The merchant princes of Marienburg may have held malicious and dismissive views of the Eight Peaks Mountain expedition, but there was one thing they had not misjudged.
The expeditionary force was indeed at its most difficult and vulnerable moment.
By the end of October, after three weeks of rest and with their numbers reduced to just over 19,000, the Eight Peaks expedition had opened a path through the underground network of tunnels leading to Eight Peaks Mountain. They launched a sudden assault from deep within the mountains, swiftly overrunning the green-skinned garrison at the Creek Outpost, wiping out over a thousand greenskins.
The fall of the outpost deeply unsettled Skarsnik, the warlord of the Crooked Moon tribe. He quickly mustered all his forces, preparing for war. At first, he tried to retake the outpost, but after losing several thousand troops, the cunning goblin realized that recapturing the outpost would come at a great cost. If he diverted too many troops, he risked losing control of Eight Peaks Mountain itself. So, Skarsnik chose to consolidate his forces.
Now, the Titan's Gate of Eight Peaks Mountain loomed before the expeditionary army.
The gate, made of enormous stone slabs, remained imposing despite years of damage. Skarsnik had fortified it with Grob statues and trolls, sealing the gate and amassing his army for the coming battle against the invaders.
Before the Titan's Gate stood two 60-meter-high statues of the dwarven gods, Grungni and Grimnir, silently watching over the scene.
Even though Skarsnik's army had suffered significant losses at the Battle of Valaya's Gate, the greenskin forces entrenched within Eight Peaks Mountain still numbered close to 100,000. Skarsnik had dispatched 50,000 troops to defend against the Skaven, while another 50,000 remained entrenched outside the Titan's Gate, surrounding the Creek Outpost and monitoring the expeditionary army.
A tense standoff developed between the two forces. Ryan and Belagar attempted several attacks, but the sheer number of greenskins overwhelmed them. Approaching the Titan's Gate resulted in heavy losses, and Belagar's attempts to use the underground tunnels were thwarted by Skaven infestations and Skarsnik's forces guarding key passages.
And so, the two sides were locked in a stalemate, probing each other's defenses.
This standoff continued into early November, just as François' reinforcements reached Seagate Pass.
By now, the weather around Eight Peaks Mountain had grown increasingly cold. Situated over 1,000 meters above sea level, the Titan's Gate and the Creek Outpost were gripped by bone-chilling winds. The harsh climate weighed heavily on the expeditionary force, and Ryan and his commanders were growing anxious.
Old World, World's Edge Mountains, Titan's Gate, Creek Outpost.
The Creek Outpost was a medium-sized fortress built into the mountainside, stretching for several miles and divided into three tiers. Despite the damage from the greenskins and centuries of neglect, the expeditionary forces had managed to repair some of the walls and set up their defenses.
Once a proud symbol of dwarven power, the outpost had been abandoned in the face of the greenskin invasion. Now, the once-thriving Titan's Gate, which had seen countless caravans and dwarven armies pass through, was teeming with greenskins and Skaven.
In the early afternoon, Ryan awoke from a brief nap. He looked over at Veronica, who was still asleep beside him. Gently, he kissed her forehead before getting out of bed.
The modest room they were in had little furniture. A fire crackled in the hearth, and nearby, Olica, the dark elf, stood vigil. She was dressed in her typical black-and-white maid outfit but had donned a thick bearskin cloak over it. Seeing Ryan stir, Olica immediately approached to help him dress. "Master?"
"Is it still snowing?" Ryan asked, cracking the door open slightly. A gust of wind and snow rushed in, prompting him to quickly shut it again to avoid waking Veronica.
"It's been snowing for days. King Belagar says it won't stop until around January," Olica said softly as she helped Ryan into his royal robes and heavy coat. "Master, are you heading out?"
"You don't need to follow me. Stay here and keep an eye on Veronica," Ryan instructed, waving her off.
"Of course, Master," Olica replied sweetly, her eyes gleaming as she nodded.
"Your Majesty!"
"My King!"
"King Ryan!"
The streets of the dwarven-built outpost were orderly and well-constructed. As Ryan walked through, every soldier saluted him with respect. He responded to each with a nod, making his way to the walls that faced the Titan's Gate.
In the distance, the looming form of Eight Peaks Mountain was visible—a sight that tugged at the hearts of Belagar and the Angrund clan.
