The Ghost Ship Message Board: The Iron Fist... (Warlock Order/Godslayer)

The rain. At last, as if flying in upon scarred and broken wings of the dying angel of lies - heralding a truth that its subjects could never truly handle, it arrives.

The scorched and broken landscape quickly is devolving into a muddy world of desolation. The forests are still intact in some places, but along the Hagalz line there is nothing but mud - and more mud on top of that. The filth has become a way of life here - and the misery of the troops, now feasting ravenously, liken to hungered wolves, on the flesh of their fallen drake enemies.

For now, the tunnels engineered by the drows' thralls and the Dragon Legion sappers served as a much needed line of hiding spots for the troops of the Warlock Order to take cover for the next massive aerial assault that could be launched by Archos. There was no sign of snipers using the subterranean structures as an outlet for their attacks. In fact, since the Alante had not yet reached the No Man's Land of broken forests and skeleton villages that was no a raging guerrilla warzone, the Legionaire drow guerrillas were still busy killing rebellious peasantfolk and escapees from the Hagalz line. There was, as of yet, little in the way of actual guerrilla tactics being used against the Godslayer proper.

Today, as pack animals and members of the new, female brigades of army "workers" trudged on through the flowing mud and gloom of the terrain behind the trenches, hauling their charges with heads lowered and long, tossled hair cast over their faces in misery and bleak determination, the ballistas begin to arrive at the Hagalz line. These were more of the common type, and would be armed by a collaboration of newly drafted women and girls and what few men Doriztenz was willing to spare from the actual infantry combat units. His artillery, now safely within the shadows of the civilian streets and out of commission for now, was too valueble to spare any of the skilled men (primarily mechanically-inclined dwarves) for this job. Ballista duty was sure to be an almost conclusive death sentence. But the cheap and swift production of the machines in Hagalz and the abundance of expendable females was a plus factor for the Baron.

Back in the city itself, munitions and weaponry were still being manufactured in the factories therein - combined with the still unmolested industrial center of Tiferphet. (soon to change, possibly, with the arrival of the M.A.F. in the North) Companies formed of nothing but teenage girls to young women were now being hastily and half-hazardly trained in the town, using a quick method for conserving ammunition. Some females were given a rifle, those not strong enough to lug this weapon about were handed a pistol. Uniforms were handed out, many appearing baggy and disproportionate on the smaller women. Ammunition for the females was scarce, as Doriztenz sent the vast majority of it via a series of three underground Dragon Legion drow tunnel connecting the second line to Hagalz' sewers. These transports are guarded primarily by a few Drow and their enthralled Bugbears and goblins.

There was still a severe problem that could destroy a campaign of attrition and stalemate like Doriztenz was attempting to push. The raw material for munitions would be running low soon, food supplies would almost be nonexistant by winter, and Hagalz and Tiferphet still had no real air support.

The Dragon Legion field commanders cunning and ruthlessness with the ballistas had perhaps saved the Hagalz line for now - for it would at least slow the Godslayer air power. But Doriztenz needed a real defense. The Rocs would also serve as a thorn in the drakes' side, but they were not great enough in numbers to compete wholesale with the twin Air Corps of Cypress and Archos, on a twin South to North front.

A number of orders are sent out today from Hagalz.

First, the Orcish divisions are ordered to continue to entrench themselves, underneath the guidance of the Dragon Legion company of dwarven heavy infantry and small artillery there.

The rangers holding the ground between the Orcs and the Hagalz line proper are ordered to stand their ground and continue their patrols. Offensive mannuveres would be a critical mistake at this point, their commanders are told. But lite units of enemy soldiers will still be attacked, with support from either the Hagalz line or the Orcs promised, if necessary.

The Legionaire drow guerrillas in No Man's Land, on the other hand, are ordered to continue to keep a largescale peasant movement from rising - which they are doing quite a good and merciless job of. They are also ordered to attack any supply convoy arriving for the peasants and deliver the rations with haste back to the Hagalz line. If any supplies are being sent to the untrained rebels, and they are lifted by the Drow, then approximately a third to a fourth of the original substance will actually reach the trenches. Hey, dark elves have to eat too. Doriztenz knows this - but it is a momentary means of lifting the burden of hunger, not a foolproof way out of this situation. Drow are more valuble and less in number than common infantry, anyways.

Military doctors are ordered to begin collecting information on exactly how many edible plants exist in the forested countryside directly North of Hagalz. With the use of sorcerous means, this is a relatively easy task. (level one sensory Magick spheres) Even while the studies are going on, a new stockpile of crude and grim foodstuff is being forged in the woodlands as trees, bushes, herbs, and anything else from the countryside that can be harvested and mass produced as scarce but still welcomed rations in the trenches, is taken into a productions plant within the city. Minerals and nutrients are boiled out of bark, roots, and leaves, extracted from greener plants, and otherwise reaped from the vegetation. Soon, even if it tastes foul and still leaves their stomachs groaning for actual food, the food will be in the trenches.

Doriztenz' orders are almost finished. Of course, he has one last little... "request" ... to make to the big fellow of the air corps.

To the esteemed High Commander of the Warlock Order Air Force,

It has come to my attention, needless to say, that your once-impressive fleet has been defeated - again in the skies. This time, my sources tell me, there is virtually nothing left of your once-proud air corps except a skeleton fleet of mostly out-dated aircraft with a few birds of prey thrown in for good measure. That is not acceptable. This is the bottom line. The Order needs something new.

I need fighter planes, in a substantial number. I don't care what you have to do to get them. But I must require at least 15 at an aerodrome behind the Hagalz Line by this Sunday. Surely there are at least 15 fighter planes somewhere in Galen Thal. Manning ocean side defenses that have not been attacked yet - et cetera. The glory of the aeroplane, as I am sure you of all people know, Commander, is its mobility. We need to concentrate aerial might over our main lines if my strategy is to be successful. Spreading our aerial defenses is not an option if we do not have aerial defenses to spread in the first place. I expect an even greater supply of aerocraft to be pouring in soon after the arrival of these 15 Falcons. Aerial defenses is the line's greatest weakness, and with the speed of a standard Falcon biplane fighter, the might of the Godslayer dragons can, I am sure, be matched. Special ammunition will be necessary to be effective against their Heavies' flesh armor. I suggest sending delegations to the dwarves in our Iron Mountains and finding a solution to this country's drake problem.

Send two thirds of all new fighter aircraft to the Hagalz Line. The remaining third will be sent to aerodromes guarding Tiferphet, to combat the M.A.F.'s incursions.

Fare you well, Commander, and remember - do not fail me, again.

Baron Crispin Doriztenz