Several moments had passed since the fierce fighting had subsided, and the scent of battle still hung in the air. As the adrenaline gradually receded from my veins, I found myself and Sgt. Ironheart summoned by Torvald Firebeard, the Captain of the Ranger Expedition.

Captain Firebeard was an imposing figure, his fiery red beard streaked with gray, and his tanned face adorned with scars that spoke of battles fought and won. His piercing green eyes exuded a calm confidence that commanded respect. We approached him with a mixture of anticipation and respect, ready to answer any questions he might have.

First, Captain Firebeard commended Sgt. Ironheart for his decisive leadership during the defense, ensuring the safety of our caravan while the other Rangers pursued the wolf riders. His words were met with a nod of gratitude from the sergeant. Then, the captain turned his attention to me, acknowledging my contribution to the battle and expressing his curiosity about how I had recognized the initial attack as a diversion.

I took a deep breath, my mind reaching back to the teachings of my clan and the stories I had heard during the Great War. "Captain," I began, "during the Great War, the Dwarven clans primarily fought against the Goblin Corsairs who sailed from the west over the great sea. While the Human Kingdoms were engaged in a brutal struggle against the Great Horde of the Orcish Khanates."

I could see a flicker of recognition in the captain's eyes as he listened intently.

"In the Great War," I continued, "the Orcish Horde often employed a tactic known as the 'Feigned retreat.' They would simulate disarray and defeat, luring the enemy into a false sense of confidence. Once the enemy pursued, the Orcs would swiftly pivot and unleash their full might upon them, encircling and flanking them from all sides."

Captain Firebeard nodded, his gaze deepening with understanding. "Ah, yes," he murmured, "I remember those days well."

His voice trailed off, and his eyes seemed distant as memories of the war flooded his thoughts. I sensed a heaviness in his tone, and I knew there were deeper scars etched within him. The captain's mind wandered back to the dark memories of the war, the horrors he had witnessed.

"You see," he began, his voice tinged with a mix of rage and disgust, "male goblins outnumber female goblins by a staggering ratio of 10 to 1. Such a skewed ratio has resulted in a culture where only the most ruthless and cunning rise through the ranks and earn the right to breed. The Goblin Corsairs frequently conduct raids to capture slaves, specifically targeting women and girls from other races to satisfy the breeding needs of their lower classes and the whims of their nobles."

The captain's face contorted with a mixture of sorrow and anger. He understood the implications of such a system, the desperation that fueled their ruthless tactics. These hordes of expendable goblins, known as the 'Disposables,' were sent in waves to overwhelm their enemies. Goblins who distinguished themselves might be given a chance to be promoted.

"I recall a battle to defend my clan's citadel," Captain Firebeard continued, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and sadness. "I stood among the shield wall, holding back wave after wave of goblins. It was there that we witnessed the destructive power of our new siege guns, which cut down the goblins in droves. In their retreat, the goblins managed to capture some of our pistols and powder."

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A shadow of concern passed over Captain Firebeard's eyes. "Rumors have reached my ears that the goblins have managed to reverse engineer our guns and created their own," he admitted. "I fear they may bring forth new tactics and weaponry in the battles to come."

The weight of his words settled upon us, reminding us of the constant evolution of warfare and the need to adapt. The captain thanked both Sgt. Ironheart and me for our brave efforts, expressing his gratitude for our dedication to the defense of the caravan. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he allowed us to leave his tent.

As we walked away, Sgt. Ironheart turned to me, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Garrok," he said, his voice filled with camaraderie, "you've done well. It's about time you asked for that Thunder Pipe you've been eyeing."

I couldn't help but chuckle, knowing that the sergeant was right. I had been longing to study the donderbuis, to understand its intricacies and harness its power. We made our way to the weapon racks, and Captain Firebeard joined us. With a smile, he picked up a pristine thunder pipe and placed it in my waiting hands.

"This is the least I could offer, Master Smith," he said, his voice filled with respect. "May it serve you well in the battles ahead."

With gratitude in my heart, I left the captain's presence, clutching the donderbuis with a sense of purpose. As I walked alongside Sgt. Ironheart, the weight of the weapon in my arms, I couldn't shake off the trepidation that filled the captain's eyes. The future held unknown challenges, and we would need all our strength to adapt and to face them.

An empty clearing lays before us, a vast expanse of open space where I could unleash the true power of the donderbuis. Sgt. Ironheart set up targets at various distances, ensuring that I had ample opportunity to test my skill and accuracy.

With the donderbuis loaded and ready, I took a deep breath, steadying myself for the momentous occasion. I focused my gaze on a distant target, a wooden dummy standing tall and proud. It represented the foes we had faced and those we would encounter in the battles to come.

My finger tightened around the trigger, and with a resounding blast, the donderbuis roared to life. The force of the explosion reverberated through my body, an exhilarating sensation that sent shivers down my spine. The wooden dummy shattered into splinters, obliterated by the thunderous power of the weapon.

Sgt. Ironheart grinned, clapping me on the back. "You've got the touch, Garrok!" he exclaimed. "With that donderbuis in your hands, the enemy won't stand a chance."

But as I surveyed the training ground, strewn with the remnants of shattered targets, a newfound determination settled within me. The donderbuis was not merely a tool of destruction; it was a new weapon to study and learn from. New ideas appear in his inspired mind.

With each subsequent blast, I honed my skills, familiarizing myself with the donderbuis's intricacies. As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow across the training ground, I knew that I had embarked on a new chapter of my journey.

The battles ahead would be fraught with danger and uncertainty, but armed with my guns and the knowledge imparted to me by Captain Firebeard, I will be prepared to face whatever awaited us. The echoes of past conflicts still resonated in our hearts.

As I walked back to our camp, donderbuis in hand, I couldn't help but feel a sense of reverence for those who had come before us, the warriors who had fought and bled for the causes they believed in. The journey was far from over, but with the thunderous power of the donderbuis in my hands and the camaraderie of my new friends, I knew that we had the determination to overcome any challenge. And as I settled into my camp for the night, the trepidation in Captain Firebeard's eyes still lingered in my thoughts. The future may be uncertain, but I vowed to face it head-on.