A Dragon Barges In

Several hundred paces away, the orc riders hurled short spears and drew their bows, loosing arrows at the heavy "tin cans." *Clang! Clang! Clang!* Crisp metallic rings resounded as arrows struck the dwarves' masterwork armor and were instantly deflected. This was the most elite cavalry force of the Mountain Kingdom; even the mountain goats beneath them were clad in thick barding that ordinary arrows could not hope to pierce. The dwarven heavy cavalry made no move to retaliate. They merely gripped their warhammers in grim silence, charging headlong as they waited for close quarters. *Boom—* In an instant, the iron torrent of dwarven heavy cavalry collided and interlocked with the ferocious tide of orc worg riders. "Crush these dwarves!" "Slaughter these tusked mongrels!" To facilitate scouting maneuvers, most of the orc riders wore light leather armor, and some even rode bare-chested. The dwarves, in contrast, were encased in thick iron plate and armed with warhammers, their momentum far outstripping that of the orc cavalry. In that single clash, hundreds of orc riders were pulverized by the leaping goats, their worgs trampled into the dirt beneath iron-shod hooves. Right behind them, the dwarves advanced like an unyielding wall of cast iron, mowing forward relentlessly and crushing every orc rider in their path. "Crush them!" Ed raised his warhammer high and brought it down with all his might. *Boom!* The earth shook violently before the dwarven king. Blood and shredded leather armor flew in all directions as orcs and worgs were flung backward with agonizing howls. "Orcs!" "You've picked the wrong fight! We, the shield dwarves of the Mountain Kingdom—" Ed swung his warhammer again, carving arcs through the air. A powerful tempest suddenly whipped up, churning countless sand and stones into a terrifying sandstorm. "No—" "Help!" "Gruumsh above, what is that?" In moments, hundreds of orcs and worgs surrounding Ed were swept up into the sky by the gale. They howled and flailed helplessly, completely unable to break free of the crushing force. Ragged scraps of leather armor, loose scimitars, and short spears swirled through the sandstorm, slashing into orc flesh at every turn. "Never shall we bow to filthy orcs! Never!" Ed bellowed, violently slamming his warhammer down. Everything suspended in midair—orcs, worgs, and debris—crashed to the earth in unison. Sharp shards of stone rained down like a tempest of falling blades, pinning the surviving orcs to the ground. The dwarven heavy cavalry's offensive was brutally fierce. Like a colossal warhammer, they drove deep into the orc battle lines, tearing a gaping breach right through the center. Yet when all was said and done, the dwarven heavy cavalry numbered only five hundred, while the orcs had nearly ten thousand worg riders alone, to say nothing of hundreds of thousands of auxiliary troops. Before long, the charge of the dwarven heavy cavalry began to slow, and the strides of their goats grew heavy. Dozens of orc riders would swarm around a handful of heavy cavalrymen. Though the dwarves swung their warhammers with desperate fury, they were gradually overwhelmed. No matter how exquisite their equipment or how immense their strength, holding out against ten times their number was an uphill battle. Resounding war horns blew, accompanied by the rising and falling howls of worgs, as orc riders harassed them from multiple directions, dividing and encircling the dwarves across the battlefield. "Filthy tusks... there are just too many of them! Where the hell is the wall of Evindeldan? Damn this grit, I can't see!" A dwarven heavy cavalryman gripped his warhammer, gritting his teeth as he scanned his surroundings. The goat beneath him shifted its hooves in frantic agitation. Worgs sprinted across the sand, circling the isolated dwarf and kicking up blinding clouds of dust until he could only make out darting black silhouettes. Suddenly, a massive dark shadow dropped from above. The dwarf didn't even have time to turn his head. *Slash—* A bloodstained double-headed axe flashed with cold light. The dwarf felt only a chill at his throat before his head spun into the air. The goat beneath him let out a terrified bleat and tried to flee, but the spinning double-headed axe hurled by the orc cleaved it in two at the waist. The goat dragged its severed upper half, screeching in agony on the ground. The cut was remarkably clean, spilling bloody entrails across the earth. "Dwarven heavy cavalry... nothing special." Monk reached out with splayed fingers. The double-headed axe spun back through the air and settled firmly into his grip. The black worg beneath him greedily lapped at the warm blood of the fallen dwarf and goat, letting out a satisfied snarl. *Boom!