Spring passed by quietly, the days growing warmer and lighter, until the near-endless days of summer shone upon the glacier.
With the summer months would come the caravans of merchants, lured to this frigid place by the promise of dwarven craftsmanship. On the heels of these merchants often followed raiding parties, drawn by the promise of plunder. This year, Greyaxe and the other commanders of the military had resolved to keep the caravan’s safe. Therefore, squads were being sent out to patrol the most likely routes in.
Once again, the soldiers stood at the front gate while Greyaxe issued orders.
“Runeblade, you and your squad are to patrol the Eastern routes. Me and mine will guard the East. I want our two squads to meet up near the sand pits to help guard the north. Voidspike, I want you on the southern edge of our territory. Diamondblade, you and your squad will patrol around the walls while Voidheart, Shadowforce, and Lazyhammer will stay here at the gates. We can’t risk a raiding party sneaking in while we’re off on patrol.”
“Merchant wagons incoming, sir!” Shouted Goldbolt from the tower. “Looks like humans, coming in from the nor’east!”
“Fissures, they got here early this year. Ok, Runeblade, get your squad up there! Voidspike, get moving to the south. My squad, to the East!” He waved his axe above his head and started marching.
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A short time later, a shout could be heard from the caravan, and the sharp clang of iron on iron rang out across the ice. Runeblade waved her group on, “Move, move! Looks like we’ve got Sand Raiders attacking the caravan!” As they passed she broke into a jog.
The caravan guards were putting up a good fight, allowing the wagons to pass by them on their way south as they cut off the raider’s attack. In ones and twos the raiders came screaming out of the bushes, axes and knives held high above their heads. Runeblade and her group got to the battle just as the last two caravan guards fell to arrows. A group of archers had positioned themselves among the trees.
“Frostblade, Coralaxe, take out those melee fighters. Snowstorm, Firebolt, we’re taking out those archers!”
The dwarves charged in, leaping over the fallen bodies of guards and raiders to close with their enemies. Frostblade swept his great blade in long arcs, cutting off limbs and slicing bellies. Coralaxe stood beside him, her shield blocking arrows for him. Meanwhile, bolts whistled through the underbrush as Snowstorm and Firebolt fired on the bowman. But while the raider’s arrows fell beside them in the snow, or glanced off of dwarven shields, the defender’s bolts stuck true. In just moments, the last few attackers were either dead or fleeing to the north.
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To the south, however, things were not so easy. Rounding the southeast corner of the fortress walls, Diamondblade and her squad discovered a large group of while-clad raiders creeping through the snow. “RAIDERS!” she cried, short legs already pumping as she charged into them. Her squad followed, warcries ringing out and swords held high.
The raiders answered with a cry of their own, leaping from the snow and facing the dwarven charge with a wall of spears. The two sides met with a resounding crash, spearpoints scraping across shield and mail, while dwarven blades rang against the bronze armor of their foes. On the walls above the marksdwarves fired down, sharp steel bolts punching through armor and flesh alike. As her troops hacked their way through the attackers, Diamondblade heard a scream from the south. There she saw one of the civilians, a mason, running up the road. Behind her was another group of Sand Raiders, this group wielding bows. A few moments later the hapless dwarf fell to the ground, her back riddled with arrows. Voidspike’s group, seeing the attack, veered up from the southeast and bore down on the group of archers, while another group of spear wielding raiders raced in from the west. As she turned back to see how her troops were doing, Diamondblade felt a sharp pain in her throat. Her hand reached up, clawing at the arrow as she tried to breath. Her last sight was of a tall, black clad Sand Raider pulling back another arrow, with more coming around the corner.
As Diamondblade fell, Shimmerblade ripped through the remaining spearmen in front of her. Her two blades dripped red, and the tattered robe she wore under her armor dragged through the bloody snow. Arrows from the raiders whipped around her, but she simply danced between them, now and then knocking one aside with a sword. Before they could get off another volley, the grim swordsdwarf was among them, blades flashing in the thin light. Bolts from the ramparts continued to rain down on the attackers as well, and soon their will broke. Black robes flapping, they rushed away from the battle.
