It is well known that greenskins are a race that never records history. Created by the Old Ones in a time of crisis solely for the purpose of war, their understanding of history is limited to the oral traditions of slang, stories, rumors, and myths passed down among their kind.
Most greenskins have no idea how long their tribe has existed, how many leaders they've had, or what significant events have occurred. None of that matters. Greenskins mostly remember glorious victories, incredibly satisfying battles, the legendary warbosses of old Waaaghs!, and a few particularly memorable moments etched into their DNA.
For greenskins, the greatest, strongest, and most Waaagh!-worthy warbosses have undoubtedly accomplished many great deeds. For example, building towering piles of "humie" skulls, hosting grand "beard-roasting" feasts, and the glorious tales of crushing the "spiky boyz" (Chaos).
But for greenskins, the greatest temptation of all is to break through Black Fire Pass, enter the "humie" Empire, and go on a rampage of burning, looting, and killing. To smash the humies' seemingly sturdy cities and grand temples into rubble, then defile them with their filth—nothing could be more satisfying.
The "beardy enemies" (dwarfs) are not hard to defeat. In greenskin memory, their wars with the dwarfs have been a mix of victories and defeats, roughly even. The most recent and glorious victory was undoubtedly when Grimgor Ironhide nearly wiped out the dwarf royal family at Karak Kadrin. The most recent and devastating defeat was the fall of Karak Eight Peaks, where roughly 100,000 greenskins died in battle, as Belegar Ironhammer and the "grey warboss" Leon crushed Skarsnik and Queek Headtaker, chopping them and their squigs into pieces.
Therefore, compared to fighting the dwarfs, the temptation to break through Black Fire Pass and ravage the humie plains is far greater. Just look at the legendary greenskin warbosses: Gorbad Ironclaw nearly destroyed Averland, Solland, and Wissenland before being stopped at Altdorf. Grom the Paunch swept through the southern Empire, nearly reaching Middenheim, and even Waaagh!-ed his way to Ulthuan.
When a mysterious visitor from east of the World's Edge Mountains approached the powerful greenskin warboss Wargaz Ironjaw, a warboss of immense strength, and proposed that he lead a Waaagh! to attack Black Fire Pass, Wargaz Ironjaw didn't think twice. This sounded like a great idea!
He had long wanted to launch a Waaagh! of destiny!
That mysterious visitor was none other than Mannfred von Carstein. Over centuries, the last vampire count had come to understand the greenskins' interests perfectly. When he clumsily explained his plan in the greenskin tongue, the orcs immediately became excited and frenzied.
Yes! Crushing humies is far more fun than fighting beardies!
Of course, was Mannfred really advocating for the greenskins' benefit when he urged them to attack Black Fire Pass and invade the Empire?
You tell me.
But aside from Mannfred's understanding of greenskin interests, the greenskins' own predicament was also a major reason why Wargaz Ironjaw was able to gather such a massive Waaagh!.
Since the fall of Black Crag and Karak Eight Peaks, the greenskins' survival in the southern World's Edge Mountains had become increasingly difficult. With the dwarfs united and the "grey warboss's" forces in the Badlands, the greenskins' living space had shrunk significantly.
The reclaimed Karak Eight Peaks was now an impenetrable fortress, and the humie forces in the Badlands had received full support from the dwarfs. More greenskins were forced to move south, only to clash with Settra's Tomb Kings. The undead were even more troublesome than humies and beardies, often getting back up after being knocked down, their bones reassembling even after being shattered. Fighting them was neither satisfying nor fun. After several battles with the Tomb Kings, the greenskins of the Badlands had gained little.
From the greenskins' perspective, it was indeed time for a change, a fight for their survival.
With both sides having their own needs, Mannfred successfully struck a deal with the greenskins.
Thus, this massive Waaagh! erupted.
Thanks to Mannfred's precise information on the route and timing of Stirland's reinforcements, Wargaz Ironjaw led his elite forces in an ambush, slaughtering thousands of Stirland troops. General Stauff of Stirland was quickly beheaded, his head hung from the warboss's boar.
Similarly, the tribal shamans agreed with Mannfred's suggestion: let the lowly goblins and boyz exhaust the humies' strength and numbers, tire them out, and then have the warboss lead the elites to deliver the final blow!
So, did Wargaz Ironjaw's plan succeed?
Clearly, it was a resounding success.
When his elite forces arrived and joined the battle, the Imperial army was thrown into panic. No one had expected that after hours of grueling combat, the greenskins still had such a powerful reserve. The charge of over 800 boar-riding orc bosses, the 5,000-strong orc boss regiments roaring Waaagh! into the sky, the hundreds of black orcs in heavy armor wielding massive two-handed axes, and the two towering Idols of Gork and Mork advancing side by side—all of this nearly shattered the Imperial army's morale.
