Marshal’s Log, Entry 14:
Praise Sigmar, for we have been spared from a great calamity.
For a long while, we had heard little of our foes in the south, the so-called ‘Reflection of Ruin’, though what news reached Yndrinienburg was stomach churning. From what we could gather, the Reflection of Ruin is a large vampiric dynasty who have been disturbed by the Skaventide, and have carved a bloody path to the north. The most frightening aspect is that the largest part of their army consists of vampires. One vampire alone can already best a dozen men on it’s own. A host of these foul creatures, starving for blood and supported by undead monstrosities, is a foe that only a few can withstand.
We were patrolling the Obsidian road, moving to the Sulphuris to check our defences in the east. The days are now bleaker than ever with the light of Hysh obscured if not entirely blocked by the unceasing clouds of ash spewing from Ashenroom Island. Suddenly Volgi gave a warning signal. We tried to prepare our defences, but there was little time.
That is when the forces appeared. On our left flank, we saw the silhouette of what seemed to be a reptilian winged creature, only instead of a massive head, there was a humanoid upper body wearing crimson armour. It was a Vengorian lord, leading various monstrous creatures, including Morgath, a reanimated dragon that crashed in front of us. On the right, we saw a line of warriors on horses clad in the same crimson armour. We were trapped. It would not be our feet that would save us, only our swords and bullets.
The Tidemarked Knights came at us with unnerving speed, and clashed against us like a wave of steel. Both men and Sylvaneth perished as they were impaled by lances or trampled into the ashen soil. Yet we stood defiant, striking back with Ghurish ferocity. Mikulitschku swung his mace with such force that one vampire was thrown of his horse, his corpse bent like a crumpled tin can. Meanwhile, our men persisted with both the Yndrinien watch and the Order of the White Wolf held their own. Both me and my closest warriors rushed in for assistance, sending more of the soulless fiends back to their master.
But our opponent was relentless. The left flank made contact, and it seemed like we could not get out. The Vengorian lord charged our steam tank and rammed it into a tower, trying to crush the machine with its supernatural strength. I was surrounded by both the vampiric knights and the zombified dragon, with my companions slowly dwindling by the relentless onslaught.
It was then that the clouds lifted and the light of Hysh pierced the battlefield. Our foes screeched as their skin was scorched by the rays of the sun. Even the Vengorian lord smouldered in the light, and with unnatural speed he and his forces withdrew like a lizard disappearing in a cave.
I cannot say it was a victory, for the force was not defeated, only halted. When the battle was done, we immediately checked for any survivors. I can report that our casualties are few, Sigmar be praised. Kallervan was however wounded during the battle.
I have my suspicions on why the Reflection of Ruin came so far west. I think that our eastern neighbours have been making alliances as well, and that Yndrinienburg offered a great prize for these bloodthirsty creatures. It does not bear thinking what the situation would have been if they had succeeded.
Yet I will hereby order a withdrawal from all our forces to Yndrinienburg. It is time to gather our full strength before the final push.