Thanks to the opening of Valaya's Temple and the use of the dwarven ancestral forges, the expeditionary army had managed to repair their armor and weapons. Many of the Grail Knights, expeditionary knights, and a few hundred kingdom knights had been outfitted with master-crafted runic plate armor and weapons, greatly boosting their combat effectiveness.
Yet, despite these improvements, the army's numbers were still too few. With only 19,000 soldiers left, they were up against nearly 90,000 greenskins and 70,000 Skaven. The sheer size of the enemy forces made Ryan's head ache.
This was a daunting task indeed.
Standing atop the snow-covered walls, Ryan gazed at Eight Peaks Mountain, at a dream within reach, yet defended by innumerable foes and greenskin camps that stretched as far as the eye could see.
Ryan ran his hand along the stone walls of the outpost. These ancient stones had stood for millennia, bearing witness to the rise and fall of dwarven kingdoms. Brushing the snow off the wall, he felt the cold stone and the weight of history beneath his fingertips.
"I've dreamed of this moment many times, Brother Ryan," Belagar's voice called out from behind. The King of Eight Peaks joined Ryan on the wall, staring out toward the mountain. "I've dreamt of the dwarven golden age returning, of the Titan's Gate reopening, with caravans and travelers once again flowing in and out, laden with gold and treasures. I've heard the whispers of my ancestors in my dreams, telling me of past glories, of the Angrund clan's greatness."
"We're just one step away now," Ryan nodded. "But it's the hardest step."
"We will prevail," Belagar said, knowing that words would no longer suffice. He gazed at the Titan's Gate. "Skarsnik is cunning. He won't give us a chance to engage him in open battle."
"Skarsnik is cautious. We haven't been able to lure him out for a proper fight," Ryan agreed, picking up a handful of snow and throwing it. "If we can't draw him out soon, we'll have to proceed with the original plan. Our supplies are nearly gone; we can't wait any longer."
"François' forces have reached Seagate Pass, correct?" Belagar asked, his tone grim. Eight Peaks Mountain was notorious for its near-impenetrable defenses, and now, with the expeditionary army lacking artillery and ammunition, they had to rely heavily on bows and crossbows.
"Yes, they've arrived at Karak Kadrin. But it's a small force. We can't expect François' army to march directly to the front line," Ryan frowned. It had taken them months to travel from Seagate Pass to Eight Peaks Mountain. Even though they had cleared a path, allowing François to march without fear of ambushes, it was unrealistic to expect his reinforcements to arrive immediately.
Speaking of François, Ryan had heard some amusing news from the Lady of the Lake.
"François' army has arrived, and he's putting on quite a show," Ryan said as he swept the snow from his coat. Snowflakes landed on his hair as he spoke to Belagar. "He only has 3,000 men, but the intelligence Skarsnik is receiving surely says that an army of thousands has arrived at Seagate Pass, and more are coming."
"How's he managing that? Magic?" Belagar asked, curious. He swung his hammer idly as he continued. "Ryan, greenskins only believe what they see with their own eyes, especially Skarsnik. Tricking him with such methods won't be easy."
"We aren't tricking him," Ryan grinned mischievously. "François and Beornov coordinated the show. When François arrived at Seagate Pass, his knights made a grand entrance into Karak Kadrin, with banners flying high, displaying the crests of numerous dukes and the Grail. François even rode his pegasus, swooping down dramatically to strike any foe that dared appear, showcasing his power."
"After reaching Karak Kadrin, the knights slipped out through secret tunnels built by the dwarves. The next day, they marched out of Seagate Pass once again, with all the pomp and circumstance of a large army heading to the front," Ryan chuckled. "This charade has been going on for days now. Can you guess what Skarsnik's scouts are reporting?"
"Ho ho ho, they must be telling him that an endless army of knights has arrived!" Belagar laughed, catching on to Ryan's scheme. "Thousands upon thousands of armored warriors, with more arriving by the day. Skarsnik must be in a panic, torn between two fronts! I know Skarsnik well—cunning though he may be, even he can
't figure out how to handle this. He's likely caught between fighting us and fending off François' 'reinforcements!'"
