The rhythmic clash of melodies between the dwarves and the goblins rang throughout the night, each side expressing their resolve through their unique music. As the songs of war echoed around the valley, the two forces continued their preparations for the coming battle. Despite the tension in the air, the melody managed to create an almost surreal calm.
In the heart of the fort, the enchanters gathered. Their conversation was muted compared to the melodies outside, but there was an undercurrent of excitement. Enchanter Erevan led the discussion, walking between the rows of enchanters as he outlined their role in the upcoming battle.
"Our duty is to fortify the walls with enchantments, and to provide support during the battle," he said, waving a hand over a table filled with scrolls and crystals. "We must also be prepared to fight, should the goblins breach the walls."
The enchanters nodded, their expressions grave. The responsibility of their roles was not lost on them, but they were confident in their ability to uphold their duties. Erevan's words only strengthened their determination.
As the enchanters split into smaller groups to discuss their strategies, Leandra found herself examining the rings given to her by Garrok. The rings were heavy and cool, marked with a strange glyph-like pattern she has never seen before. She rolled them between her fingers, allowing herself a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship before slipping them on.
The moment she did, she could feel a magical connection with them. A spark ignited between the rings as they came into contact, making her eyes widen in surprise. She snapped the rings together again, watching as the spark turned into a small flame. A smile spread across her face as she realized the practicality of the gift. These rings could help her in battle.
With her spirits raised, Leandra moved to join the other enchanters. Their duties were heavy, but the defenders of the fort are prepared to give their all to defend it, to face the enemy and emerge victorious.
Meanwhile, in the fort’s smithy, Garrok, Tink and the other smiths were hard at work, preparing the last of the weapons and ammunition for the defenders. The sound of hammering echoed throughout the workshop, punctuated by the rhythmic beat of the war songs outside. Sparks flew as Garrok brought his hammer down on a piece of metal, the glow from the forge painting his face in a warm light.
Despite the impending battle, there was a sense of calm focus amongst the defenders. They took turns to sing along with the music, their voices joining the symphony of defiance that filled the valley. The music, combined with the steady rhythm of their work, created a harmonious atmosphere that was both comforting and empowering.
Outside the fort, the goblins watched as the dwarves continued their musical defiance. The Kapudan Pasha stood silently, observing the fort with a calculating gaze. He seemed unperturbed by the display, his mind focused on the battle to come. He had dealt with defiant enemies before, but he had to admit that the dwarves were unlike any he had encountered. Their music and their spirit was admirable, but he was not deterred. The goblins were prepared, and with the dawn, the real battle would begin.
As the first rays of the morning sun began to illuminate the valley, the dwarves and the goblins stood ready. The music had ceased, replaced by an anticipatory silence. The calm before the storm. The defenders of the fort were prepared, their weapons ready, their enchantments cast, their spirit unyielding.
The battle was about to begin.
X---X
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From the ramparts, Captain Torvald Firebeard can see that the goblins have assembled and are about to launch their first assault. "It seems they'll be sending the big guns first," he observes, as the goblins push several bronze 3-pounder siege guns to the front of the formation. "And those would be the saka guns we’ve heard so much about," Sgt. Ironheart declares as he points at the formation of odd-looking Janizary following behind the siege guns. Torvald pulls out his spyglass to observe the formation; his face turns red in anger, and he grits his teeth. “Hobs!” he snarls in barely controlled fury.
When women from other races are impregnated by goblins, the resulting children are usually goblins; however, sometimes they give birth to Hobgoblins. These are taller and more muscular than regular goblins, raised from birth to fight and loyally serve the Goblin Kingdoms, and are guaranteed a place in the Janizary Core.
The formation comprises of Hobgoblins, standing tall at 1.8 meters (6ft). Boasting robust and muscular physiques, they all carry the infamous saka guns. The gun barrels are short but thick and cylindrical in shape. At 19.6 inches in length, they resemble temple bells hammered into gun barrels. The wooden stock is large enough to be wielded as a two-handed club.
The siege guns are aimed at the fort’s walls, and the artillery captain's commands are given.
"Nöbet Eyle!" (Be ready!) The artillery crew stands ready at their posts and prepares to fire the siege guns.
