Sir Brenzen skidded to a halt, his pace broken by the sound of the invasion alarm. He cursed: investigating the magical pulse would have to wait. He changed directions, heading for the barracks, watching the civilians pour into the fortress walls. The archers raced past, snatching bolts as they went, climbing the stairs to the upper sections of the wall.
"Close the Depot! Ready the gatehouse!" Sir Brenzen yelled, and watched as the nearest civilians ran to pull the appropriate levers. The military was almost fully assembled, just a couple of dwarves still running to their posts. He saw Tarmid climbing the stairs to the archer tower and looked away, concentrating on the task at hand.
The wait seemed interminable. From the archer tower, he could hear shouts and the plinks of crossbow fire, but the doors to the gatehouse prevented him from seeing the effects the bolts were having. He heard the roaring of trolls on the far side of the walls, over by the depot, and a sudden thought struck him. As long as there was a heavily guarded carvan in the depot, which seemed to not want to leave, he may as well put them to use.
"Lower the Depot bridge!"
The closest civilian, a farmer, gave him a sideways glance, but performed the order. A few minutes later, one of the crossbowdwarves clambered down the stairwell. "Sir Brenzen, sir! One of the farmers has left the fortress! He's being chased by a troll!"
Sir Brenzen swore: the civilians knew better than to do something this stupid. He ran up the stairs, nearly bowling over the crossbowdwarf, and sprinted towards the trade depot. He saw the caravan guards hacking at a troll further down, and as he approached one of the axedwarves embedded his axe in the troll's skull. Sir Brenzen raced past, sprinting down the ramps that led to the depot and out of the fortress walls.
He was too late. The troll stood over the farmer, who had clearly bled out from a massive gash in his side. With a cry of rage, Sir Brenzen ran at the troll, and within moments the troll lay on the ground, dead. Breathing heavily, Sir Brenzen returned to the fortress.
The battle was finally over. Sir Brenzen planted his pickaxe in the skull of the last wounded goblin, watching as the last of the swordsgoblins ran over the horizon. Despite his best efforts, two dwarves had been lost today: one of Demongate's most skilled farmers, and one of its last elite marksdwarves. He returned to the barracks and gazed around, looking at what military the fortress had left. The fortress had its champions, yes: Thane, Thanatos, and a few others. He supposed even he could be added to that list. But all of this seeming strength hid an even greater weakness. One large siege, one concerted effort by the goblins, and the fortress would crumble.
A memory of Vlad rose unbidden in Sir Brenzen's mind, of the time when Vlad had taken over control of the military. Although being dismissed as militia commander had wounded his pride, and the knights being moved to other squads had been almost intolerable, that had been the glory day of Demongate's military. What Demongate needed right now was more soldiers, and quickly.
Sir Brenzen watched impassively as the dwarves filed into the room. Some of them clearly remembered the last time that they had been called to a fortress meeting, and Sir Brenzen couldn't blame them for being wary. Behind him stood Thane, Thanatos, and Tun Logenkazud, three of Demongate's militia captains.
Finally, all of the dwarves had arrived. It was a tight fit, squeezing all of the fortress's members into one place, but they were all there.
"Dwarves of Demongate," Sir Brenzen began, "Today is a sad day. We mourn the deaths of two of our number, whom the goblins took from us."
"It is because of this that I have called you here. We have grown complacent, confident in the strength of our military. Meanwhile, one by one, our dwarves are killed off, until someday, maybe soon, there will not be enough of the military left to keep the goblins at bay."
"I will be blunt: we need more soldiers. Our military has been in decline ever since Vlad reworked it. Our squads have grown weaker and weaker, as one by one they are killed by invaders."
"After I am done speaking, I would like all dwarves willing to enter the military to stay in this room. The militia captains will choose from among you who they wish to be in their squads. But this effort will take more than simply refilling our ranks. We need better weapons, better armor, expanded defenses. I have already marked out areas to build our new defenses, and Tarmid has approved the requisite work orders. With your help, we shall all survive, now and in the future. Thank you for your time. You may go."
Alright, so, I guess I'll take the time to explain my plans for the fortress's defense.
I'm planning on expanding and improving the Surface Palisade to force hostiles to subject themselves to ballista and archer fire as they try to approach the fortress. Once they leave the ballista firing range, they will be confronted by the melee squads of the military.
As for the military itself: I plan on filling the ranks of the 1st hammer, 1st sword, 1st axe, 1st crossbow, 1st hellguard, and creating a new squad (the 2nd hellguard) as a group of heavily armored warriors (weapon still undetermined) lead by one of the experienced warriors of the fortress who isn't already a militia commander. Then, we'll have six full squads, plus Sir Brenzen, the lone bowman, and the scribes of St. Zane. Additionally, I'm going to order the construction of a plethora of archery ranges to allow the archers to train while not on siege defense duty. I also plan on setting up a catapult firing range and devoting three or so dwarves to siege operation, so that they can be ready in the event of a siege.
Edit: The wiki is your friend. Update the wiki. There's only so much updating I can do before I simply don't have the knowledge to update any more.
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Topic: Demongate: Wrapping up the Loose Ends. (Read 698935 times)