“With people, even if they were your sworn enemy who wore your father’s skin as a cape, negotiation always remains a viable option. On the other hand, when dealing with beasts and vermin, there is no such need. The only language those kinds understand is that of violence and death.” - Phakk, son of Thokk, Therian mercenary.
The dwarven army reached Norouz late afternoon the next day. From up close, the sight of the columns of smoke rising from some parts of the city, as well as the ripening corpses being hanged or impaled on the walls showed just how bad the situation in the city was.
Much like Zefirous, Norouz was encircled by tall, thick, sturdy walls, and deep moats, which made the four drawbridges the only avenue of entrance or exit into the city. Unlike Zefirous however, Norouz does not have a standing army that outnumbered the dwarves defending its walls.
When the army drew close to the walls and a herald - with magically amplified voice - demanded the drawbridges be lowered and the city surrendered, it took nearly an hour before a group of rough-shod men and women climbed up to the walls and faced the army.
Their leader, a bald, scarred man who wore fine clothes and excessive amounts of jewelry that made him look more like a parody of a nobleman, stepped forward with a wooden cone in his hand, and gave his reply to the demand as he shouted into it.
“Go lick yer momma’s arses, ya hairy midgets! This city be mine and nobody gonna take it from us!” yelled the man out loud to the raucous cheers of the people behind him.
The reply naturally ticked off quite a few of the dwarves, though the Crown Prince remained calm as he stood with his arms behind his back on his chariot. He turned to the side and looked at Reinhardt, who had Lars and Elfriede with him.
“Is that the man who ruled this city’s… underworld?” asked the Crown Prince, directed at the two Holy Kingdom locals. Comprehensive intelligence on the Holy Kingdom was difficult to find due to how isolated they were, so the dwarves had little to no info on the more local things.
“I’ve never met him personally, but he definitely fits the stories I heard. Cocky, arrogant son of a whore with more ambitions than good sense in the head,” answered Elfriede.
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“His appearance also matched the descriptions I have read. Bald, scarred, loves gaudy clothes… I’d say it’s safe to assume so, Your Highness,” added Lars to the conversation as he gave a polite, nervous bow.
“Hm. Angus. According to the intel, it’s his men that’s busy pillaging and raping in the city, yes?” asked the Crown Prince as he turned to face Graf Harscape to his other side.
“We believe so, sire,” replied the old dwarf as he nodded, “Some districts in the city were putting up a fight, so roughly half the city is under that man’s… ministrations and roughly a third of the rest resists him. Most of the rest… burned.”
“Clearly a vermin then. You know how we deal with their kinds,” said the Crown Prince with a nod after a moment of thought. “Pass my orders. Have a mages build a ramp to the top of the wall, then charge in. Spare no mercy to either that man or his ilk, unless circumstances proved they had some reason to be redeemed.”
“As for that man, I want him alive. Hundred gold reward for whoever delivers him trussed up like a chicken to my feet,” added the man after a moment.
Immediately, the army set out to make the Crown Prince’s orders a reality. As they marched under the laughable amount of arrows the defenders of the city walls fired, the dwarves escorted their mages towards the moat.
There the mages began to wield their craft under the shields of their allies, as some shaped the earth and started to form the ramp. Others hardened the earth to allow it to support the weight of the army about to step foot on it. Yet others formed supporting pillars anchored to the bottom of the moat to stabilize the construction.
In less than fifteen minutes, a massive ramp, as tall as the city walls and easily around four hundred meters wide, took shape and rested flush against the walls, the amount of magic poured in by the mages overwhelming the ancient enchantments on the walls which tried to prevent such works from being made in its vicinity.
Then the army rushed up the ramp. This time they allowed the heavy infantry to rest - they had taken severe losses in the previous battle and were left with barely half their numbers - and instead the rest of the army picked up the slack.
Reinhardt led his crew up the ramp as well. The massive shields of the dozen shieldbearers from Mischka’s people covered their approach and dispersed those foolish enough to stand before them, only to open and allow the strike force behind them to stream out.
As he simply used his bulk and strength, Reinhardt pushed three people off the walls, and let them fall to their deaths below. Others beside him quickly cleared out thugs and other poorly organized defenders, as they made their way to the stairs and filtered down into the city proper.
There was no sign to be seen of the gaudy bald man anywhere, as he had probably hidden himself somewhere safe, so instead, the army that made it in quickly spread out, as most of them systematically took over the city, one block at a time.
Several smaller detachments were sent ahead, to find the enemy leader and clear the path for the rest at the same time. Reinhardt and the Free Lances were amongst these, as they raced their way through the confines of the city in a hunt for their quarry. The soldiers were simply carrying out their tasks. The mercenaries, were after the bounty,
After all, a hundred gold was a princely sum, usually reserved for nobles and the like, and very few mercenary would balk at money being offered.