In the dead of night, in the icy fog, thousands of torches were lit, kindling the dark like fairy fireflies. The proud knights of the brotherhood, men and women alike, stood scattered on the hills, silent, shields and swords clasped in their hands, the hood of their great black cloaks drawn close. In the distance, the sea of enemies parted. A deep mechanical rumbling resounded, echoing in the silence. There they come! Six great and rusty juggernauts, their blinding headlights piercing through the mist, catterpillar tires grinding and groaning, vicious mowing blades at the fore, and a small fortress on top, flames spitting threateningly in all directions. "So fast, they are so fast," one of the Brotherhoods whispered uneasily. The juggernauts dash forward, thousands of mercenaries trailing, running, in their wake, shouting and jeering, clad in bearskins, gladiator-armor, goth-capes, armed with chains, axes, knives, clubs and crossbows, or dressed in leather pants baring their arse, sporting green and red mohawks, gas-masks and fire-goggles. And behind that, the orderly lines of the imperial army of the autocracy slowly advanced, long spears and tall helmets glinting in the night.
The juggernaut is the engineer's weapon of choice in Hildmoor: unstopable, quick, suitable for any terrain, with weapons that inflict a maximum level of pain. Efficient. The juggernauts are giant steel mammoths, castles on wheels that dwarf any onlooker. Great catterpillar tires crush and trample those in its path, and a complex engine of rotating and mowing blades at the front of the juggernaut cut and rent bones like breadsticks. On top of the juggernaut is a fortress of wood and stone and steel, complete with ramparts and a tower, and a steering cabin full of levers and buttons. Inside, the juggernaut has room for at least a hundred footsoldiers. On the platforms, flamethrowers and nailguns point in every direction.