Within the boiling caldera of the Dwarven Mountains, a black fortress of iron and obsidian hovered above the magma chamber. Constructed by the master architects of generations past, there was no hold on the continent which could claim to be even half as defensible.
From atop its battlements, wicked siege engines scanned the chamber walls on lookout for anything resembling an intruder. A small army of guards remained statuesque at the gates, their expressions unfazed but brows slick with sweat, armour glowing with an uncanny, magical light.
The interior was no different. Every door, window, and hatch was locked, each with their own keys entrusted to a small but dependable handful of curators. Arcane traps sculpted by alchemists and sorcerers were rigged to impale, incinerate, or disintegrate anyone wandering the halls without the necessary countermeasure on their person. The handles on the golden doors leading into the fort’s treasury had been enchanted to violently electrify any pair of hands besides those of the reigning monarch.
The throne room was less grandiose than a human would expect, and that was by design. There was nothing that accentuated a Dwarf’s stunted height more than an enormous room. The measure had been taken not only to obfuscate the king’s size, but also to draw the eye towards his superb collection of jewellery and priceless gemstones. The hall was flanked by crystal-clear display cabinets containing treasures worth more than a hundred lifetimes of labour, from jewel-encrusted ceremonial weapons to sculptures carved from scalding dragon bones.
Alberich’s most coveted pastime - besides satisfying his immense ego with speeches - was basking in the glory of that room. Above his throne, the roaring skull of a dragon he had slain to prove his worthiness as king acted as a reminder that his sovereignty could never be questioned.
But on that day, he wasn’t allowed the peace and quiet he deserved.
The soldier had arrived at the gates dehydrated and famished, with eyes maddened by the distant chaos of battle. He spoke of the Order - of their towering undead and ferocious aggression, and of the snow-haired woman who ushered them towards a shared goal of total annihilation. Alberich listened to all of this and more with his head resting against one hand, more concerned with the fact that he was skipping brunch on a weekend just to hold court.
He yawned and gazed towards the chamber’s flank, “Mime.”
“My king.” With practised dignity, a Dwarf clad head-to-toe in steel armour dropped to one knee with enough force to send tremors through the ground.
“Is this madman speaking any sense, or is this some elaborate form of entertainment?” He asked.
“We were able to verify his position at the border.” Came the soldier’s reply, “Furthermore, the thrice-daily reports we receive from the border have ceased. It may be prudent to assume that this soldier’s testimony is the truth.”
Alberich’s eyes flashed with impatient anger, “-And they approached from behind!? I thought I told you to station troops along the western coast after that suspicious letter addressed to the Star-Eater was intercepted!”
“Soldiers were dispatched to observe the coast, but we received no reports of any vessels attempting to skip the border.” He replied, “It may be that the letter was forged after all, considering the Elf was acquitted.”
“Bah!” Alberich blew a mouthful of spit onto the floor, “You should have been prepared for this all along! I want to see the guards at the gates tripled by this time tomorrow morning! Extend the shifts of the foundry workers and reduce their breaks by another 15 minutes! We’re at war - there’s no time to be guzzling ale in the afternoon when there’s work to be done!”
The armoured Dwarf lowered his head, “As you wish.”
An elder brother ought not to have tolerated that kind of tone from his younger sibling, but the dynamic between Alberich and Mime was flipped upside-down compared to the rest of their kin. It couldn’t be denied that the good king was the better warrior, but how much of that strength was chalked up to his faultless invulnerability and recent penchant for enchantment?
On the other hand, Mime represented every virtue becoming of a Dwarf. He was rugged, with a beard long and thick enough to serve as a Redcrown’s nest in a pinch, faultlessly straightforward, powerful, principled, and above all else, uncompromising in his love for the mountains. The question of the decade couldn’t help but linger in the minds of Dwarven scholars: how was it that the younger, impulsive, and greedy Alberich had been crowned king over his brother?
“These milk-supping savages are in dire need of a reminder that the Dwarven Mountains have yet to suffer a defeat!” The monarch in question wagged his plated finger, “By my grace, our enchanted catapults shall rend their flaking army asunder! I want every man, woman, and child prepared to fight for their homeland! Double- no, triple the production of black powder for use in the mines! The vice grip of ‘workplace safety’ has earned us nothing but a loss of opportunity! My great grandfather dived into pools of magma just to save a sliver of iron, while the cowardly workers of this modern age grow tearful if they so much as stub their toe on the job!”
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A rant of such incomparable intensity would have drawn the ire of any sane man, but every guard stationed in the throne room had learned to coexist with the noise like the squawking of a bird in heat. Mime listened to every word with rapt attention, giving a resolute nod as Alberich fell silent before spinning on his heels and stomping towards the entrance.