It was the straw that broke the camel's back.
The first to be hit were Nuln's artillery regiments. Facing the charge of boar-riding orc bosses, the Nuln forces bore the brunt. Even these brave and seasoned artillerymen couldn't help but panic. When the boar-riding bosses crashed into the artillery positions like cannonballs, an entire artillery regiment's guns were destroyed in the blink of an eye.
"Fall back, fall back!" Faced with the greenskins' boar charge, Nuln's first reaction was to retreat. The Black Guards and Ironclads sent by Emmanuelle quickly surrounded Frederik. Jubal Falk, commander of the Nuln Ironclads, shouted to the young baron, "My lord, you must leave the battlefield immediately! Theodor, take the baron away!"
"No! I won't leave!" Frederik, held back by two Black Guards, roared, "How can I flee from battle?"
"You must leave! Even if we all die here, you must survive!" Jubal Falk shouted at Theodor Bruckner, the Nuln Supreme Judge, "Get the baron out of here!"
"We can't retreat now!" Frederik roared, "We must hold the line!"
Two Nuln artillery regiments were quickly annihilated by the greenskins. The precious gunners were slaughtered under the greenskins' crude blades. Then came the three handgunner regiments. After two volleys, the boar-riding bosses, having lost over 80 of their number, broke through and routed the regiments.
The battlefield was filled with Imperial deserters.
Balthasar Gelt, witnessing this, was also horrified. He quickly chanted a spell, summoning a wall of Chamon to separate the Nuln Ironclads and Black Guards from the greenskins. The Supreme Patriarch then ordered Solland's elite forces to hold the line.
The Eldrad Guard moved to face the monsters. They couldn't stop the greenskins' charge, but they bought time for Nuln's forces to regroup.
The soldiers who charged forward were easily slaughtered and routed. They formed a line of flesh and blood to hold back the boar-riding bosses. Wargaz Ironjaw led the charge, cutting down two humies with a single swing of his axe!
Panic began to spread across the Imperial left flank. The orc warlord seemed unstoppable, and one terrible report after another reached Gelt.
"The First Pfeildorf Infantry Regiment has been routed!"
"My lord, the Third Pistolier Regiment can't hold any longer!"
"The Fifth Solland Halberdiers have been completely destroyed!"
"If we don't get reinforcements soon, the Eldrad Guard will be wiped out!"
Even the metallic-faced Gelt was at a loss. He could only order everyone to hold the line.
Just as the left flank, held by Solland and Nuln forces, was on the verge of total collapse, a young man in golden robes and black armor reappeared. He raised high the banner of Nuln—a black field with a golden lion and scales. Behind him, the Nuln Ironclads and Black Guards formed a circular formation using supply wagons, cannons, and war machines.
"Frederik von Liebwitz-Benadetto is here!" Frederik shouted, holding the banner aloft. "Soldiers of Nuln and Solland, rally to me!"
The deep sound of war horns echoed across the battlefield. Under the massive banner, the battered left flank forces began to regroup around Frederik.
Wargaz Ironjaw noticed Frederik and laughed. "Look at dat lil' humie, all fancy-like, tryin' ta rally his boyz. What a joke!"
However, the Nuln Ironclads' firepower was indeed formidable. The first waves of greenskins that tried to charge the circular formation were cut down by volleys of gunfire. The fearless Black Guards swore to protect their baron, their greatswords cleaving through any greenskin that dared approach. Theodor Bruckner, the Nuln Supreme Judge, punched two orc bosses flying and cut down a goblin warboss with a single swing of his blade.
Wargaz Ironjaw quickly realized that the circular formation wouldn't fall easily, and he had little interest in Frederik. The greenskin warlord ordered, "Boyz, don't waste time on dat lil' humie! Follow me! Waaagh!"
"Waaagh!"
"Waaaaaaaaaagh!"
The greenskin elites bypassed the circular formation and charged straight for the Imperial center.
If Frederik's goal was to rally the left flank, he had succeeded. The battered Nuln and Solland forces, having suffered over 50% casualties, managed to retreat into the circular formation and hold off the greenskins. But there was no doubt that the Imperial left flank could no longer stop the greenskin advance.
The Imperial center soon found itself under attack from hundreds of boar-riding orc bosses charging from the flank. These riders were the best warriors among the orcs, battle-hardened veterans, larger and stronger than ordinary orc boys. They formed an unstoppable force.
