Warhammer Fantasy:Steel and gunpowder

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Nachgeheim 20th ,2488 IC

"Come on, that's it… pull… now!" I shouted to my men as we worked to uproot a large tree stump with the help of several horses.

At last, the stump gave way, and I turned to look over the terrain. Dozens of trees covered the western area, preventing the farmers from expanding their farmland. The land was perfectly flat, but completely overgrown, and the townsfolk simply lacked the tools needed to remove them.

In the days I had been here, I had turned my personal army into a work crew. They had been clearing the land: felling trees, breaking up large rocks, uprooting brush, and most importantly, paving the road. For that, we used leftover bricks from the sewer construction and mortar we had stored. All my forces were assigned to these tasks.

Though we had only been working a few days, we had already paved a good stretch. We first laid down a layer of coarse gravel as a base, and then placed bricks fixed with quicklime mortar. The paved section already stretched several kilometers.

All of this had a single goal: to give the newly arrived settlers a direct connection to Reinsfeld. If I could attract local merchants to the village, I could reduce the economic dependence this community had on my own coffers.

Since it was just a small village, any problem fell directly on me to solve. But we were already working to ensure that, once the waves of new workers arrived, the next shipments could be transported without issues to the blast furnace, feeding the war industry.

For that reason, I was deeply interested in the tin mines. Tin was used to make bronze and had other useful applications, but beyond that, I suspected the tunnels were connected to a small dwarven stronghold. Reclaiming it could earn us favor with a clan.

The dwarves, with their rigid concept of property, never consider something truly lost—only momentarily out of reach. So if we could recover that stronghold, we might not gain gold or land, but something far more valuable: dwarven recognition. And with that, perhaps we could request a runic artifact, not with minor runes, but a greater rune forged by a true master.

Once I saw that the road construction was well underway, I took a hundred men and set off to inspect the mine. We climbed the mountainside and soon found the great hole the mayor had spoken of, blocked with rocks and dried mud. We began removing the makeshift plug the locals had placed.

Since no one else in our group had magical affinity, I could fully unleash my arcane abilities without worrying about hiding them. I let the Wind of Chamon flow through me, sharpening my senses until I could almost see in the dark, feeling the resonance of the minerals surrounding us.

My men, meanwhile, had already lit their torches as we began to enter the mine.

I felt the vibration of the minerals beneath our feet… but something else too. Something was moving in the depths.

"Pikes… something's coming," I said quietly. My men immediately brought their pikes forward and formed up. The musketeers took their weapons and readied themselves.

We advanced in tight formation, as fast as the terrain allowed, trying to explore as much as we could before whatever lived in that mine caught up with us.

I felt a vibration to my left and instinctively drove my dagger into the spot. The blade pierced something hard, and when I pulled it out, I saw a spider the size of a small dog writhing, impaled.

"So these are the large spiders the mayor mentioned," I muttered as the creature died, still stuck to my dagger.

Then I felt it. Multiple light, rapid steps coming toward us.

"Ready yourselves!" I shouted, raising my voice.

And they appeared.

"Shit… they're huge!" I exclaimed as the spiders poured out of the tunnel. Some were the size of wolves, others of bears. "Shoot them!" I ordered immediately.

The musketeers stepped forward and opened fire. The detonations echoed through the cave. Several of those monstrosities dropped, but the rest charged at us without hesitation.

Fortunately, our pikes gave us the advantage. As they tried to get close, they were impaled without fail. The largest ones thrashed and screamed but couldn't breach our lines.

"Watch your legs! Smaller ones are slipping through the rocks!" I shouted, spotting spiders the size of dogs crawling beneath the stones.

I stepped forward and impaled one with my sword. I crushed another under my boot, splattering its disgusting insides across the floor.

One of the large ones tried to bite me, but several pikes pierced it before it reached me. I thrust my sword under its head and split it open. Its thick black blood splashed over the stone.

Another volley of musket fire thundered in the gallery. Many more fell, especially the largest. Finally, the survivors began to flee, retreating into the depths.

I took a deep breath and looked at my men.

"Was anyone bitten?" I asked, scanning their tense faces. Many still clutched their weapons tightly, shaken by what could only be described as an experience straight out of damned Australia.

Everyone shook their heads, staring at their feet. Without wasting time, we began finishing off the spiders that still twitched, stabbing whatever we had into their heads. I wasn't about to let those bastards recover and ambush us on the way out.

I ordered a rotation of pikes, since several had broken during the creatures' charge. We resumed the descent into the mine, following the mineral vein, which was the safest route. I could feel everything moving around us, giving us an edge in these dark depths.

We kept cutting through spider silk. It was thick, incredibly strong, and often blocked our progress for several minutes. But we wouldn't waste anything useful: I ordered all the silk we cut to be kept. We'd study its properties later.

