The Human camp buzzes with activity, as Hetman Petrovich looks on proudly. Due to their successful raids on the Goblin baggage train, they were able to slow down the Goblin advance and salvage enough supplies to stay in the field indefinitely. His face takes on an analytical look as he observes a group of former slaves practicing drills. They had managed to salvage many of the goblins' matchlock guns from the baggage train, enough to arm a company. However, they only had enough hale men from the rescued slaves to raise a platoon of militia. Thankfully with how easy it was to learn using guns; they would only need a few days to train. In order to maximize the potential firepower of the guns the Ataman of the Dragoons, who he placed in charge of training the militia, proposed a novel suggestion. The militia gunners will will fire volleys, while camp followers who are behind them will load and pass guns to the gunners in front. The Hetman hopes that with the time they bought, they would be able to muster a large enough force to strike the goblins from behind and the relieve the fort.

Hetman Petrovich watched the former slaves practicing their drills, impressed by their quick progress. The salvaged Matchlock guns held great potential, and with proper training, they could become a formidable force against the goblins.

Approaching the Ataman, Petrovich nodded approvingly. "Your plan to train the militia gunners and utilize the camp followers is an excellent idea," he commended. "Maintaining a continuous volley of fire will provide us with a significant advantage. We must ensure that they are trained quickly and efficiently."

The Ataman saluted and replied, "Thank you, Hetman. Their progress is promising, the former slaves are motivated and eager to learn."

Petrovich's eyes scanned the camp, his mind already formulating a plan. "We need to expedite their training. I want them ready for action within a few days. Our window of opportunity to strike the goblins from behind and relieve the fort is closing."

The Ataman nodded in agreement. "I understand, Hetman. I will intensify the training regimen and ensure that they become proficient in handling the Matchlock guns."

As the Hetman observed the camp, he spotted an elderly man, his face lined with wisdom and experience. It was Gunther, a renowned gunsmith who they had rescued and joined their cause. Petrovich approached him, his curiosity piqued.

"Gunther, my friend," Petrovich greeted him warmly. "I see you have been hard at work with the Matchlock guns. How are they holding up?"

Gunther adjusted his spectacles and replied, "They are sturdy weapons, Hetman, despite their goblin origins. I have been inspecting and repairing them, ensuring they are in proper working order. With some modifications, we can improve their accuracy and reliability."

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Petrovich smiled appreciatively. "Excellent, Gunther. Your expertise will be invaluable. Make the necessary modifications, and let's ensure that these guns are at their best."

Gunther nodded; His eyes shining with enthusiasm. "I will do my utmost, Hetman. These guns have great potential, and with your permission, I can also train a select group of individuals in their maintenance and repair."

Petrovich considered the suggestion and nodded. "Very well, Gunther We require skilled gunsmiths to maintain our firearms. Train a dedicated group, and they shall be responsible for keeping our weapons in working order."

With the plan in motion and the camp buzzing with purpose, Petrovich felt a renewed sense of determination. The successful raids on the goblin baggage train had given them a fighting chance, and now, with the training of the militia gunners and the expertise of Gunther, they could further tip the scales in their favor.

The Hetman turned his gaze to the horizon, where the goblin forces were amassing. "We must act swiftly," he thought to himself. "The fort and its defenders are counting on us. We shall strike the goblins from behind, unleash a relentless volley of gunfire, and relieve the fort from their grasp."

With each passing day, the camp prepared itself for the decisive battle that would determine the fate of the region. The training intensified, the guns were modified, and the resolve of the troops grew stronger. The time for action was drawing near, and Hetman Petrovich was ready to lead his forces to victory.

x---x

As the preparations at the dwarven fort continued, anticipation filled the air. The success of Garrok's victory against the Orc chieftain had bolstered morale, and the defenders were eager to face the goblins head-on. The gnomes, known for their ingenuity, had devised a surprise for the approaching enemy forces – the Fladdermine.

The Fladdermine, (flying mine), is a clever device that would provide an explosive welcome to the goblins. Clay pots filled with black powder were strategically buried near the surface, activated by either stepping on them or tripping a wire connected to a flintlock mechanism. The detonation of these mines would wreak havoc and devastation among the goblin ranks as they approached the fort.

Meanwhile, the dwarven miners had been hard at work, digging a network of booby-trapped tunnels in preparation for the goblin diggers. These hidden traps would pose a lethal threat to any goblin foolish enough to venture into the tunnels, further ensuring the fort's defenses.

Even one of the enchanters had been preparing. Since they would be limited in their use of magic, Leandra Ironbark, a skilled wood elf enchanter, had been busy with her own preparations. With her tall 2.1-meter (7ft) stature, dusky skin, and dark blonde hair styled in a pixie cut, and a barely concealed well-toned body she stood out among the defenders. Her piercing blue eyes displayed a determined gaze as she meticulously carved and enchanted a bow and several arrows.

Leandra hailed from a family of Elven Smiths and Woodcarvers, renowned for their craftsmanship. Her training in enchanting allowed her to infuse her weapons with magical properties Enhancing their effectiveness in combat. As she completed her work, the bow gleamed with a faint, ethereal glow, a testament to her skill.

Enchanter Erevan, observed Leandra's preparations with admiration. "You've crafted a remarkable weapon, Leandra," he complimented. "But are you sure about this, flying on a Pegasus would make you a tempting target, you can always shoot from the towers."

Leandra smiled. "Thank you for your concern, Erevan. But riding the Pegasus will allow me to rain arrows upon the goblins from above. I’ll be sure to keep myself out of range of their guns. It will give us a tactical advantage and provide a distraction for our enemies."

The dwarves and other defenders gave a small cheer as Leandra mounted one of the Pegasus, her bow slung across her back. She took to the sky, her graceful ride accompanied by the majestic beats of the Pegasus' wings. The sight of an elven archer soaring above the battlefield filled them with hope and determination.