To make matters worse, the addition of five orc boss regiments on the front lines had already strained the Reikland army. The arrival of the Idols of Gork and Mork was the final blow. These terrifying idols crushed dozens of halberdiers with a single slam of their massive fists!
Black orcs wielding two-handed axes charged into the right flank, overwhelming the Averland forces. Elector Count Marius Leitdorf's troops couldn't withstand such powerful enemies. The elector count was forced to call for reinforcements, or the right flank would collapse within twenty minutes!
"Kurt, do we have any reserves left?" The emperor's center was fully committed. He turned to Marshal Kurt Helborg in desperation.
"A few regiments… but they won't make a difference. They're mostly free companies and reserves," Helborg said despairingly. "Your Majesty, you must retreat. Take whatever forces you can and fall back. I only need two knightly orders to cover your retreat. I'll buy you time!"
"Retreat?" Emperor Karl-Franz looked at the scene before him, seemingly confused.
If the emperor retreated now, what would it mean?
Even if Marshal Helborg sacrificed himself to cover the retreat, the battle would still be a defeat. Averland would fall, the Empire's breadbasket would be lost for an entire year, and countless prosperous towns and estates would be reduced to ashes by the greenskins.
Then would come the Moot, the halflings' homeland, followed by Solland and Wissenland. Nuln would be besieged, and then Altdorf and Reikland, until the entire Empire fell.
Is this what an emperor does? Abandon his people? How would he explain this to the Elector Counts? "We killed 100,000 greenskins, then retreated victoriously to Altdorf"?
"No!" The emperor spoke, his expression resolute. "I will not return to the capital, Kurt. That's your task. Take a squadron and return to Altdorf. Rebuild our armies and defenses. As for me, I will face the greenskin warlord myself."
"Your Majesty?!" Marshal Helborg shouted in desperation. "Do you know what you're saying?"
"That's an order!" Karl-Franz's eyes were colder than ever.
Kurt Helborg quickly realized the emperor's resolve. The marshal opened his mouth, but the words of persuasion stuck in his throat.
He was a soldier, and soldiers followed orders. Marshal Helborg gave the emperor one final salute, then led a squadron of Reiksguard away.
The emperor couldn't help but smile. In the end, forcing Helborg to yield once was something to be proud of.
I hear the bells of Black Fire Pass ringing.
The war songs of the Imperial knights shake the mountains and seas.
I will forever be your sword and shield.
Even if the gates of heaven no longer open for me.
The warhammer Ghal Maraz, symbol of the Empire's protector, rose high. The emperor pointed at the greenskin horde and delivered his most inspiring speech: "Follow me, warriors of the Empire! Charge!"
Five hundred Reiksguard and a thousand Imperial knights roared in unison: "For Sigmar! For the Empire!"
From the hillside, a tide of steel rolled forward.
By now, the Imperial center was on the verge of total collapse. Only the Brunswick Honor Guard, the Carroburg Greatswords, and the Franz Guard Corps held a few scattered positions. The battlefield was a scene of slaughter, with greenskins gleefully pulling humies from their cover and tearing them apart or hacking them to pieces. If not for the steam tanks holding the line, the Empire would have already been defeated.
On the right flank, the Averland forces had also been routed. Only the von Kragelsburg Guard and the Golden Fleece Knights still fought under the banner of the "Mad Count." Marius Leitdorf had gone completely berserk, his squeals echoing across the battlefield. His runefang, "The Mother's Lament," was one of the few weapons capable of easily cutting through black orc plate armor. He no longer acted as a commander but as a one-man army.
Naturally, his presence attracted the attention of Wargaz Ironjaw. The sound of Waaagh! grew louder as over 500 boar-riding orc bosses charged the von Kragelsburg Guard, slaughtering the last few dozen members of this famous unit.
Another legendary regiment would be wiped out today.
Next came the troublesome Golden Fleece Knights. These greatsword-wielding knights tried to protect their elector count, but under the combined assault of black orcs and boar-riding bosses, they were torn apart like rags and sent flying like dolls.
Wargaz Ironjaw soon found its prey. It saw the gleaming runefang in Marius's hand. The greenskins knew well that this sword was a symbol of a warboss. If it could claim it, wouldn't that mean it had become as great as Gorbad Ironclaw?
Marius Leitdorf also saw Wargaz Ironjaw. He knew the greenskin warlord was coming for him.
"Snort snort~ It's just you and me now, you green bastard." Marius accepted the challenge. The elector count ordered the Golden Fleece Knights to back off, his squeals growing louder. He was ready.
"Nah, just me, ya filthy mule!" Wargaz Ironjaw also told the black orcs to back off. It would handle this mule itself!
"Before this day ends, one of us will stand, and one will fall!"
"Yeaaaaaa!"
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