The fort echoed with the rhythmic clanging of hammers and the hum of bustling activity. Not a stone was left unturned, not a wall left unfortified. But among the most notable improvements were the Saka guns.

The once unwieldy Matchlock Saka guns had undergone a transformation, thanks to the ingenuity of the gunsmiths. With deft hands and sharp eyes, they had converted them to Flintlock, making them more efficient and reliable. Due to their unwieldy size these converted guns have been christened "Wall guns" and had been strategically placed to act as light artillery, their intimidating barrels gleaming in the early morning light.

Dwarves scurried about, securing the Wall guns onto the fort's ramparts, their expressions a mix of anxiety and determination. They understood that these guns would play a crucial role in the coming battle.

Elsewhere, Garrok, Tink, and a few other dedicated engineers had pulled an all-nighter, resulting in the creation of the "Wheelbarrow Guns." These contraptions, resembling large wheelbarrows, were fitted with Saka guns, allowing teams of dwarves and gnomes to easily move and operate them. It was a feat of engineering genius.

However, the gnomes had their own set of tricks. Many could be seen armed with unique crossbows. These weren’t any ordinary crossbows; they boasted a box magazine set atop the flight groove and an added lever mechanism. With each pull of the lever, a new bolt was loaded, and the string was set, ready to be fired. The rapid-firing mechanism had earned them the title of "Gnomish Repeating Crossbows." They would surely rain a storm of bolts upon any invaders.

Outside the fort, small teams of engineers, identifiable by their unique crossbows, worked diligently. Their task was to set up a deadly surprise for the approaching goblins: landmines. With every buried explosive, they increased the fort's defensive perimeter, ensuring that any attempt to rush the fort would come at a heavy price.

Back within the fort, the space behind the main gate had undergone a massive transformation. Gone were any former structures or impediments. In their place, a series of earthen and sandbag redoubts had been erected, forming a bottleneck. This funnel was designed to trap any attackers in a killing field, holding them in a lethal choke point where they would be at the mercy of the fortress's defenders.

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Garrok, wiping sweat from his brow, looked over the preparations with a sense of pride. "We've done all we can," he muttered to Tink, who was inspecting a newly assembled Wheelbarrow Gun.

Tink nodded, oil smudging her cheek, her fingers running over the modified Saka gun. "Yes. Now, it's up to fate and our brothers and sisters to hold the line."

Garrok sighed, "May the gods be with us."

X---X

Dawn's first light painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, an enchanting serenity that was quickly shattered by the sharp cracks of gunfire. In the goblin camp, warriors scrambled, a mix of alarm and excitement in their eyes. Some hastily grabbed their weapons, while others looked around in disbelief, trying to locate the source of the disturbance.

Back at the fort, the atmosphere was tense but controlled. Every defender was at their station, each movement meticulous and purposeful. Weapons were readied, and a symphony of mechanical clicks and clanks echoed as crossbows were strung and guns loaded. Leandra stood poised, her bow in hand, her eyes sharp and focused. Beside her, a team of enchanters worked diligently, arranging an array of spell components before her. Not far from her position, other enchanters sat cross-legged, their lips moving silently as they channeled their energy to ready the fort's protective enchantments.

Garrok, always the steadfast warrior, checked his self-priming rifled carbine, ensuring every part was in place. Tink, her hands deft and sure, made some last-minute adjustments to her SPAG. It was evident from the gleam in her eyes that she was proud of her recent modifications. The smooth-bored barrel that had served her well was now replaced with a rifled one, promising even more precise mayhem.

X---X

Within the lavish pavilion at the heart of the goblin camp, luxurious fabrics draped everywhere, the Kapudan Pasha lay nestled comfortably, lost in dreams induced by the comforting warmth of his slaves. The abrupt entry of a frantic goblin, clad in elaborate robes, disrupted his reprieve.

"Your Excellency! Your Excellency!!!" The goblin’s voice was shrill with urgency.

Roused from his slumber, the Pasha's eyes snapped open, his annoyance evident. "You better have a damned good reason to disturb my rest," he rumbled threateningly, his gaze promising retribution. "Or I will have your head mounted on a pike!"

Visibly trembling, the messenger goblin prostrated himself, his forehead touching the cool floor of the pavilion. "Apologies, your excellency, I beg for your mercy!" he pleaded, his voice quaking. "There are gunshots coming from the woods near the camp. We believe there is a battle nearby."

Muttering a string of obscenities under his breath, the Pasha ordered his slaves to help him dress. As he stepped out of his tent, the growing chaos of the camp met him: commanders shouting orders, goblin warriors gearing up, and scouts rushing out towards the woods. The Pasha’s face hardened, the weight of the upcoming battle heavy on his shoulders. The dawn's battle had just begun.