We were ambushed several more times as we descended, each attack more desperate than the last. The spiders came in waves. Though their numbers grew, their size diminished. Soon, they were so small they were no longer a threat—you could crush them just by stepping on them.

That's when the tunnel changed.

The structure became more refined. There were supports carved from the same mineral, and the passageways widened considerably. We could move more freely, but that came at a cost: we had lost one of our key advantages—the natural bottleneck where our pikes formed an impenetrable wall.

We proceeded with caution and soon found dwarven statues, though many were broken or toppled. Some barely retained identifiable details of their origin. It was clear that, centuries ago, this had been a dwarven stronghold.

Eventually, the tunnel opened into an enormous chamber...

And it was filled with eggs.

Thousands.

Clusters upon clusters of spider eggs covered every surface. The walls, the floor, even the ceiling—everything was coated in those repulsive, pulsing whitish sacks.

I came to a dead stop. My grip tightened around my sword.

"Give me the torch. I want to test something," I said, reaching toward one of my men who was nervously lighting our way. I took the torch and approached one of the closest eggs, which was covered in damp moss and thick silk.

The moment the flame touched it, the entire thing ignited.

Within seconds, the entire chamber turned into an inferno. The fire spread as if the cave had been soaked in oil, leaping from sack to sack as they grotesquely inflated and burst. The crackling flames mingled with the hiss of countless small bodies incinerating instantly. The reaction was brutal and swift, like I had triggered a trap that had slept for centuries.

I laughed. For a moment.

"Ha... ha... ha... ah..."

My laughter stopped abruptly when I saw something that made my blood run cold.

Amid the sea of flames, a massive silhouette emerged. A monstrous spider, larger than anything I had ever faced, rose from within the burning eggs. Flames clung to its shell.

"Run!" I shouted. "Back the way we came! Run, you fools, if that thing catches us, we're dinner!"

I didn't wait to see if they obeyed. I turned instantly and began running uphill through the tunnel as the creature's steps made the very rock beneath us tremble.

We ran like madmen, slipping on loose stones and sticky webs, until we reached the main shaft we had originally descended. The creature chased us with blind fury, but we soon discovered its limit: the tunnel was too narrow for its massive body. We saw it halt abruptly, slamming against the entrance with a crash that made the stone vibrate. Its colossal form became stuck, its front legs clawing violently at the rock, trying to force its way through.

We stopped a few meters up, gasping and coughing from the smoke following us out of the burning chamber, covered in dust and spider silk.

The beast growled from the other side. We could see it struggling at the entrance, its fangs snapping in rage at being unable to reach us.

"Give this hungry little spider some lead," I said between breaths, raising my hand.

My men needed no further prompting. Two dozen muskets aligned in seconds. Everyone waited tensely until the beast stuck its head through the hole, trying to snap at the air.

The volley was deafening.

A storm of powder, lead, and fire erupted at the creature. The tunnel lit up with muzzle flashes. A hellish screech burst from the spider's throat as it thrashed, tearing up stone, dirt, and wood around it.

The tunnel shook violently. The tremor was so strong that a small rain of debris fell from the ceiling.

Then, I felt it—something collapsed with a dry, echoing thud that shook the ground beneath us. Through the thick smoke, I barely made out the creature's silhouette. The spider had fallen onto its back, legs curled inward in that universal death pose of all beasts. It was dead.

"Cough—cough—Let's get out of here until the smoke clears," I ordered, feeling the air grow thicker and the temperature rising quickly. The fire we had started was devouring everything in its path, and even though that chamber was far below us, the heat was already reaching us.

We kept moving without pause, this time ascending. Thankfully, the tunnel we had used to enter remained open and we encountered no further resistance. The return was exhausting, but clean.

When we emerged from the mine, a column of black smoke rose from the hole as if we'd opened the gates of hell. It was still early, so we took the chance to reseal the entrance with rocks, just as the locals had done before.

Afterward, we went down to the river. None of us were in any condition to return to the city like that. We were covered in thick black blood, sticky webs, dust, and crushed insect remains. I removed my breastplate and sat by the shore, washing myself with freezing water. It wasn't pleasant, but it was necessary. I shed the dead weight, scrubbed the grime from my clothes, and carefully cleaned my sword.

After a light meal, we returned to the mine entrance. The smoke had stopped, and the air—while still warm—was no longer choking. Assuming that most of the larger spiders had died in the fire and smoke, I decided it was time to fully secure the area before descending again into the tunnels that led to the dwarven stronghold.

But we couldn't leave the rear unsecured.

So we spent the rest of the day clearing. Tunnel by tunnel, chamber by chamber, moving carefully. The large ones had likely died of asphyxiation when the web-filled tunnels caught fire. But the small ones were still active, and we had to stomp them, crush them against the walls, or skewer them when they leapt from some crevice.

Tomorrow, we will inspect the dwarven stronghold.

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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.

Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.

I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.

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