"Our plan is working," Ryan said, standing on the wall with Belagar. "For days, the greenskins have been harassing the outpost, trying to keep us pinned down. Skarsnik is afraid. He fears we might escape and regroup with François, so he's doing everything he can to keep us here while figuring out how to deal with the supposed reinforcements."
"Ah, so that's why you've been launching attacks these past few days?" Belagar said, impressed. "Brother Ryan, I must say, you've handled it brilliantly! The greenskins suffered heavy losses, and you seized the opportunity."
"That's just part of it. More importantly, we needed to prevent Skarsnik from sending troops to attack François' reinforcements. After all, François only has about 5,000 men, even with the troops at Karak Kadrin," Ryan explained with a smile.
"Ha! After those attacks, Skarsnik and his troops won't dare make a move!" Belagar nodded approvingly. "Well done, Brother Ryan. Now, we just need to focus on how to win the final battle."
"The plan is solid," Ryan agreed, though he glanced back at the outpost's campfires with some concern. "But we must hope nothing unexpected happens."
"We need to take Eight Peaks Mountain within two weeks. Our supplies are nearly gone," Belagar sighed. "Valaya provided us with everything—except food. Only by taking Eight Peaks Mountain can we open the underground routes to Iron Peak or even Karak Varn and secure food supplies. That's what Valaya told me."
"She should've given you an army too," Ryan joked. "She should've left several companies of longbeards and hammerers sleeping in the temple, ready to help you retake Eight Peaks Mountain."
"Hahaha, Brother Ryan, don't joke about Valaya," Belagar said, stroking his white beard. "Never underestimate her power. She's no weaker than your Lady. Your Lady gives her followers the Grail, and Valaya has her own blessings to bestow."
"Good," Ryan said as they bumped fists in agreement. "Let's make the final preparations!"
Ryan descended from the wall and began inspecting the camp. The outpost's defenses facing Eight Peaks Mountain were heavily fortified, while the exit leading to Iron Peak had been abandoned long ago. It was unlikely any enemies would approach from there, so Ryan had placed Durant and his Independent Regiment on guard duty. For nearly two weeks, there had been no signs of enemy activity.
After a brief inspection, Ryan returned to his quarters, where Veronica had just woken up. The Amber Witch looked exhausted. She had joined Ryan in the recent raids against the greenskins, expending a great deal of magic. Now, with the snow affecting her power reserves and spellcasting environment, she seemed more drained than usual. When Ryan entered, he quickly closed the door to keep the cold out. He saw Veronica sitting by the fire, sipping coffee, and pulled her close.
"Awake already? You could rest a bit longer," he said as he sat beside her.
"I've slept enough," Veronica teased, leaning into his shoulder. "So, my great knight, my mighty king, have you figured out how we'll win this fight? Sticking to the original plan?"
"It depends on whether Skarsnik takes the bait and comes out to fight," Ryan replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "We'll still need your and Olica's magic when the time comes."
"I'm ready whenever you are, Master," Olica said sweetly, standing nearby. "Leave the magic to me, Master."
"By the way, Durant came by earlier," Veronica said after a few minutes of enjoying the warmth. "He had something to say but left when he couldn't find you. Maybe you should check in with him?"
"I'll go now," Ryan replied.
Ten minutes later, at the eastern wall of the Creek Outpost, in the Independent Regiment's camp.
"My King, we need more medicine and winter clothing," Durant complained as he accompanied Ryan on an inspection of the camp. "And the food supplies are almost gone. At this rate, we won't last the winter. You can't expect the soldiers to fight on empty stomachs. Are there any other supply sources we can rely on?"
"Do what you can, Durant. The battle is coming soon," Ryan said after surveying the soldiers huddled around fires, trying to keep warm.
"Alright," Durant said, though he didn't sound too optimistic.
As Ryan moved through the intricate network of buildings, they eventually reached the eastern wall.
The doorways, typical of dwarven architecture, were tall but narrow, just wide enough for one person to pass through at a time. Ryan turned to Durant as they approached the door. "Any activity here recently?"
"Nothing to report, my King," Durant said proudly, following behind Ryan. "With me and my regiment guarding this place, nothing can get in."
As Ryan stepped outside the door, he was about to respond, but the sight before him rendered him speechless. The words caught in his throat as he stared at the massive formation in front of him. Finally, he nodded with calm acceptance.
"Indeed... nothing 'human' can get in..."
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