It’s the fourteenth day. The undead have been assaulting the dwarven army every night on their march. Every time the undead horde is driven back. Suffering heavy losses, but they always return with their ranks full. The fatigue is starting to show on the dwarven army. Not making much progress during their march as they stop for frequent breaks.

Day sixteen, and the dwarves are almost at a standstill. The undead forces heckling then even during the day. Even the cheering that used to accompany every battle has died down.

Day seventeen. There has been a shift in battle. For the first time, the dwarven army has suffered casualties. Giant skeletons and hulking corpses have appeared. Hurling their smaller brethren past the walls. Occasionally a spectre also slips past under the cover of night, dragging their victims off their stony perches.

Day eighteen. Things look bleak for the dwarves. They lack rest, and their casualties serve to swell their enemy’s ranks. Dismay painted on their faces as skeletal dragons have also taken to the sky. The undead dragons drop in and secure a foothold as swarms of undead swarm out of their ribs. It was only through the heroic efforts of a few powerful individuals that they managed to survive that night.

On the nineteenth day we finally arrive at our destination.

The dwarves encircle a giant castle hewn from the black mountain where storm clouds gather. Lightning flashes through them as a deep rumble echoes throughout the mountaintops.

I observe the castle itself. Just at a glance the place looks impregnable. A series of walls made of solid stone surrounds the castle. The black stone dotted with holes where you can spot a brief glimmer of metal as lightning illuminates them.

The only way in seeming to be a bridge that’s already crumbling in places. It seems unguarded, but if you observe closely you can spot wisps of shadows that are thicker than normal.

There are a multitude of caves around the base of the walls, but they teem with glowing eyes dissuading any who would venture in. As well as the fact that I don’t know if they would even lead inside.

“Mace, go find us a route into the castle.” The skeleton next to me starts shaking, but nods nonetheless. I’ve found that it would go to any lengths for me. For what reason, I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter.

Mace rambles off towards one of the closer caves before the dwarves’ encirclement is complete. They don’t give chase as breaking formation for one lowly skeleton could result in dire consequences.

However, I need to get myself in a position to enter the place should Mace successfully find a route in. Perhaps I can pass myself off as a traveling mercenary. I should probably do so soon as the dwarves seem anxious to start the fight.

I get up from my position and angle myself towards the dwarves’ command center. A small fortress they’ve prepared marking the spot.

“Stop right there, and state your business.” A mean-spirited dwarf calls out as I approach. His thick red beard the only thing visible due to his helm. I stand nearly two times his height, but his stocky body and wicked halberd makes him still seem formidable. He points the tip of his weapon at me.

“I’m a passing mercenary. I was on my way to rejoin my company past this mountain range after being aided by the kind people of Carus village.” I lie, my voice steady as I meet his eyes with mine.

“Then be on your way. This here fight’s a personal one. We’ll win it through our strength alone.” He responds as he sets the halberd upright.

No good, huh? As I think of the next course of actions a different voice calls out from above.

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“Don’t be like that Vrim. We could use all the help we can get.” I look up to spot someone familiar. We aren’t acquaintances, but I’ve seen him a couple times as he stands out from the rest. Not in appearance, but in strength.

The dwarf atop the walls is in full plate made of some blueish-green metal. A giant sword made of the same material strapped across his back. His red beard is in two separate braids. A winged helm on his head, the visor raised. He was part of the group that had managed to subjugate the skeletal dragons, playing a big role in destroying any foothold the airborne beasts created.

“But lord Grimvl. Using a soldier who doesn’t even know our signals could lead to disunity. I also can’t bring myself to trust in his strength as well. The great general himself said an army is only as strong as its weakest unit.” The guard retorts, bits of spittle flying out of his mouth to land on his unkempt beard.

“Problem’s solved if I take him into mine, isn’t it?” Grimvl responds, his eyes never leaving me. “Say mercenary. What’s your name?”

My name?

“Alistaire.” A false name is still a name, and this is the only one I’ve known since waking up in that rickety cart.

“The Liberator, eh? I have even higher hopes for ya. Cmon in. Open the gates!” He yells the last bit at some dwarves behind him.

