Author's Notes: Hey everyone, glad that you liked the last chapter. I hope you like this one too, as always I own nothing.
Karl had been told to be back at the tavern before dawn the next day with all of the gear he would need, food would be provided but he was encouraged to bring his own. As they would be going into the mountains Karl went to the markets and purchased heavy clothing and blankets as well as ropes and other gear. He considered trying to find the Fire College, or whatever it was called, and see if Clare was there. In the end he decided not to. He did want to see her but, in addition to the chance he would be recognize he also found that the thought of seeing her again just to leave was too painful. No, he would see her when he got back.
He rose an hour before dawn, ate a quick breakfast and then took a horse from the stable and went back to the tavern. In the yard in the back Helwig Freitaler and Dilir IronHeart, as well as several other Dwarfs and humans. Freitaler had changed his attire, gone was his fine clothing and in its place he wore a suit of brigandine armor and had a long sword hanging from his belt. IronHeart had also discarded his fine clothing for armor. He was clad in a suit of chain mail and over this he wore a suit of elaborate plate mail and on his head he wore an equally elaborate helmet. For armament he carried a large double-bitted axe which he held over his shoulder with one hand. Around them were about a dozen other men and Dwarfs, the men all had the look of mercenaries about them while the Dwarfs looked like kinsmen of IronHeart.
The only exception to this was a man who stood a little off from the others. He was of medium height and build, clean shaven but with slightly long hair. His attire was curious, being part armor and part robes, the latter of which were gold in color. Even at a distance Karl could smell the magic on the man. So, they had hired a wizard to lend his aid to the expedition, Karl would have to keep his distance. As he approached Freitaler saw him and waved him over.
"You are here, exhalent. You are the last now we can go, the others are waiting for us outside of the city." With that he mounted his own horse, as did the other men, save for two men who were driving a pair of wagons loaded with supplies, the Dwarfs merely started walking. They made their way through the city with people pointing at them and some small boys following behind. These left them as they made their way through the city gates and started down the road. Half an hour or so of traveling they came to a camp where the rest of their party was waiting for them.
There seemed to be about two or three hundred or so of them, a mixture of humans and Dwarves. The Dwarves appeared to be more of IronHeart's kin while the majority of the humans appeared to be more mercenaries. There were some exceptions. Kneeling in a circle were a dozen knights wearing surcoats of white with red hearts wreathed in flame in the center of their chests. In the center of the circle a war priest led them in prayer. The Dwarves were mostly armed and armored like IronHeart and those with him, though some also carried black powder weapons. The only exception was a group of ten Dwarves, these carried crossbows and were armored in armor of boiled leather. As Karl and the others approached the camp a Dwarf came to greet them.
Even at a distance it was clear that this Dwarf was far older than any of the others, his beard was completely white and reached almost to the ground. Despite his age he had an air of toughness about him, like an old and gnarled tree root and the other Dwarves all showed him respect and deference. He wore a breast and back plate and had steel bracers on his wrists, at his belt hung a hammer which was encrusted with runes. As he approached IronHeart bowed to him.
"I see that you have returned Nephew." The old Dwarf said.
"Indeed I have Uncle. Freitaler and I have gathered a few more men and have finished gathering the supplies that we need. We may depart whenever we wish."
"Good." The old Dwarf said; "I have already given the orders for the camp to be broken down. If these manlings can get the lead out we should be on road within the hour."
Karl did not think that was possible but he was mistaken. The men were apparently made up of experienced campaigners who knew how to break down a camp and the Dwarves seemed more like machines than living beings when it came to work and the camp was torn down with a stunning rapidity. The tents and gear were loaded onto a number of wagons pulled by stout ponies. When everything was done the men and Dwarves began to get into formation to march, the men all either rode horses or were on the wagons. Karl had expected that the Dwarves would walk all the way to where they were going as they were too short to ride horses, but instead they began getting into a number of carts. These were very different from the ones which were carrying the supplies, these had walls and roofs, making them more like huts on wheels than carts or wagons. Additionally, the sides, wheels and roofs were all covered in metal plates and there were narrow slits for those within to shoot out while exposing as little of themselves as possible. Once all of the Dwarves were aboard and the men mounted the men were all assigned their positions and a horn was blown and the column moved out.
Karl and several lightly armored men were assigned to ride along the road and keep a lookout for any signs of trouble, Freitaler did not believe that there would be any this close to the capital but he was not willing to take any chances. After them rode the knights with the priest, after them came the armored carts which the Dwarves rode in. Following them was Freitaler with the majority of the riders, these were followed by the supply wagons and a rear guard. On both sides of the column rode parties of riders tasked to guard its flanks.
