I joined Fitzfazzle and the other mech as we moved into position in front of the infantry. Skeletons and zombies weren’t much of a threat to us, but the ghouls were devious enough to figure out a way to disable our mechs if we gave them enough time. The cavalry rode out to our flanks and formed a wedge formation. They would blast through the enemy line, then the mechs would lead the infantry to relieve the dwarves. Once the encirclement around the dwarves was broken, the beleaguered dwarves would withdraw back to our camp, covered by our fresh troops.

A solid mass of undead had split off from attacking the dwarves and were moving to intercept our force. The cavalry responded by trotting toward the enemy, then breaking into a charge once they were near. Like two hammer blows, the cavalry wedges slammed into the undead.

The horses blasted through the first ranks, and the riders spurred them on, refusing to get tangled up and lose their momentum. After a few moments, the cavalry formations burst out of the undead mob and formed up for another pass. Once more, the cavalry burst through the undead, tearing gaps in their lines just as the mechs and infantry entered range.

Sadly, several riderless horses followed behind the cavalry, their riders having been pulled down off their mounts and swarmed over by undead. Magic missiles, arrows, and crossbow bolts rained down on the undead, breaking up their formation even more. I hit the tattered front ranks of the undead, sweeping my bladed spear through them like a scythe through wheat.

Fitzfazzle and the other mech did the same, and instead of an overwhelming mass of the undead, our infantry was able to cut them down in small dribs and drabs. The infantry was making good progress, and the cavalry kept their flanks clear. From my vantage point, I could see the dwarven defenders trying to hold off the undead.

It seemed strange to me that the dwarves rallying to their leader’s banner hadn’t tried to break out and link up with our army. Instead, they just held the shield wall they had formed and made halfhearted swipes at the undead with their axes. I didn’t know how long their battle had been raging for, but there was a good chance that the dwarves were on their last legs and running out of steam from the constant fighting.

The dwarves looked heavily armed and armored, wearing chainmail, and carrying round steel shields. A full-face helm protected their heads and each of them used a battle axe as their primary weapon. I couldn’t see any archers, their force consisted almost entirely of infantry. A ring of fallen undead circled the dwarves, almost making a sort of short wall from the mass of bodies. Sadly, more than a few dwarves were sprinkled in amongst the fallen undead.

There were also two smaller pockets of defenders, but as I stomped and slashed my may through the undead ranks, the smaller pockets were overrun. My focus was shifted away from the overall battle and back to my personal slice of the war when two ghouls leaped from the ground and began to scale my mech. I could hear their claws screeching across the armor as they sought out weak points and a way to get at me directly.

Magic missiles from the other mechs swept the ghouls off me, and I returned the favor when ghouls tried a similar stunt with the other two mechs. One final stomp and a sweep of my spear revealed that I had fought my way through the undead counterattack. Only the undead directly encircling the dwarves stood in my way. More undead were streaming toward us, the ones that had just finished off the other pockets of resistance, so we had to work fast or be overrun.

Lord Braithwaite then charged past my mech, leading his heavily armored knights as they assaulted the ring of undead. Behind me, the infantry was making good progress in their fight, assisted by the occasional charge from the cavalry. I picked up my pace to try and help support the human knights while Fitzfazzle and the other mech kept pace with the infantry.

The other cavalry charge had been impressive, but the knights were on a whole other level. Their horses, nearly as heavily armored as the men riding them, stomped through the ring of undead like they were made of paper. I think the horses might have killed almost as many undead as the riders did. As they pierced through the ring of undead, the dwarves opened their formation, allowing the riders inside.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

I stayed outside the ring of undead, content to pelt targets with magic missiles and carve through their ranks with my spear. If I could keep the numbers of undead thinned out here, the dwarves would have a much better chance of making a breakout. The undead that had defeated the smaller pockets of dwarven defenders were closing in, so if the dwarves were going to make a break for it, they needed to do so soon.