“No need.” I respond. Getting a running start, I leap up, my feet finding purchase on the wall, leaving small cracks as I scale it.

“As strong as its weakest link, eh?” Grimvl says, a low chuckle accompanying the words. I look down to spot Vrim’s slack jaw.

As I stand next to Grimvl, I notice just how much of a monster he is. Standing tall enough to wrap his solid arm around my shoulders.

“Now, let’s go introduce you to my mates, eh?” He says guiding me past the dumbstruck soldiers. We make our way through the throngs of dwarves, more than a few glancing our way.

“Oi Grimvl, who’s that?” Asks a dwarf with particularly long dark brown hair as we enter a tent. The speaker’s voice is husky.

“Ah, Alevia. Interested in this young man here are ya?” Jokes Grimvl. That’s.. a girl? I observe her closely to spot small but unmistakable mounds on her chestplate. She doesn’t sport the full beard that I’ve seen on so many others, a long braided goatee on her face instead.

“You’ve brought another strange thing.” Another voice calls out from a pile of thick armor surprising me. What looked to be giant sheets of metal begin to move as it stands.

“Korv. This here’s our newest member. A full unit is made of four, and since we lost Keev…”

“That weakling was holding us back.” Alevia cuts in.

Korv remains silent, and Grimvl whispers in my ear.

“She’s just being bashful. We value our teammates a lot, and you’re already one of our own.”

“That so..” I respond.

The now familiar drums beat out, signalling the start of war.

“Well, we can get to know each other better after this. For now, let’s go bash some fucking skulls eh?” Grimvl says. The others grab their weapons. Alevia wielding some strange bow, while Korv heaves a giant metal club.

We head atop the walls, and I see the dwarves falling into rank. Golems and metal constructs take the vanguard to protect the siege engines as they advance.

“I don’t spot any magicians.” I say to Grimvl, and he nods before responding.

“It’s no secret that we dwarves aren’t as magically adapt as the other races, but we make do. Once in awhile you do find the odd pyromancer, but they’re more valued smiths than fighters.”

“So, what’s our role in this battle? I’d like to be a part of the vanguard.” I continue.

“Hoh? We’re like of mind. Nothing beats bowling through the enemy with unstoppable force!” Korv cuts in with deep booming laughter.

“Ugh, two meatheads.” Alevia says. Apparently not one to keep crude remarks to herself.

“A bit lightly armored for that, aren’t ya lad?” Grimvl asks, a smirk on his face.

“What need is there for armor when an enemy cannot land a single strike?” I ask rhetorically. Grimvl finds my remark humorous.

“Well, well, you better hope that holds true. Our task is to destroy any of those damn undead dragons that show face. One hit, and you’ll be in trouble.”Grimvl remarks. The beating of the drums stops, apparently the signal for the siege engines to let loose.

A hail of boulders fly through the air, landing against the black walls of the undead fortress. Chips of rock fly off as the first wall collapses.. As if disturbing a bee’s nest, wave after wave of skeletons and zombies come pouring out as a result.

They crash into the golems, being decimated as the giants crush them underfoot. The dwarven line holds strong. The situation unchanging until giant skeletons come lumbering out. The giant skeletons and golems begin hurling nearby rocks at each other, dealing massive damage where they land, but the dwarves still seem to hold the advantage.

My head snaps to my left as I hear something click. The strange bow in Alevia’s hands letting loose a broad arrow as it shoots towards the sky. I follow its path to spot a host of dragons, both made of bones and rotting flesh.

They were probably hidden in the clouds.

“Looks like it’s already our turn.” Grimvl says unsheathing his sword. I look around, my eyes alighting on a small boulder. I hoist it, and throw. It flies through the air and crashes through a skeletal dragon’s wing. Sending it tumbling down into the golems below where it begins wreaking havoc.

“Let’s go!” Grimvl shouts, giving me an approving look.

“Here.” Korv says handing me his iron club. I begin to protest but stop as I see him start hoisting a giant shield twice his size, and half as thick.

We charge off the walls and into the fray.