Blood in the Sand, chapter 1, landing

The buzzing of the engine was loud and obnoxious, even in the room that used to be the captains quarters. The many voices of screeching rats ware heared everywhere. The crackling of Warpenergy echoed. Smells of Sulphur, poop and a strange aroma of dead flesh filled the air. With eyes keenly twitching everywhere a ragged looking and particularly nasty smelling one looked down on a map. His hands nervously tapping the table. Two females were tied up in a corner. "yar yar, Yeshhh" the rat exclaimed when he finished looking at the maps. "Elfen Meat will be our dinner mateys!" A gulf of cheers went through the crew. "Get the engine running! Ultuin is before our bow!"
With a snap and a crackle of a whip dozens of slaves were forced to move forward, starting up the engine. The Warlock Engineer screeched as he prodded a particular slave he had grown an interest in over the journey. "Git me mah whip!" He said. In the middle of the large hall in the ship, a green stone started glowing as the Warlock Engineer summoned up the winds of magic and poured them into the machinery. A vile smoke rose from the poorly constructed machine. The noise became louder than ever as the engine went full throttle, risking many slaves on the vessel.
They had been adrift on the sea for dozens of weeks, with food becoming scarce they were by now no strangers to eating the slaves that were fried by the warp-engine. They had lost all navigation for a long time after entering the mists that surround the mythical Ulthuan.

As the sun rose gently above the sea, the sound of hooves thumping on the sand was a welcome sound. For days they had now ridden the shores of Cothique, eversince there had come report of unnatural smoke between the mists from sailors. It was none other than Prince Rethon who was riding out to intercept the interlopers. A valliant man, Prince Rethon was, as keen a horse-master as any Ellyrian. His men were all young and vital, with lances kept sharp every day, and saddles of the finest leather.
From the front of colomn a horn sounded with a clear ringing. The riders then all turned their horses to the sea. In the front of the army, Prince Rethon's keen eyes percieved a relatively sizable vessel appearing from the mist, where at first glance it looked like an Imperial Cruiser, it soon showed all signs of Skaven infestation. Rethon knew and trusted his troops above any army of the Elves, but even as daring and brash as he was, he knew he couldn't take on an entire cruiser filled with rats.
He turned to his army. "Terelon, Marenion!" He called, and two knights came riding forth from the Silver Helms. One with raven hair and clear blue eyes, and the other with bronze hair and a sharper complexion in his face. "Ride forth to Tor Elessa, and rally from their ranks as many troops as you can under my name. They won't take kindly to it, so stress greatly that we cannot garantee the safety of the lesser villages without their aid."
The two nodded and rode off to the south east.
A mage came forth from the ranks, roden on a shiningly beautifull black mare. "My love, your voice troubles me." she notes with a fair voice, as her golden hair waves in the wind. He wore a dark blue gown, and while it did not hide from sight, much of her fair skin, it was made to complement her feminine shapes.
"I am as troubled as you are, my precious." the prince said to the dame in the gown.
That night they set up tent on a cliff overlooking the shore. The sea was rough, and the cruiser was making it's way to the shore slowly; barely able to navigate the treacherous rocks and at one point even got attacked by a seaserpent. While they did manage to fight off the beast, their ship was grounded for the night.
In the tent the prince and his lieutenants were gathered with a map of the planned battlefield.
"Eleros, mighty friend of my father, Tomorrow you will ride with the Second Cavalry. Your task will be to lure out their left flank, and if they refuse to take the bait, you, and Knightly Murannas and his Chariot, and brave Terlacus with your Silver Helms, will assault them together, break their ranks and trample them under your hooves.
Keranner, Tomorrow you and your First Cavalry will ride with me down their centre. We will force their General to focus on us, and our burden is great therefor.
Tennander, Son of Aracus, Set up your bolt thrower here. Your Eagle claws will be our only attack from afar."
That moment, Telaron and Marenion came back. "My prince, we have gathered as many local troops as we could. We will be aided by a company of Spearmen, and a company of Archers. However, the rats will still outnumber us four to one. We should attack now while we have the advantage."
Rethon put a hand on the shoulder of his trusted companion. "No." He smiled. "They are stuck at sea and we are no sea-worthy army."
Rethon then turned to the map again, drawing out the reinforcements. "My dear, you will lead the Archers, lead their arrows with your magic. and finaly, Telaron, you will lead the Spearmen in the Centre alongside my knights. Your burden is great, but together we can hold them."
The woman then put her arms around the prince with a gentle smile. "there is still that they are with many more than us..." She said.
Rethon turned around in her arms and kissed her. "Fear not. I have faith in the enchantments you cast on our weapons and the bravery of my knights that we will triumph."
"I fear not for victory, but for for your life. You know the skaven, they will have some way to kill you when you least expect it. I fear not your heart, or your ability to lead these men, but even you must realise the danger we will face tomorrow." The woman said with a keen voice.
"I promise you, I will bring you the head of their leader on a stick, and deliver his army to the welcoming hands of the boatsman." Rethon said, his voice strong and noble, but tender also.
"rest now, men. And pray to Lileath, and tomorrow, sing for Ereth Khail and her children, and to Mathlann. May the gods bless your blades tomorrow."
The groups went to their regiments and explained their plans for the battle. Rethon, and Sanagil, the mage, retreated to their tent, and for that night, they were one, in body and mind. A night full of anticipation, for this might be their last on this world. Tomorrow, either one of them might be where no elf knows.

The next morning broke with the clear ringing of silver trumpets and the prince Rethon saddled up his horse, Thendrion, who's black manes and shining dark brown fur shone in the early sunlight like brass. His wife, the mage Sanagil had dressed in her usual gown. Revealing her slender figure, as dark blue and turquoise fabricks waved over her legs, and the golden top braced her breasts firmly. The staff she carried was made of the hard pine wood of Cothique and it was topped by a gilded crescentmoon shape.
Rethon's armour was a shining silver, his helmet was low, for elven standard, and showed only bits and pieces of his face. The sides of his helmet were graced by two eagle-wings. He carried with him a spear, who's shaft was made of the same pine-tree that graced his wife's staff. The tip of his spear was made of gleaming silver; with only a single rune on it's surface; the rune of Mathlann, the hunter. Below the tip, there was a piece of cloth wrapped around it, it was dark blue and ragged.
Rethon climbed atop of Thendrion, who's armour was of legendary steel, a dragon-armour. His head-guard also graced by two eagles-wings.
Rethon rode to his army, assembling with great discipline. He stood atop a hill, standing up in his stirrups. "Men!" He called out with a voice clear and clarion as the silver trumpets of the morning. He then raised his sword and the army let loose three shouts of loyalty. "I am no God!" Rethon declared. "I am no King, I am but a prince of a small outpost of Ulthuan. Insignificant enough not to even be named on the map! But that outpost, is home. Fight for it as you would for any lover!"