* Another heavy detonation shook the earth. Monk turned his head toward the sound, his expression darkening. The dwarf king was swinging his warhammer, sending dozens of orc riders plummeting from the air to be mashed into paste by flying boulders, their lives discarded like grass. "Ed Klein, ruler of the Mountain Kingdom, king of the shield dwarves. A troublesome fellow indeed. But..." Monk's voice was low, yet the corners of his mouth crept up into a fanatical grin across his tusked, hideous face. "He is worthy to be my foe. His head will be the finest offering I present to the All-Father." Gruumsh was a deity who delighted in war, forever seeking land for his people, and his followers pursued the All-Father's will. In the orc tongue, there was no word for "peace"—only a guttural curse roughly translating to "temporary cessation of conflict." "Dwarf! I will take your head and sacrifice it to the great All-Father Gruumsh!" Monk laughed madly. Astride the massive black-backed worg, he charged straight toward Ed, crimson light flaring once more from his single eye. Ed had already noticed the approaching orc vanguard. He turned around, his expression turning solemn. As ruler of the Mountain Kingdom, he was well versed in intelligence and knew of orcs favored by the One-Eyed God. *This is... an Eye of Gruumsh.* The dwarven king did not act rashly. Instead, he tightened his grip on his warhammer and took a defensive stance, waiting for his opening. *Awooo—* The worg let out a piercing howl and leaped into the air. From its back, Monk raised his double-headed axe and chopped straight down. Ed calmly tracked the charging orc, thrusting his heavy hammer upward just as the axe blade was about to fall. *Boom!* Debris flew. Sharp spires of rock surged from the ground, impaling the massive worg on the spot and spilling blood and viscera across the earth. The heavy hammer held firm before Ed, clashing against the orc's double-headed axe with a crisp ring. "Dwarf! Your fortress is about to fall! Your kingdom is about to be seized! Your subjects will become our slaves!" Bloody light surged in Monk's single eye as he unleashed a tempest of blows with his giant axe, the bloodstained weapon raining down like a furious storm. "And this time, not even the gods can save you! Such is the might of All-Father Gruumsh!" Veins bulged across Monk's body. His face contorted with savagery, breathing foul, rancid air as he brought down the giant axe with every ounce of his strength. *Clang!* A crisp metallic clang rang out, and a violent shockwave burst outward, nearly whipping up a gale of dust. Yet the steel warhammer stood firm against the strike, and the dwarven king did not yield half a step. "No, you are wrong." Beneath his metal visor, Ed's eyes held only cold resolve. His voice rang out with absolute conviction, clear and unyielding. "Even if we stand alone, even without the protection of the gods, we shield dwarves will drive you back to the north! "This is my vow—to every one of my subjects!" With a furious roar, Ed threw his weight forward and struck squarely against the orc's double-headed axe. An unfathomable surge of power erupted from his stout, compact frame. *Bang!* Caught completely off guard, Monk was hurled backward along with his battleaxe. The crushing force traveled along the haft and into his body, forcing a mouthful of blood from his lips in wretched disarray. Midair, Monk felt a sudden prickle of mortal danger. A vision flashed in his lone eye—an image of an orc skewered by stone spikes. *Not good!* Shock gripped Monk's heart. Relying on his raw physical conditioning, he forcibly twisted his torso mid-flight. Just then, stone spikes erupted from the earth, thrusting straight toward his heart, but his aerial twist caused them to graze past his chest instead. Ed was already on his heels. Raising his warhammer with both hands, he brought it down toward Monk with everything he had. Monk frantically brought his double-headed axe horizontal across his chest, bracing to take the dwarven blow head-on. *Boom!* The ground shook once more, throwing up clouds of dust that swallowed the battlefield and obscured everything from sight. When the haze cleared, a crater nearly ten meters across marked the ground, and in its center, the struggle raged on. Ed pressed down relentlessly with his warhammer, face dark with wrath, as bright yellow radiance spilled from the weapon—the divine might bestowed upon him by the dwarven god! "Filthy orc, monster bred for slaughter, you are not fit to exist in this world!" Monk lay pinned beneath him, gritting his teeth with a contorted expression, dark red blood trickling from his mouth. His rough hands trembled slightly, and the shaft of his double-headed axe was on the verge of warping. "Cough... cough... dwarf..." Suddenly, Monk broke into a grin, raspy words spilling from his throat. "Look upon me!" Ed glanced down instinctively, only to find crimson light flaring again from that clouded single eye. *A trap!* The dwarven king's expression changed drastically. He felt a chaotic, violent power surge from the eye, like a blood-crazed beast poised to devour his sanity. *Buzz—* A sharp ringing assaulted his ears. Before Ed's eyes appeared mountains of corpses and seas of blood, piled high with fallen dwarves and elves. At the peak of that bloody hill stood a towering orc, turning slowly to fix him with a terrifying, baleful gaze from a solitary eye. *Gruumsh!* *It was He-Who-Never-Sleeps, the One-Eyed God Gruumsh!