Lord Braithwaite and the war priest dismounted to greet the dwarven leader, King Redstone, who was standing in the center of the formation holding their banner in one hand, and a gleaming battle axe in the other. The dwarven king let the banner of his people drop as Braithwaite reached out to shake his hand. Instead of shaking hands, the dwarven king took a two-handed grip on his axe and swung.

Too shocked at the dwarven king’s actions, Lord Braithwaite could do nothing as the axe slammed home, easily cleaving through Braithwaite’s armor as his arm was severed just below the elbow. I could hear the human lord yell as the pain hit him, his knights reacting quickly to wheel their horses around and stab the dwarven king a dozen times with their lances.

The ring of dwarves holding back the undead turned and began to hack at the knights, pulling them from their horses one by one as the undead flooded through to join the fight. I lost sight of the human lord as the dwarves swarmed over him and the knights. Cries of outrage from the nearby cavalry were heard as they watched their leader, and his best warriors fall. Spurring their mounts, human cavalry, joined by some of the gnomish riders on their rams, started a reckless charge into the combined undead and dwarven ranks.

Like before, the cavalry penetrated through the undead easily enough, but the heavily armored dwarves gave them more trouble, stalling their advance just as they neared the last of the surviving knights. I redoubled my efforts, slashing and blasting through the undead as I tried to help the faltering cavalry charge.

The cavalry was taking horrible losses, but I could see the bloody armored shape of Lord Braithwaite draped across the pommel of one of the horses, the rider spurred his mount as he tried to get the body of their leader away from the dwarven axes and the clawing hands of the undead. Triggering my blunderbuss, I fired a blast to help clear the path for the rider.

A swath of undead were cut down by the fiery stones my weapon unleashed, allowing the rider and a few others to make it out of the ring of death and back to the infantry lines. The other surviving cavalry, about twenty men and a pair of knights, tried to follow behind, but a fresh horror awaited them.

The hundreds of bodies strewn about the dwarven position began to stand and join in the fight, a fresh horde of the undead that had been hidden right under our noses. We had thought the fallen around the dwarven lines were casualties from their defense against the undead, but all the fallen, save for those we had just destroyed, were fully functioning undead just waiting for the command to strike.

Triggering the final two blasts of my blunderbuss, I tried to open a gap for the remaining mounted troops, but even with the damage I was pumping out, the number of enemies was too much. My wands were also running dry, but I kept firing until the last charge was expended. Dwarves and the undead hacked apart the last of the knights and cavalry, and I wasn’t going to be able to save them.

“Rico, fall back, we’re retreating from this cursed place,” Fitzfazzle ordered. I had lost myself in the heat of battle and hadn’t noticed the undead were starting to surround me. The infantry was slowly retreating, keeping up a brisk fire with their ranged weapons as they tried to disengage from the growing numbers of attacking undead that we were facing.

Pushing my mech to its maximum speed I stomped through anyone trying to bar my path and regrouped with the others. Warmaster Glumbleflump kept things organized as our retreat picked up speed. A runner was sent back to inform the camp, and the reinforcements that were already on their way to us, of what had happened.

I maneuvered my mech next to the rider who was carrying the body of Lord Braithwaite. One of the riderless horses had been fetched and Braithwaite’s body was now draped over it. There were only four cavalry troopers and one knight left from the over one hundred that we had started the battle with, and they formed a solemn honor guard for their fallen leader.

“Did the dwarves betray us, or were they already dead?” Warmaster Glumbleflump demanded.

“There was no betrayal, every one of them in the fight had already joined the ranks of the undead,” the rider confirmed.

“The necromancer must have ambushed them and then set this little trap for us, using our allies as bait. He may have done damage to our army, but most of us have survived the day, and we’ll have our vengeance soon enough,” Glumbleflump promised. Looking over the exhausted and distraught forces that marched back to the camp with us, I found it hard to have the same enthusiasm that Glumbleflump was displaying.