"Ladders!" The shout came from the walltop and Roderick jerked his head around to look at the parapet, expecting Talabecmen to come pouring over the crenellations. His heart had begun pounding and he could feel a heavy knot in the middle of his chest as he ran toward the battlements, the silver hammer in one hand.

He went quickly up the stairs, his free hand clutching his robes high so he did not trip on them as he had a short time ago. He paused and pressed his body to the wall when the hand gunners fired, not realizing it was the Hochland men until he saw the smoke drifting away and their feverish movements as they reloaded. He took the last few steps and arrived on the fighting platform just as the first Talabecmen ladders slammed into the stone. 

"Get out of the way priest!" Snarled a man with a long spear as he shouldered Roderick aside to drive his blade into the face of an enemy swordsman who had appeared between the crenelations, lips drawn back in a snarl beneath his huge moustache. The spear grazed his cheek and blood misted the air, but it was enough to send the man hurtling into space. He vanished from sight with a scream.

The spearman gave his own horrible scream as a crossbow bolt, fired from the ditch beyond the wall, slammed into his forehead, ripping his helmet off to leave a savage red gouge that instantly welled with blood, blinding the man. Roderick watched in horror as the next man up the ladder drove his sword into the spearmans mouth. Without thinking he took a step forward and slammed the silver hammer down with all his strength on the attackers helmet. There was a heavy "bonk" sound as the helmet caved in and the skull beneath it was crushed into pieces. He had killed a man. He turned and vomited.

He was still on his knees, dry retching when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Brandt's voice was kind, and he was speaking perhaps more loudly than he had wished to mask the fear in his eyes.

"Good job Brother. You've done yourself proud." The smithy helped the priest stand and Brandt grinned at Roderick who glanced down to see that the front of his robes, and the holy book, were smeared with vomit. "Come on, the Sergeant wants us off the wall."

Brandt gave Roderick one last heavy backslap that almost sent him over the edge and into the mud again before jogging after the Sergeant. Roderick glanced about the walltop as the hand gunners unleashed a ragged volley. Bodies of both sides lay crumpled in heaps along the wall, looks of surprise, fear, and pain, stamped on the faces of so many young men. What a waste. 

A short sword had fallen nearby and Roderick picked up, swiftly sawing the lower hem of his robe off so that he might run without issue. He has just tossed down the muddied piece of cloth when he heard Brandt's voice from below. A bellow that turned every head.

“The gate! Sergeant Hoefler, the gate!”

A horrendous screech of protesting metal and the sound of cascading stone filled the space even as the gatehouse shifted and seemed to buckle slightly as the portcullis was ripped from its mounting. Roderick saw the Sergeant leading a rush of defenders to the gate and he glanced around. The stairs were a ways away. So he jumped, aiming for the same mud patch he had hit before. 

As he struck the ground he felt pain shoot through his left ankle and he pitched forward, managing to save himself from falling into the mud, the the book of sigmar, one its loose chain, smacked him across the face and his nose began to bleed. He would have laughed if he wasn't so damn scared and the chuckle he had felt at the ridiculousness of his situation was replaced by a sob of fear.

Sergeant Hoefler and his men reached the gate in a rush, trying to form a hurried shield wall. They never stood a chance as two Greatswords, like the legends they were, appeared through the dust and took their heavy weapons to the gathered militia. Men fell screaming into the mud, or were trod underfoot as they were knocked down in the panic. Talabec militia followed, along with crossbowmen and behind them, dark shapes looming in the archway, Roderick could see horsemen. 

"Brandt! Tell his lordship the gate is lost, get him to safety!" Hoefler was screaming at the smithys apprentice even as he hefted his sword and shield. There was no one else to call upon. The only two men not engaged in the fight at the gate were Brandt and Roderick. The two looked at each other and then turned as one and ran for the keep. Behind them they could hear the shout of the Talabec commander.

"Throw down your weapons and you will be spared! Surrender!"

The last sight Roderick had as he limped up the steps to the keep was that of Hoefler sinking into the mud, a long pike in his chest, and the rest of his men throwing down their weapons and holding their hands wide in surrender.