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Goldenhold
Chapter 10: Fire Versus Water
A bolt slammed into Zeon’s shield. He quickly hid behind it, the shot was almost at his head. He thought that the previous day’s events were the easy ones- the dwarves had been stupid for the most part, it had nothing to do with his ability to command his forces, besides telling them to attack at the proper opportunity.
Sadly, Zeon had to split his forces in four ways, which hurt his head madly. He knew that fighting dwarves was complicated because they didn’t have a night or a day, they simply just fought until they were tired. Zeon was forced to set up shifts- which he disliked. If he was assaulting, he wanted his whole army there, but that choice wasn’t open to him.
The first one was the bucket brigade, the people assigned to carry water to the fortress along with various things from the camp outside. Filling wagons that they had taken along for the siege with water, they’d go to the lake of fire and attempt to turn it to stone by pouring it in. The gap was fifty feet long and they had only gone twenty. The supply master was in charge of this, and Zeon had no doubt that he was good at his job, but the general wished he could hurry.
The second one was obvious. People had to sleep. Rather than setting up camp outside, they chose to set it up directly inside the gates of the fortress. It was more comfortable that way, and more secure.
The third one was trying to storm the tower, which Kyle was in charge of. The dwarves had placed the stairway to it right inside the gatehouse rather than deeper in the heart of the fortress- a design flaw which he initially thought he would take advantage of, but then he realized that it was actually smart based off the history of the fort, which he was reading off the walls when he had the chance. Goblins had stormed the tower many times while riding flying animals, and before they sealed the old path they could simply fly straight into the king’s room, interrupting various balls and celebrations. There were only a few dwarves up there but they were putting up a hell of a fight.
The fourth one, the one that Zeon himself was in charge of was the assault on the lake of fire. Above the gap was a bridge, leading from heaven to hell for all the general knew, and crossbow dwarves were firing down on them. Still, he was surprised at the lack of them. He thought that with the help of the militia that they would have many more, and this made him wonder what was going through the captain’s head.
Perhaps Goldenhold was bigger than he thought, and spreading the message to the whole fort could take days, and organizing the militia would take weeks. But due to Goldenhold’s truly great administration, he doubted this.
Another thought was that the captain perhaps had to split his forces. According to various readings on the walls that the general had read, they had been attacked by beasts long forgotten and dwelling the deeps, and for a moment the general thought he had a stroke of luck. But the chances of that were close to impossible. They hadn’t been attacked in the past five hundred years by a beast like that, and maybe they were all dead.
The last one was the most ridiculous. The captain may have simply underestimated them even after getting shot in the arm along with the stomach, but now that he thought about it, chances were that the guard leader was dead, so there would be a better commander taking his place. Maybe life didn’t change for them, and it was likely that Goldenhold had trade networks underground to other fortresses, so they would just charge them a small fee to be traded through.
Either way, he was happy at the lack of troops. Less of his died, and he was less likely to be shot. But cowering behind that shield, he wasn’t sure about what to do, besides continuing.
The sounds of wheels rolling echoed through the hallway as a brigade of wagons poured in. It was almost routine at this point- as soon as they entered the hall, all of the dwarves would get up and shoot at the wagon. The people pushing the wagon would jump behind it, avoiding the arrows. Then the dwarves would duck to reload, giving the people a chance to push it to the ditch. The defenders would stand up once more, firing down, the invaders would duck into the cover of the wagon. After they poured the water in, as the wagons pulled out, the guards would stand up once more to fire into the backs of Zeon’s forces, and they would hit the shields slung on their backs most of the time, but every once in a while someone died. Then combat returned to its normal cycle.
Now that the wagons were gone, Zeon put up his shield and took out his bow, waiting for a dwarf to pluck their head above the bridge’s silver crenellations. An unfortunate fellow did, and his head was shot through by the unique flash of movement that an arrow always made when it flied through the air.
The obsidian went out further as the water turned to steam, and the lava cooled... which he had noticed. They couldn’t leave the lava out there forever or otherwise the air would cool it, which he had already noticed the effects of. The lava was slowly turning down to cooler shades, and every time they poured water on it the lava held less and less resistance.
Which gave him a thought on how to get across faster. “I only want the archers and a shield man for each of them to be up here! I need everyone else on wagon duty, now! It’s our chance now while the lava is cool!” Apparently the dwarves heard him too, as over the next several minutes they seemed to pull back, one by one... he guessed the bridges led to key tactical points in the fortress for defense, allowing them to run directly to them rather than going through various curves and turns in the hallway, each one magnificent and wasting time for the invaders... however, he looked up and he noticed that there were other ledges in the hallway, all tactically positioned for maximum effectiveness. He even noticed that a few of them watched over the bridge that they were getting shot from right then.
But for a moment he couldn’t help but admire the time but into the hall- it was easily three hundred feet tall, the ceiling engraved with wondrous gems of diamond and sapphire and ruby, and even the various ledges seemed to go in naturally with the designs of the hall, many of them were parts of designs easily the size of a house. The sounds of wheels interrupted him as he had to give orders.
The wagons came up twice more, halfway finishing the pit of lava off. But something told Zeon that this wasn’t a defense, more like a delay meant to give whoever was defending the time to muster the militia and fortifications around whatever lay around the corner. That thought terrified him. The others were still busy on the tower, but he could tell by the unique scream that only a dwarf could make that they were being stormed.
What he needed was a person skilled in the art of stealth to be on the inside of the enemy lines, telling him what they had. He needed it badly. And as he told one of his officers that he needed one, they heard a symphony of trumpets from outside. They weren’t his.
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Topic: The Age of Myth: Goldenhold (A DF Novel Length Story) (Read 110511 times)