“Hah…” The tiny king sighed, “I think I deserve a good meal after that! Someone fetch the head chef! I’m in the mood for marinated Direcrown thighs - and tell him not to skimp on the garlic!”
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Raiding the border had been the correct decision for more reasons than simple peace of mind, Lieze realised. The supplies they stocked for the voyage wouldn’t last forever, and the arid plains of the north demanded both a hefty supply of clean water and tents to weather the constant dust storms. Her Portable Home provided a convenient storage space for everything pilfered from the walls without having to burden the Deathguards with extra weight.
By day, they marched the army across the mountainous crests and valleys, killing anything that happened to get in their way and raising the victims to inflate their numbers. By night, they took shelter in the tents, busying themselves with experimentation and strategy, theorising the ideal makeup and route that would guarantee them entry into the distant mountain peaks.
“No matter which direction we attack from, the resistance will be extraordinary.” Lüngen placed both hands on the table, his wrinkled features illuminated by a glowing lantern, “Alberich’s strategy will most likely involve attempting to push us back from the gates, where his siege weapons will be the most effective. If we drag our heels at the beginning, we’ll suffer catastrophic losses.”
“-But once we make our way inside, it will be a different story.” Lieze crossed her arms, “All the more important, then, that we focus on weakening the mountains from within before we strike.”
She examined the maps sprawled out on the table, finding herself overwhelmed by the sheer complexity of the mountains’ innards. No gate had been spared from overpopulation, she assumed. Every last one would be teeming with Dwarves wielding enchanted weapons and manning terrible machines capable of punching holes into her army from several kilometres away.
“Splitting up will only weaken our ability to push through…” She frowned, “We’ll have to rely on a singular charge and hope that the Bonecrawlers will be able to manoeuvre around the foot soldiers stationed at the gate.”
“What about your Golems?”
Drayya asked that question as if the solution to their problem was obvious. It was true that multiple Flesh Golems could draw the Dwarves’ fire away from the army, but Lieze had the economy of her [Heavenly Favours] to consider. She had exactly 4 uses to last her the entire length of the battle, up to and including the final encounter with Alberich. They were her most powerful tools, and as a result, treating them with care was of the utmost importance.
“A single Flesh Golem would draw attention away from the Bonecrawlers…” Lieze pondered the idea, “If they can evade the soldiers and scale the walls, the Dwarves manning the siege weapons will be too occupied with skirmishing to focus on attacking our main force.”
She nodded, “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Well, of course!” Drayya puffed out her chest, “I was the one who came up with it, after all!”
“Lieze.” Lüngen caught her attention, “Once we’ve broken into the mountains, there’s a good possibility that we may be separated. The tunnels are labyrinthine - alien to intruders, but quite familiar to those who have spent their entire lives plumbing the depths. You mustn't allow yourself to be cornered or outnumbered.”
“We’ll take our time slaughtering the Dwarven welcoming party once we’ve eliminated the threat of the siege weapons.” She replied, “-That should reimburse some of the losses we’ll inevitably suffer during the battle. From there, we’ll use the tunnels to our advantage - boxing in residential areas to establish some territory while guaranteeing a buffer of Gravewalkers, should we need them.”
She placed the tip of her finger against a winding pathway separate from the rest, leading straight towards the mountain’s bubbling magma chamber, “This is where most of Alberich’s men will retreat to - the Royal Delve. The next step of our assault will be to force our way through.”
“We are facing down the Dwarven homeland, so expect to see some unorthodox tactics once the scales start tipping in our favour.” Drayya said, “Honestly, I’m not entirely convinced that ballistae and catapults and whatnot will be the end of it. Our attack plan should have some flexibility to it, just in case.”
Lieze had heard the rumours - that the Dwarves had developed some kind of mastery over lightning, bending the wrath of the heavens to their whims and using it to power their infernal machines. No amount of research or subterfuge would reveal the secrets of those who dwelled beneath the earth. Drayya was exactly right - Lieze had to account for unexpected factors.
She sighed, “If we had all the time in the world, we could strip the entire continent of life and raise an army that no amount of ingenuity could resist.”
“If there is one thing I’ve learned, it is that one is never satisfied with the time they’re given.” Lüngen replied, “If we dally, the Dwarves will mobilise enough weaponry to become impervious. This was the folly of all men who dreamed of piercing into the mountains - allowing the Dwarves time to prepare for an assault.”
“Then we won’t make the same mistake.” Lieze resolved, “It won’t be long now before the mountains come into view. A few days, maybe. I want every thrall in their best condition for this battle.”
The upcoming conflict would be a test of her skills. If she could overcome this one hurdle, there was no question that the road to victory would reveal itself. She would have to trust in the capabilities of her followers, as well as the insofar unrevealed plans of Marché and Roland.