For the first week or so the journey eastward was without incident, Karl and the others occasionally found signs of highway men or brigands, but these clearly did not want to tangle with such a large and well defended force. They were well supplied and had no need to forage from the countryside and so avoided trouble with any of the nobles whose lands they passed through. They stopped at several towns to obtain supplies but these were always paid for and Freitaler, IronHeart and the other officers kept the men under strict discipline and there were no incidents.
As they continued on; however, they left cities and villages behind for long periods of time and Karl and the other scouts began to see signs that they being watched, Karl also thought he smelled Orks or Beastmen but obviously could say nothing about that. The column continued but were even more cautious and alert. When the column stopped for the night camp would be set up. While some set up the tents others dug a ditch all the way around the camp. After this was dug stakes about three feet long were taken from several of the wagons and were driven into the ground on the inside of the ditch, this work was done by the Dwarves and men who either worked in rotation or were assigned to it as punishment. They also put a number of sentries on guard duty every night.
As the Dwarves kept mostly to themselves Karl spent his time off duty in the evenings with the mercenaries, the knights also seeming to prefer their own company. The three that he was closest to were men who were part of scout force Karl was assigned to. The first was Ziven Lescheva, a Kislevite of about thirty. He was heavily built yet surprisingly agile and had the grace of born horseman. He was armed with a saber and a short, recurved bow. He claimed to have spent his life practically since birth fighting the threat from the North and had come south for a little lite work for fun and profit. Next was Nicolas Delaune from Bretonnia. He was twenty-one with red hair a heavy build. He claimed to have been born to peasant stock, one day the local lord had begun beating him because he had decided that Nicolas was not giving him sufficient deference. Something had snapped within Nicolas and he had seized the man and pulled him from his horse. Not wanting to be hanged for his offence he had taken the man's sword and horse and had then fled to the Empire. The last was a man named Gundolf from Altdorf. He came from a merchant family which also had a history of soldering. His father had wanted him to serve in one of the regiments, an idea which had had little appeal to Gundolf. Instead he had taken to mercenary work, which offered a chance for wealth while meeting the soldering requirement his father felt necessary and sparing him from all the rules and regulations within the State Army.
One night, when all four of them did not have duty, they were sitting around a fire talking. Naturally the talk turned to the treasure that they were seeking. Specifically, how much each of them would receive and what they would do with their share of the money.
"I for one," Lescheva stated; "Am sure we shall be very rich men. Everyone knows the little ones hoard gold like men hoard sins. Once I am rich I shall return to the Mother Land and buy breeding horses and once I have a good sized herd I shall marry a plump and pleasant woman. I shall then spend the rest of my life raising horses, fine sons and plump daughters." The others all chuckled and Lescheva smiled and nodded.
"What about you?" Karl asked Gundolf. The other was silent for a moment before he spoke.
"I suppose I shall return to Altdorf. We all talk as if this were a pleasure walk, but the truth is if it were the Dwarves would have gone back a long time ago. In truth many of us are going to die. I have no interest in gambling my life again and again if I do not have to. If I survive this and the money is as good as they say I am taking my share and going home before my luck runs out." At this Nicolas laughed, a laugh in which the hint of contempt could not be missed.
"You lord types are all the same, life and death struggles are a game to you and when you don't like it anymore you go home to your fine houses and have your servants and paid companions pat you on the hand and tell you over and over how brave you were.
"The rest of us don't have that luxury. I am going to be rich so my children will be rich. I want them to be rich so that one day they can go back to my homeland and the knights and lords who looked at me as if I was dirt will beg for their favors and cash. That will be my revenge, to have me and mine become wealthier than that arrogant lot could ever be and have them looked down on by those they would otherwise kick into the mud. People like you and yours." This last being directed at Gundolf. Gundolf for his part had gone red in the face and was getting to his feet when Lescheva placed a gentle but firm hand on him, holding him down.
"What of you Karl?" He asked, clearly attempting to divert attention; "What will you do with your share of the winnings?"
Karl found he did not know. He wanted to not be dependent on Marx and if this place was as rich as everyone said that it was he would be financially independent. But where was he to put it all? He had no home of his own, he always stayed at inns or at a place Marx provided when he wasn't on missions. Really, he owned nothing but what he had on his back. As he tried to figure out what he would do with his wealth, assuming he got any, a horn sounded.
"The camp is under attack!" Gundolf cried. All four of them rose and raised towards the barrier around the camp.
As they ran they were joined by the other members of the expedition as they too rushed to the barrier. Officers were running about yelling commands and getting men into position to repel any assault on the camp. As they clustered at the barrier the sounds of yelling and the howling of wolves could be heard in the darkness. Nearby one of the crossbow-armed Dwarfs spat in disgust.
