Great to see people like it so much! I didn't really expect it to go this long, but I'm having a great time writing it. I do now have a general plot arc I'll probably follow.
Avuz Gearfriend was nothing but a peasant, but she enjoyed her life at Authorgilt. Her husband was a siege operator and spent all day hurling stones into walls, which brought in enough money to support their family. And how she loved her family! Her son had just turned five, and spent his days running about the fortress playing with the other dwarves. Her year-old daughter she carried around with her, and today was no exception. One of the cats had killed a demon rat, and she was heading to the surface to chuck it on the refuse pile.
She took the last steps up the stairway and came out into a cool night air. She looked at the emerald tower to her north; it was getting pretty tall. She then tossed the rat corpse onto the pile and, with a deep breath of fresh air, turned back towards the fortress.
But suddenly, she was on the ground. Her baby was crying. She saw a growing pool of blood, and realized with horror it was her own, bleeding out of her leg, where an iron bolt was firmly lodged. Suddenly the pain of the wound washed over her, and she cried out. She saw menacing green faces approaching her from the darkness, each carrying an iron crossbow.
"Please, don't hurt my baby!" she pleaded.
The closest goblin gave a twisted smile, lowered his crossbow, and fired.
Her cries were heard below, and soon the yells of "Goblins! An ambush! Curse them!" could be heard throughout Authorgilt. A lever was pulled, a bridge raised, and the goblins found they couldn't use the main tunnel to access the fortress.
"No problems!" snarled the leader, a tall swordsman. "According to the reports, this tunnel to the north winds down into the fortress too!"
And so the goblins marched along the northern tunnel, the confident swordsman in the lead. "Foolish dwarves are unprotected! They won't even know what-"
He was cut short, literally. A huge swinging blade had slid out from the wall and bisected him. The goblins behind were alarmed... these traps weren't supposed to be here! They still had another week! It must be a fluke. Several of them charged around their fallen leader, only to have cages drop on them or be impaled by spear-traps. Panicking, the few that remained turned to run, when they heard an angry roar. The soldiers! The dwarven soldiers were charging them! The military wasn't off-duty - their information was all wrong! They tried to flee, but were overtaken quickly by the faster sword- and axe-wielding dwarves, and every last one of them was cut down.
As Ingish decapitated the last of them, Mosus came to survey the site of the tunnel-battle.
"Good job, soldiers. They never saw you coming. Now, let's head to the surface to see if there's any more of them!"
The victorious dwarves climbed the stairs, and suddenly froze. As fell to his knees at the sight, and Slicer's grip tightened on her sword, as she began trembling. Dicer took his helmet off out of respect, and even Ingish grimaced. There lay a dead woman, a peasant, and beside her, a baby, struck down by goblin bolts before it had even learned to walk. None of the dwarves spoke for a long time.
But then they heard something. A muffled complaint sound, some swearing, coming from the north. Looking out through the night, they saw in the valley some torches being lit. By the light they saw that one of the cage traps on the northern ramps had been sprung, by a hidden squad of goblins carrying spears. Those not caged began to climb the ramps and make their way towards the front gate.
There was no need to speak. Glancing at the baby, As stood. Slicer's trembling began full-on shaking, then she began to scream. Dicer put his helmet back on. Ingish raised his axe and began running to the gate, towards the goblins, the rest of the raging soldiers close behind him. These goblins would pay dearly for the poor child's life.
Dawn broke just as they met the goblins, a bit south of the ramps. The dwarves slammed into them like a juggernaut. The goblins, surprised by the fury of the onslaught, could do nothing to save their poor hides.
Goblin shields were cut in half by angry swords, heads were lopped off, and the spears seemed to do nothing but glance off the armor of the near-beserk dwarves. The goblins tried to retreat into the north-eastern hills, but none could outrun the soldiers vengeful fury. As daylight slowly began creeping across the valley, it glinted off the goblins' blood, and no living goblin saw the light of that day.
Mosus sat alone on look-out hill, watching the fight. His plan had worked. There was no real vulnerability, and after that meeting three weeks ago he had worked out a plan with Fixit so that the traps would be in place before the period of "vulnerability" started. The patrols, while off-duty, were still at the ready, so they could be called up at a moment's notice. It had been a trap, and had worked. Whoever had told the goblins to attack was someone in the room with him that day. That was valuable information, to lower the number of possible traitors from a hundred to just over half a dozen. But it had come at a terrible cost.
"So, you had hoped an attack would come all along, in an effort to expose the traitor. A pricey plan indeed, Mosus." It was Lorbam, who had come up behind him while he was thinking. "I pray not all your schemes have such an expense." Together, they looked forlornly at the infant's body below.
Mosus didn't know what the costs of his future schemes might be, and couldn't help but ask himself... Was this truly sensible?
"Well, this is a poor welcome for new nobility." said Lorbam.
"New nobility?" Mosus was surprised. "What do you mean?"
Lorbam pointed on the horizon. The rising sun illuminated a group of migrants approaching, and one of them wore the robes of a count.
"The mountainhomes seem to have declared Authorgilt a County," Lorbam said with a grin. "Life here is about to become very, very different."
END OF PART III
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Topic: The Tale of a Sensible Dwarf (Read 10824 times)