mixture of brutality and cunning,
an orc chieftain called Morgoth Ironfang had managed to combine the fractious
orc and goblin tribes of the Middle Mountains into an effective army. In time,
it would become clear Ironfang was a far more able opponent than most of his
human adversaries were inclined to credit, but for the moment that revelation
still lay in the future.
    In the meantime, Ironfang’s forces cut a destructive swathe through northern
Hochland, destroying every settlement in their path.
    In Hergig, the first news of the invasion reached the Elector Counts court on
the night of Geheimnistag, the so-called “Day of Mystery”—one of the most
ominous dates in the Imperial calendar. None dared say it aloud, but many at
court wondered whether it was a sinister omen.
    Whatever the case, Count Aldebrand Ludenhof of Hochland was not a man to be
swayed by omens. Ordering that an army should be immediately dispatched to repel
the invasion. Count Aldebrand made known his wish that the orc chieftain’s head
be delivered to him so he could mount it on a pikestaff.
    Of course, it takes time to raise an army—regiments need to be mustered,
supplies have to be organised, and so on. Accordingly, several weeks passed
before the Count’s army took to the field, allowing the greenskins time to push
even deeper into Hochland. Soon, the roads from the north were crammed with
refugees, while the sky was black with the smoke from burning villages.
    As for my own situation, at this moment of darkest crisis for my homeland, I
found myself stalking the corridors of my summer house on the Talabec, condemned
to the premature retirement that had been forced on me by my enemies at the
Elector’s court. I have never been a political