Thorin Oakenshield sat heavily beside Bard, holding a letter from King James. The news wasn't good.
“The city of Los Saint Neil in the south has also come under attack by the half-orc wolf cavalry. The battlefield has spread to the outskirts of the city,” Thorin said grimly.
Bard sighed, his gaze distant. "So, the orcs are attacking from both the north and south? This conspiracy is stretching our already thin forces even thinner."
Thorin shifted the topic, not wanting to dwell on the grim prospects. “Have the people of Long Lake been evacuated?”
Bard nodded. “Yes, I’ve arranged for them to take refuge in Iruba. I’ll owe you a debt of thanks later, Thorin. The dwarves didn’t have to offer us shelter in this crisis.”
Thorin waved it off. “You’ve done what you can. Dwarin faced the orc vanguard yesterday. It was a stalemate, but I don’t understand why the orcs are holding back. They've stayed north of the Lonely Mountain, but they should be pressing their advantage.”
Bard frowned. “Perhaps the memory of the last war makes them cautious. They fear the Lonely Mountain.”
“Maybe,” Thorin said, though unease gnawed at him. “But I can’t shake the feeling that something worse is coming.”
Just then, Dain, Thorin’s cousin, strode into the hall, his voice booming. “The southern situation isn’t any better than ours, Thorin! Their army is a ragtag bunch!”
Thorin turned to him. “Did you find anything of use in Los Saint Neil?”
“They’ve got an elf army helping them, but the rest of their troops... it’s concerning,” Dain replied with a shake of his head.
“Elves?” Thorin asked, his brow furrowed. “Woodland elves?”
“No, they’re different. Sky-blue hair, strange flags and armor. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Dain said, still puzzled by their appearance.
“Forget about them for now. Our priority is the orc army pressing us here,” Thorin said, focusing on the task at hand. The elf army, though strange, wasn’t their immediate problem.
Stolen novel; please report.
---
Outside Los Saint Neil, the rumble of approaching footsteps filled the air, sending waves of unease through the city. The half-orc army advanced like a dark tide from the south.
“Sound the alarm!” shouted one of the militia guards, panic seizing him as he watched the orc horde approach, seemingly endless in number.
The bell rang out, sharp and clear, shattering the pre-dawn quiet. The entire city stirred into motion as the people rushed to their positions.
“What's happening?” Sir Maple, the knight in charge of the city’s defense, grabbed a fleeing militiaman.
“The orcs... they're here!” the man stammered, terror in his eyes. The sight of the orc horde chilled him to the bone.
“Get a hold of yourself! Are you not a soldier of the kingdom? A child of the wasteland? We are the last line of defense!” Maple’s stern voice snapped the militia out of their fear. His calm command, combined with the sight of their knight standing tall, helped rally the men.
By the time James arrived at the city walls, Maple had restored order. The militia was preparing for the coming battle.
“The orcs are here,” Maple said, pointing toward the advancing army.
“Finally,” James muttered. He glanced at Novia, the battle-hardened warrior by his side. “What’s the plan?”
“The walls of Los Saint Neil are too low. If they reach the top, we’ll be overwhelmed. We can’t afford to lose troops in a prolonged fight with them,” Novia replied, her eyes scanning the horde.
“So we rely on the elf army?” James asked, watching Novia’s calm demeanor.
“Hold Peter and the dragon riders back. They’re our reserve. The elves and their arrows should be enough for now,” Novia said, eyeing the massive trolls mixed into the orc army.
James nodded, trusting Novia’s judgment. “Then you take command.”
---
Across the river in Rapid City, Roland watched the rising smoke from Los Saint Neil. His gut churned with anxiety.
“They’ve come already?” he muttered. Turning, he called to his men. “Carlos! Gather everyone for an urgent meeting!”
As Roland descended from the city walls, his system suddenly chimed, sending a flurry of notifications:
**Main Quest Released: The Second Lonely Mountain War**
*Victory Conditions: Defend Rapid City, prevent more than 50% civilian casualties.*
*Rewards: 500 random troops, 1,000 civilians, 5 additional rewards.*
**Bonus Quests:**
1. *Kill Azog (Reward: 100 Raglan Heavy Cavalry)*
2. *Kill Polge (Reward: 10 El Nino Rangers)*
3. *Ensure no allied forces are destroyed (Reward: 5 Priests).*
**Killing Rewards:**
- *25% of total orc forces: Steel-sword equipped recruitment package*
- *50% of total orc forces: Human Sacred Shield, Elia Er*
- *75% of total orc forces: Second Holy Knight’s Ring, Ring of Mercy.*
Roland groaned as he read through the system’s rewards. “Azog and Polge, eh? Just what I needed. Looks like I’ll be adding some more trophies to my collection,” he muttered to himself, already imagining the cavalry and rangers fighting under his banner.
---
Meanwhile, ten miles from Los Saint Neil, Azog, the pale orc leader, rode his white warg. He surveyed the human defenses with disdain.
“They built a city here?” Azog sneered. “Let the darkness swallow them. Warriors, this is your chance! Drink the blood of the dwarves and crush these humans beneath your feet!”
A guttural roar rose from the 10,000-strong orc army as they surged toward the city.
Back at the walls of Los Saint Neil, Novia stood at the ready, her elf machete gleaming in the morning light.
“Two miles! Release the arrows!” Novia shouted, her voice cutting through the tense air.
The elf archers responded instantly, their bowstrings thrumming as they loosed a barrage of arrows. The arrows soared high into the sky, catching the first rays of dawn before descending like deadly rain upon the orcs.
Azog’s eyes widened as the hail of arrows came crashing down. "Elf shooters!" he growled, knowing the battle had just begun.