Chapter IV - The Schoppendorf Gallup

The pox had struck with alarming speed. Men, Horses, women were all affected he same. Anything consumed went right through like salts through the goose. The damsels did what they could, but this was an enchanted plague and the forces of Bretonnia were weakened by the loss of bodily fluids. One Captain called it the Schoppendorf Gallup. Many were bleeding, all were discomforted.
"Ye say discomfort one more time, Chichurgeon", growled the Marquis d'Ascoyne, "and I will provide you with a lesson in discomfort." The chichurgeon swiftly left with his medical entourage. A commotion out side his tent directed the Marquis' attention to the flap which was hurled to one side and a tall woman entered.
She was well over six feet in height and lovely, but the silver of her hair and the lines around her eyes bespoke an age that went beyond mortal spans. The Marquis was dumbfounded, but only for a moment.
 "Lady Gandolfyn," he finally whispered, "What brings you to this sorry camp?"
She reached into her bag and withdrew a vial of liquid. " I have divined a great battle between you and a large force of Chaos Combined.  You will need your strength.  Drink this Ascoyne, drink it now." He sniffed it and wrinkled his nose.
"It stinks."   He was weakened by the pox.     He turned his head away.       Lady Gandolfyn, Abbess of the Collegium du Lac at the d'Ascoyne Tract, insisted and again he refused.     "Probably made with foul herbs, soiled bird feathers and roots!"     
She smiled sweetly at the old man and faster than anyone could anticipate had his nose firmly gripped between thumb and forefinger and when he opened his mouth to breathe, she deftly emptied the contents of the vial down his throat.  He made a face and then shouted.
"Why didn't you tell me it tasted like blueberries?" he bellowed, surprised that his voice and strength had returned so quickly.
"You remind me so much of Ajax, your great great great grandfather," she said as she sat down delicately with her hands folded across her lap. "I have brought my forces as well, Marquis for we cannot let Chaos win.  Let them think they are winning, yes, but never give in!”
He sat up and was standing and surprised he could do so. Lady Donda Bromeliad Gandolfyn had him bathe and dress for dinner. As he exited his tent within the hour, he noticed his entire command in the very pink of health.    His Battle Standard bearer was speaking to the Lady Gandolfynabout what was in the elixir that she and her maidens had distributed to the Bretonnian warriors and with a twinkle in her eye she answered that it had been made with foul herbs, dirty bird feathers, roots and a handful of blueberries to hide the taste.
The Marquis laughed and went to dinner with his captains.
At dinner the captains spoke of Schoppendorf and how to best get there quickly. The Marquis electing to transport his infantry in War Wagons specifically designed for such an activity and the Knights to ride their parade horses while the Warhorses were herded to Schoppendorf by the Mounted Yeomen.  All was made ready as he explained what he was doing to his captains
"Mobility is the key", he said, "To be so fast as to stun the enemy with our swiftness-" and here he was interrupted by the Prophetess.
Lord d’Ascoyne, May I inquire as to what it is you are doing?”

"Yes, we are discussing the move to Schopperdorf now" said the Marquis.
"Recall that I warned you of a large enemy force?"
 “We will meet them at Schoppendorf and ride them down.”
The Lady Gandolfyn raised her eyebrows. "Schopperdorf? Schopperdorf??" she shook her head. "The Beast men are approaching here, near Fort Schippel on their advance to Shoppendorf."
"Oh."
A courier burst into the tent.  “Lord d’Ascoyne I bring word from your Daughter Cobina!”
He had the look of terror on his face.  All eyes were on the Marquis.  “What did my daughter say?” his voice was quiet and a near whisper.
“She invites thee to join her at the junction of Wolf Creek and the Stream called Pax to take part in a wonderful battle against Beastmen."
The captains were already out the door shouting for their regimental commanders and within 30 minutes, 30 lances left to fight the enemy.
Chapter V - The Beast Lord Issued A Vile Challenge
The Marquis heard the oath and in a heartbeat his destrier was thundering toward the Beast Lord. The Lady Bromeliad cast Second Sign of Amul upon the old warrior.
The Marquis remembered the training for combat  en cheval.  “Thee art the eyes of the Lance, see thy enemy and strike to kill him”.  He set his aim low at the creatures belly, yet within the last 15 feet raised the lance tip up to strike the Beast Lord full in the chest.
The Impact could be heard across the battlefield. As the adversaries railed, The Beast Lord bore a grievous wound while the Marquis was free of injury due to the Prophetess Spell .]. They circled one another and the Beast Lord caused two wounds on the Marquis. Blood came forth from the Bretonnians armor. His right arm limply hung to one side.
It is said that on that day, Kalchakaroth, Beast Lord of the Minions of Belial,  went mad in his fury against the Marquis d'Ascoyne.   His attack was like the whirlwind and it was all the Marquis could do to parry and thwart the blows. He survived the second round which surprised him more than anyone else
The Marquis held the Sword of the Lady's Champion in his left hand and it was good, for the Marquis' strong arm was his left.   None would testify more to that than the Beastmen who watched the fight.     The Wrath was upon  the Old Warrior and he could be heard above the Din of Battle  “For r the Lady of the Lake!!" and the first stroke cut through the enemy’s armor and wounded Kalchakaroth.
"For Bretonnia!" and the second stroke cut through deeplyinto the belly of the Beastman. Kalchakaroth felt his knees buckle and his bowels loosened. He staggered under the onslaught.
"For Order and the Family of Man !"
And Thunderbolt, his warhorse of 15 years, kicked and trampled the horned thing.
It was a combat of strikes and with each blow the Beast Lord felt his spirit leave his body in little bursts until at last he fell forward, dead. The old man turned around and raised his sword. "NO PRISONERS!!” he bellowed.  "NO PRISONERS!!”. And the black banners were unfurled.
The Marquis heard another challenge and turned to see the enemy chieftan approaching from outside charge range, his Tuskigors frothing at the mouth. He braced himself and muttered "tis good to die in service to the Lady of the Lake."
No, dear reader, the Marquis did not die, but was saved by Guilliume le Courageax own retinue  hitting the Chieftan before he could strike. And by mid day the Bretonnians had taken the field.  No prisoners were takwen.  The beastmen were stacked like cordwood and their dead bodies set afire.  Soon oilky clouds of black smoke blotted out the sun.
 “This hath become a charnel house” said Etien de Rochfort,  “we are called to Middenheim, let us return to clear our lungs of this foul stench as we journey.