Leandra tightened her grip on Aether's reins, urging the Pegasus higher into the sky. Her keen elven eyes scanned the expanse below. The goblin encampment sprawled across the landscape like a stain, defiling the land that had once been lush and peaceful. The greens and browns of nature were interrupted by the discordant hues of makeshift tents and wooden palisades.

Siege towers loomed amidst the sea of tents and shacks, monolithic structures of crude metal and dark timber. Leandra's heart sank as she saw goblins fastening formidable siege guns and Saka guns onto the platforms of these nearly completed engines of war. A sudden realization clouded her thoughts, 'A full-scale assault is imminent,' she concluded grimly.

Grimacing, she allowed Aether one last sweeping circle above the encampment. She committed every detail to memory—weapon types, the precise height of the towers, the estimated numbers of goblin forces, even the layout of their command tents. Satisfied she'd gleaned enough intelligence, she signaled to Aether, and they began their descent toward the fortress.

As they approached, lookouts sounded their horns, echoing off the wooden walls. Leandra guided Aether to a graceful landing within the fortress courtyard, where Captain Torvald Firebeard and a cadre of officers had congregated in anticipation of her report.

Dismounting with an agile leap that belied her mounting concern, Leandra approached the assembled military minds. "Captain Firebeard, might I have a moment?"

The burly dwarf, deep in tactical discussion over a sprawl of maps and scrolls, looked up. His bushy eyebrows met briefly in a frown. "What news, Leandra?"

"They're nearly done constructing their siege towers and they've started installing both siege and Saka guns," she reported, her voice infused with a palpable urgency.

Sgt. Iroheart’s eyebrows shot skyward. "That's gravely troubling news. Those weapons could easily shoot projectiles over our walls, potentially revealing—and annihilating—our internal traps and defenses."

Captain Firebeard stroked his fiery red beard, the strands sizzling with his touch as his eyes narrowed in thought. "Our current strategies require an immediate reevaluation. Master Gunnarson, how swiftly can you and the Gunsmith’s Guild modify the guns we've captured?"

Engvyr Gunnarson, the lithe dwarf draped in a soot-stained apron, hesitated before responding. "Under these stringent constraints, perhaps a day if we forego the usual safety protocols—less if we labor through the night. The end result won't win any harvest festivals, but they'll shoot well enough."

"Then you best get started. Time is a commodity in short supply," Firebeard ordered, his voice as firm and unyielding as the fortress walls.

Clearing a space on the table cluttered with maps and plans, Firebeard looked at his officers. "We can't allow those goblins even a glimpse of our interior configurations. We need a ploy to draw them out before those towers are operational. Suggestions?"

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

Murmurs filled the room as officers and strategists debated among themselves, wrestling with the dilemma at hand.

Finally, Garrok cleared his throat, capturing Firebeard's attention. "I have a proposal. It carries substantial risk, but it might be our best shot."

"Let's hear it, Garrok," Firebeard urged, his eyes narrowing in focused attention.

"Do you recall the bait-and-switch tactic the Orcs employed during their raid on the fort?" Garrok's voice carried a note of somber recollection.

A chill settled over everyone; faces turned ashen as heads nodded cautiously. Even Tink, the plucky gnome, visibly flinched at the painful memory. It had been a day of great shame for the fortress, one they had vowed never to repeat.

"Here's my thought: We could borrow a page from that playbook. We send a few rangers with wagons into the woods. They'd make a lot of noise, fire off rounds—make it sound like there's a battle taking place. It should get the goblins' attention and make them uneasy. Then, when the time is right, we have the wagons burst out of the forest, rangers firing behind them as if they're fleeing from something. To any onlooker, they'd seem like a caravan under attack," Garrok elaborated.

Firebeard and the others listened intently, hanging on to every word.

Garrok continued, "The wagons would then race close to the goblin lines, with our rangers taking potshots at them. If all goes according to plan, this would bait the goblins into chasing them. Just as the wagons are about to enter the fort, one would 'break down' at the gate, effectively jamming it open and preventing us from raising the drawbridge."

Murmurs and whispers abound as the implications of Garrok's daring strategy sank in. Captain Firebeard finally broke the silence.

"It's a hell of a gamble," he said, his eyes scanning the faces of his officers, "but it might just work. Prepare the wagons and ready the rangers. Time is of the essence. We set this plan in motion at dusk."

Just as it seemed the matter was settled, Sgt. Ironheart chimed in, "A sound plan, but those looming towers still need addressing."

Enchanter Erevan, an imposing figure with a staff glowing faintly with inner magic, seized the moment. "We’ve amassed enough spell components to cast several fire spells. While the goblins chase after the wagons, a cadre of enchanters can fly overhead to set their precious towers alight."

Before the room could react, Leandra spoke up. "A wise plan, Master Erevan, but may I propose a slight alteration?"

Erevan arched an elegant eyebrow, curious. "Please, go on."

"Multiple fliers in the sky would make us an easy target," she observes. "Instead, a lone enchanter could execute a swift aerial strike, casting a single, devastating firestorm spell. This would catch the goblins off guard and maximize the damage."

Erevan and other observing enchanters digest and contemplate her suggestion.

"Are you volunteering?" Erevan asked, intrigued but wary of the inherent risks.

"I volunteer for this critical mission. Thanks to gifts from my... intended," she adds, raising her hand to reveal two rings on her thumb and forefinger—gifts from Garrok—"my fire spells have been significantly amplified."

All eyes turned toward Garrok. His slack-jawed expression became the focal point of the everyone’s amusement and speculation. Sgt. Ironheart smirked, and a red-faced Tink facepalmed, while nearby enchanters traded giggles and whispers. Erevan's arching eyebrow reached new heights, as if a question had been answered in the most peculiar fashion.

Captain Firebeard, after confirming the assignments for the enchanters and rangers, turned back to the table laden with maps. His fingers drummed on the parchment as if to conjure the ideal tactic. Finally, his eyes flickered up, locking onto the faces of his officers.

"There is one more item in the agenda," he said, "we've been corresponding with Hetman Yaroslav Petrovich and his Human forces. They're encamped just a days' march from here, on the other side of the goblin encampment."

Garrok leaned in, "You're thinking of a pincer movement?"

"Exactly," Firebeard nodded, the corners of his mouth curling into a sly grin. "We've been waiting for the opportune moment to deploy this strategy. If the goblins focus their attack on us, they won't see the Human forces coming from behind."

Sgt. Ironheart's eyes lit up, "Ah, the old hammer and anvil. So, while we pull them toward the fort, the Humans will strike them from the rear?"

Firebeard's grin widened, "You've got it. We just need to make sure the goblins are committed to their attack on us before the Humans move in. I'll dispatch a messenger to Hetman Petrovich at once. "

Leandra felt a wave of relief wash over her. The plan was coming together, layer by layer, each piece adding to a complex puzzle that might just save them all.

"Then it's settled," Firebeard concluded, suppressing his own chuckle. "We proceed on both fronts. Time is not on our side. To your stations, everyone!"

And as the room dispersed, each individual grappling with the weight of the coming conflict, Leandra couldn't shake the feeling that their fates had been sealed, for better or worse.