* Even Ed, fearless as he was, trembled violently, crushed by a soul-deep dread that stole the breath from his lungs. That momentary lapse in focus loosened his grip, allowing Monk pinned beneath him to find an opening and knock the warhammer aside. "Die!" With a savage laugh, Monk swung the axe blade through the air, trailing endless crimson light as it cleaved toward the dwarven king's head. *Clang—* Terror flashed across Monk's face. The helmet passed down through the Mountain Kingdom for thousands of years finally revealed its divine ward. A familiar silhouette manifested before Ed: a broad-chested male dwarf with hair and beard that seemed carved from gray stone, earthen-brown skin, and eyes of silver fire. It was this illusory figure that intercepted the fatal strike for Ed. It was Dumathoin, son of Moradin and patron deity of the shield dwarves! And the armor Ed wore was the ancient treasure handed down through millennia of shield dwarven heritage—Earth's Secret! Yet, having absorbed that lethal blow, a fine hairline fracture now ran across the helmet. Ed snapped back to his senses. He stared in astonishment at his patron deity before turning his gaze upon Monk, furious flames roaring in his eyes. "Filthy orc! "Your wretched tricks are worthless before a dwarf! Go join Gruumsh!" The dwarven king swung his warhammer with explosive fury, driving straight for the orc's heart. But Monk utilized the prescience granted by the Eye of Gruumsh to anticipate his strikes again and again. Ed's heavy hammer hammered down like a cataclysm, and though Monk could not match the dwarf's raw strength, he dodged and parried frantically, locking the fight in a stalemate. With a sharp crack, the orc's double-headed axe finally gave way under the continuous pounding of the warhammer, shattering into flying shards. Seizing the opening, Ed leaped high into the air and brought down his hammer as stone spikes erupted all around, cutting off every path of retreat. *Boom!* The earth shook, and a deafening roar echoed out. Ed's hammer smashed straight through Monk's chest, obliterating the heart that pumped his savage blood. Monk lay flat in the center of the crater, his breath faint as a thread. Yet he uttered not a single scream, despite the horrifying wound that tore open his ruined torso. During that bloody initiation ritual long ago, he had gouged out his own eye without a whimper; now, even with his heart destroyed, no cry escaped his lips. Monk Limb-Cleaver was dying. Ed wrenched his heavy hammer from the ground, staring down into Monk's lone eye, his voice low and heavy. "Orc, this strike was for my people." Though his life was nearly extinguished, Monk suddenly let out a laugh, coughing dryly in the process. "Hahaha... cough, cough... Dwarf, you are strong. But... do you truly think your Mountain Kingdom can win this war?" Ed's expression hardened as he cast an urgent look around the battlefield. Under the relentless siege of orcs blanketing the hills, only a handful of his elite dwarven heavy cavalry remained. Fiercely as they fought, they could not change the tide of battle. Orcs were swarming before the fortress walls once more, raising siege ladders and clambering upward like a sea of ants, gnawing away at the dwarven stronghold. The vanguard had already crested the battlements, locking in brutal melee with the defending dwarven guards. So that had been Monk's plan all along! He had traded his life to pin down the mighty Lord of the Mountain, buying time for the orc horde to press the assault. "No, no... Evindeldan will never fall!" Ed's face drained of color. Sweat beaded on his brow as he muttered under his breath. "I shall... achieve eternal life in the All-Father's realm! And you, dwarf... you and your subjects shall be slaves to the orcs for all eternity!" Behind him, Monk offered a mocking sneer, wheezing out his final words before his breath faded away entirely. Ed grit his teeth and raised his warhammer. Surrounding rubble coalesced into giant boulders, floating suspended in midair. There was still a chance! As long as he fought with everything he had, he could turn the tide and crush the orc army! "Prostrate yourself before He-Who-Never-Sleeps... tremble in fear..." Just then, low, raspy chants rose as several orc shamans encircled him, reciting curses in unison. Thick black mist seeped from their pale bone staves, weaving into dozens of chains that coiled tightly around Ed at the center, locking him in place. "Gruumsh again..." Drenched in sweat, Ed shuddered as the dread visage of Gruumsh formed before his eyes once more, terrifyingly vivid. The dwarven king bit down so hard his teeth nearly cracked, blood trickling from his lips as he struggled to maintain his sanity. "Moradin... is the thousand-year foundation of the Mountain Kingdom, the ten-thousand-year glory of the shield dwarves, truly destined to end with me?" Dark clouds choked the sky, blotting out the sun as horrific visions continued to flash before him. In the distance, more and more orcs poured onto the walls, and the dwarven guards fell one after another. Even Ed, whose will was tempered like steel, felt a creeping despair take root. Who was left to save them? Right then, a resounding roar echoed from beyond the horizon, rolling across the mountain ranges and instantly drowning out the din of war. *Roaaar—* Across the battlefield, orcs and dwarves alike looked up toward the horizon, where an enormous, gleaming gold dragon appeared against the sky. The great beast beat its wings with a distinctive undulating motion, gliding through the air as if swimming, fire churning within its gaping maw. With a sharp crackle, brilliant, blazing flames erupted forth, tearing clean through the gloom that shrouded the sky. Was that... a gold dragon? Gazing upon the sinuous golden titan, Ed's face broke into astonished joy, a spark of hope igniting in his eyes.