"Grobi! Filthy wolf-riding thieves."
"Grobi?" Nicolas asked.
"Goblins you cloth-head!" The Dwarf snapped impatiently at him. "Wolf-riding goblins!" He might have said more but just then the goblins came into the light cast by the torches and campfires.
Karl had only seen goblins once before but he remembered them, small yet cruel, red eyes glowing with malice. They were all mounted on wolves which looked both half-starved and as cruel as their goblin riders. Inside Karl the wolf growled, angry to see its kin the pets of such pitiful creatures. Its thoughts were interrupted when the goblins launched a volley of arrows at the man and Dwarves. Many of the arrows fell harmlessly into the ground and most of the rest thudded harmlessly off of the shields and armor of those within the barricade. Never the less, here and there cries were heard as men fell, dropped by arrows.
For their part the defenders retaliated by losing a volley of their own. Arrows, crossbow bolts and bullets were loosed out into the darkness. From the sound of it the battle was being waged the entire circumference of the camp perimeter. While some of the goblins and their mounts went down to the fusillade, the majority of them proved to be to agile and thundered back into the darkness. At their retreat a number of the men cheered but several of the officers called for them to be quite.
"They haven't given up!" One of them yelled out. "They be back!" He was soon proven to be correct, less than five minutes later the goblins returned.
Again and again the little green devils would appear, lose a volley or two and then disappear into the gloom. Fire from the defenders accounted for some of them but nothing seemed to break them and while the number of those falling to the enemy was small, it was also steady and they could not be replaced. Karl snarled in frustration as he fired again, even with his wolf-eyes he was missing more than he was hitting. Just then the men to his right began to break and run from the barrier. He was about to yell at them to get back to their post when Lescheva caught his eye and shook his head.
"Fear not young Karl, unless I am very much mistaken the bosses are playing a little trick on the green devils." Looking closer, Karl saw what the man was talking about.
While it first appeared that the men and Dwarves were engaged in panicked flight, running about randomly, it was actually an organized movement. Some of them were running to the left, some to the right and some running straight back. The goblins, seeing an opening, surged forward to exploit it. They surged through the gap and completely ignored those to either side of them, choosing instead to focus on those fleeing directly away from them. After a number of them had poured through the gap a horn call sounded.
"Now!" One of the officers yelled.
"Come on!" Gundolf yelled, running after the officer with Karl and the others right behind him. Nor were they the only ones.
All around them men and Dwarves moved to attack the goblins in the flanks and close the breach that had allowed them through. Karl was pleased to at last be able to employ his swords and merrily hacked and slashed at the goblins and their mounts. These had been so intent on getting into the fortifications and pursuing those fleeing directly in front of them that they did not at first realize that they had been flanked. At about the same time that they realized that they had indeed been flanked those that they were chasing reached their objective, a second set of fortifications hastily set up within the perimeter. Their path both forward and backward blocked it dawned on the greenskins that they had been surrounded. They panicked and immediately began trying to cut their way out, losing what little coordination that they had had before. All save for one.
It was slightly larger than the other goblins and certainly meaner looking, as was its wolf. The goblin wore a spiked helmet, on which a skull was impaled. It also wore armor which seemed to consist of numerous bits of metal attached to a leather jerkin. Around its neck it wore a necklace of teeth and several braids of hair. It was armed with a crudely made halberd and a wooden shield. It was waving its weapon about, hissing and shrieking at its companions in an effort to rally them, when Dilir emerged and stood before it.
The Dwarf's axe was bloodied and more blood was smeared on his armor, yet none appeared to be his. Though he was breathing slightly hard, it was clear that he had a lot of fight left in him. He raised his weapon and pointed it at the goblin.
"Face me, Grobi scum and know the wrath of Clan IronHeart!" The creature looked at the Dwarf and the area around him. Seeing that the Dwarf was alone it gave a mocking cry and charged.
The Dwarf seemed rooted to the spot but at the last moment he moved to the side and the wolf's jaws snapped the air where the Dwarf had been a moment ago. Before the wolf could react Dilir swung his axe in an arch which took both of its forelegs off just below the knees. Yet even as it fell the goblin jumped clear of it. It thrust its own weapon at the Dwarf but the Dwarf for his part, seemed to pay the attack scarce attention. The goblin's weapon struck him square in the chest but bounced off without leaving so much as a scratch. As the goblin jumped back, staring at its spear in surprise, Dilir let out a contemptuous snort and lashed out with his axe, literally slicing the creature in two with a single blow.