"Doldur!" (Load!) The goblins load the siege guns.
"Dolduruldu!" (Loaded!) The gunners respond as the siege guns are loaded.
"Nisan Al!" (Take Aim!) The gunners fine-tune the cannon's aim and align it precisely with the walls. “BRACE!!!” Captain Firebeard commands as the defenders brace themselves along the wall while the enchanters place their hands on the wall and channel magic to reinforce the runes.
"Ates!" (Fire!) The Goblin artillery captain commands, and the guns fire. The balls strike the walls but bounce off.
The Pasha is surprised and annoyed at the ineffectiveness of the siege guns. “Have the hobs move forward and give a volley while the siege guns reload,” he commands. The formation of hobgoblins marches forward in front of the siege guns. The first rank of the formation kneels and takes aim, the second rank stands behind them and aims, and the third rank aims over the shoulders of the second rank. “Ates!” the command is given and the saka guns all fire. Most bounce off the fort’s walls, causing the enchanters to falter slightly when the bullets strike. Some bullets shoot over the walls and strike the buildings behind, causing debris to fall on the defenders. The bombardment continues for an hour, alternating between the 3-pounders and the saka gunners, while the enchanters channel their magic whenever the goblins fire their artillery, resting between the shots. The Pasha stoically frowns, noticing that the fort is not firing back the entire time. “It seems we are well outside of their range. Have the hafif top moved closer, but stay out of range of their Tüfenk.”
Sgt. Ironheart observes as the 3-pounders are pushed closer to the walls. “They’re within range of the rifles,” he says with a grin. “I don’t think the Pasha realizes just how far our rifles can shoot.” The captain nods. “Aye, it seems they haven’t noticed that we have siege guns of our own,” he observes. “Wait until they get closer, and have our siege gunners prepare to fire.” The 3-pounders stop just outside the range of the Thundravir guns but are well within the range of the rifles. Once more, the Artillery captain gives the command.
“Ates!” and the siege guns fire. This time, while most of the balls bounce off, dents appear on the walls. Some balls manage to penetrate and become lodged in the walls. Several of the enchanters kneel in exhaustion but continue to channel their magic. The Pasha grins as he sees the damage on the walls. “Have the hobs move forward and destroy those walls,” he commands.
Captain Firebeard sees the Hobs moving into formation in front of the 3-pounders and smiles viciously. “Now! Have the siege guns aim at the rear ranks, rangers shoot the front ranks!” He commands. Sgt. Ironheart nods and gives the commands.
“Khazgorim daz!” (Dwarves ready). As the Hobgoblins move into formation, the Rangers stand from cover and aim their rifles. Meanwhile, at the gun towers, hatches are opened, and siege guns are pushed forward. More siege guns are uncovered on top of the towers and pushed into position.
“Thergel-ath!” (Give Fire). The 6-pounders and rifles all fire on the tightly packed Hobgoblins, blasting them into bloody chunks. Several of the artillery shots bounce and strike the 3-pounders, destroying several of them. “Now! Unleash the guard!!!” Captain Firebeard commands. The gates open, and the drawbridge is released. The Mountain guard comes pouring out like a river of black water, followed by several laborers. They avoid the hidden mines and charge the dazed and confused Hobgoblins, massacring them. The hobgoblins each represent a lost mother, sister, or daughter. Several dwarves are injured in the melee, but their fury is fueled by their grudges against the Hobs. The artillery crews abandon the 3-pounders and run for their lives. The laborers get to work, salvaging any surviving siege guns, ammunition, and powder. They drag them all back to the fort; any guns that were not salvaged are smashed by the mountain guard. After the last Hobgoblin is killed, they salvage any intact saka gun and ammunition from the corpses.
As the Dwarves retreat back into the fort, the Pasha looks on stoically, but inside, he is seething with rage. “A small setback,” he calmly states. “Have the rest of the hafif top prepared. We will continue with the assault tomorrow. The disposables will have to prove their worth.” As he turns to return to his tent, he gives one last command. “And have one member of each surviving gun crew beaten to death by the other members in front of everyone. I will not tolerate cowardice. And have my slaves brought to my tent; I have some stress to relieve.”