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Meanwhile, Lazyhammer and the other two gate guards fought off the few raiders to make it past the sworddwarves. In ones and twos the raiders would run screaming up to the dwarves, spears held low. Lazyhammer, in the center of the gate, would meet them with his shield while the other two smashed the attackers with their maces. As another raider fell broken to the ground, the defenders saw a tall, blue robed Sand Raider stride arrogantly around the corner. Like all of the raiders, his face was hidden with cloth up to his eyes, but they could sense his disdain for them.
“Bumelinee cesarylihay, babupy!” he called out in his people’s strange tongue. He held an engraved battle axe in his hands, and beneath the robes they could see finely worked bronze mail.
“What’d he say?” Asked Lazyhammer.
“’You have earned your death, dogs’” replied Voidheart “Or something like that. Looks like an important bastard, huh? Let’s knock him down a few pegs!” The broad shouldered dwarf rapped his mace against the dark crystal plate that he wore. “Hey, you! Rat! Yeah! Uh, Ory! Come get some!”
The raiders eyes widened a bit, and then narrowed in fury. He rushed forward, axe swinging a large arc as he bore down on the insolent dwarf. Voidheart swept his shield up and whipped his mace up at the raider’s leg. The tall raider dropped his own shield down, and brought his axe in a wicket backswing that slashed against Lazyhammer’s chain. Crowdediron staggered back and looked down. The armor was nicked, and he felt a bit stunned from the blow, but he seemed unharmed otherwise.
Shadowforce stepped in, bringing his shield up and bashing it against the axeman’s arm, knocking his axe back against his own shield. Voidheart took the opportunity to slam his mace into the raider’s kneecap, shattering the knee and dropping the axeman to his knees. A swift blow from shadowforce sent him sliding across the icy stones to rest in a heap upon the roadway.
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To the south, Voidspike and his squad struggled to take out the advancing spearmen while deadly iron-tipped arrows fell about them. Dawnblade took an arrow to the arm, his shield dropping limply to his side. Two spearmen took advantage of the opening, circling about him. The first’s spear lunged at this throat. With a flick of his writs he brought his blade up, sliding the deadly spearpoint harmlessly to the side. It was not enough, though, as the second spearman plunged his weapon through the gap under his armpit, and into his lungs. The stricken dwarf sunk to the ground, gasping for air, as the spears struck home again.
Parrying an arrow with her shield, Waveblade pushed a dying raider off of her sword with a swift kick. He fell down amongst the other dead and dying raiders lying in the snow at her feet. Seeing Dawnblade go down, she hunkered down beneath her shield and moved cautiously towards the two spearmen. Arrows hissed as they fell into the snow beside her, or cracked as they glanced off of shield or armor. The two spearmen began to circle around her, as they had Dawnblade. Grinning beneath her helmet, she waited until they had spread too far apart to support one another, and then made a quick dash towards the one on her left. His spear snaked out at her, but she slid the point off of her shield and rushed up beside him. Pushing her shield up into his face to block his vew, she jabbed her sword deep into his stomach. “Die, you stinking sand pig!” she snarled as he fell backwards, clutching at the hole in his belly.
Hearing the crunch of snow behind her, the swordsdwarf spun around, just barely getting her shield up in time to block the thrust of the second raider’s spear. She staggered back a bit, and then fell backwards over the dying body of the first spearman. He reached a hand out and grabbed onto her sword arm. “Bumelinee e odajobu” he bubbled. Waveblade struggled to free her arm, but it was too late. Giving a mighty shout the standing spearman plunged his spear down into her unprotected side. Chain links snapped and parted beneath the blow, and the valiant swordsdwarf convulsed as the tip punctured her heart.
The Sand Raider looked down at the forms of the dying dwarf and his squad mate. “Bumelinee, Wolilymaa” he said softly. Then he gasped, the tip of a sword bursting from his chest.
“Bumelinee yourself, murderer.” Said Newmoon, coldly. Turning, she watched as Voidspike finished skewering the last of the archers. A few unarmed Sand Raiders fled off to the south, finding life to be dearer then plunder.
Newmoon bent down next to Waveblade and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry old friend, I guess we won’t be finding you a husband after all.” She sighed and marched over to Voidspike. This day wasn’t going well, not well at all. And she felt in her gut that it was only going to get worse.
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Topic: The Redemption of CrowdedIrons (Read 6087 times)