At the sound of its death cry the other goblins, already panicking, lost any heart for continuing the fight and became focused solely on escaping. Unfortunately for them, while they attacked with the ferocity of desperation, they were no match for the more disciplined humans and Dwarves and only a handful managed to make good their escape, leaving at least thirty dead behind. Diril grabbed the top half of the goblin, walked to the edge of the camp and heaved it into the dark. Though they could not be seen cries of dismay could be heard from the goblins beyond the camp and soon these were replaced by the sounds of them fleeing. Diril spat.
"Grobi, kill their leader and the run like a pack of girly Elves." Though this was heard by few as the camp broke out into cheers as it dawned on them that the threat was over. As the wounded were tended to and a few fires which had broken out dealt with Karl approached Diril.
"Is your armor magic?" The Dwarf gave him an indulgent chuckle.
"You manlings, so quick to see magic everywhere. No, this is Gromril, the rarest and most precious of metals. This armor was worn by my forbears when they defended Karak Bryn, it is only fitting that I wear now when I return to the home of my ancestors." Karl stared at the suit. He had heard tales of the metal and how it was nigh on invisible but he had always thought that they were exaggerations, now he saw that if anything the tales had fallen short.
The goblins gave them no further trouble that night, though the watch was doubled. They did not see the goblins again and indeed they had no further encounters with such a serious threat again, though they did see more things tailing them. At last they drew near to their destination in the World's Edge Mountains. Their first stop was at the base of the mountains. Here there was a second camp set up and waiting for them. It was of a more permeate nature, with a low stone wall and buildings in the place of tents. There were around one hundred Dwarves, including more scouts, were there waiting for them, more Dwarves whose ancestors hailed from Karak Bryn. Here the party was to leave their horses and gather more supplies before pushing on into the mountains and their final destination.
They rested there for several days and then set off, they had left their horses behind and set off into the mountains and all of them now went on foot. The scouts had set off to scour the path ahead and the flanks. Karl had always thought the movements of the Dwarves to be inferior to humans, hindered as they were by their short legs, but once they were in the mountains his opinion changed. The Dwarves seemed quite at home in the rough terrain and moved with an effortless ease that the humans could only envy. Even Lescheva, himself used to a life of rugged living commented on their ability.
"Those little…" here he said something in his native language which Karl could not understand; "They move through these mountains like fish through water." Karl could only nod in agreement and wondered why the Dwarves would ever leave a place where they were clearly so comfortable and come to the Empire, a land where they seemed slightly out of their element, what with everything being too large for them.
They moved for ten days, always moving upwards. The going was rough as it seemed there were no paths or trails and they had to pick their way over rocks while watching for loose stones, which were capable of sending a man tumbling down the way that they had come.
"Blast it all!" Nicolas exclaimed, after he had slipped for about the seventh time. "I thought Dwarves were great builders and that we were heading toward what was once a great city of their people! Surely, they could have made at least a path or something to it!" Unfortunately for Nicolas, his remark was overheard by one of the Dwarves.
"Are all manlings as dense as you boy?! My people made a magnificent road to Karak Bryn, one far finer than any your kind could make! It was made of stones cut perfectly smooth and with a surface as smooth as a pane of glass, half a dozen wagons could travel abreast on it.
"What do you thing travels on it now? The damned grobi who stole it from us!" Think, if you can! What do you think would happen if we were to travel down the old road? We would have to fight every step of the way to the hold! No, we are going in by a secret way, one too cleverly hidden for dumb grobi, or manlings to find on their own." With that the Dwarf stomped off and Nicolas fell silent.
Two days later, as night was falling, Diril called a halt. Karl was nearby and saw what happened, he and the old Dwarf he had called uncle went to a small depression in the rock, it was not deep enough to be called a cave and began to study it. Karl was not sure what they were looking for but at last seemed to find it. The older Dwarf took an object of carved stone and placed it within a small niche and twisted it. There was a click and to Karl's surprise a portion of the rock slid away, revealing an entrance large enough for two men to walk abreast. The Dwarves turned to look at Freitaler, who had come up to stand near them. Diril gave a little bow and smiled at the man."
"Welcome my friend." He said, pride clear in his voice. "Welcome to Karak Bryn."
Author's Notes: Hey everyone, I know still not 7000+, next will be I promise, just wanted to get this out. I do not know if there will be another update till after Christmas so Merry Christmas everyone and please remember to pray for all who need it, including Rev. Hyeon Soo Lim, a Canadian who was sentenced by North Korea to life, Asia Bibi, the Pakistani woman sentenced to death for her faith and all who need it in this world, including the kids forced into the Lord's Army in Africa and Kylie Bush, a young girl who needs a transplant. By and may Jesus bless you.