They attacked at noon when the sun was high and not a single cloud was to be spotted in the sky. Maybe, just maybe, they thought that this would make dwarfs wearing heavy armors lost their stamina faster. If yes (if ogres actually possess the ability to get such idea in the first place), then the very idea was nice. Until you would know that you can’t “exhaust” dwarf. You could make them either irritated or bored. If you would irritate one of them, he would die but proof you wrong. He would let go if he would think that case isn’t worth his time.

Now, try convincing them that fighting with dwarfs isn’t worth their time. Exactly. Good luck.

And right now I could clearly see the difference in the quality of fighting. Marching in formation not knowing what to expect, attacking fortified position without machines is one thing, but defending the same position using re-captured ballistas as you were awaiting your enemy…

Ogres stood no chance. Not that it stopped them from trying.

-          “When it comes to stubbornness greenskins and dwarfs are pretty similar, don’t you think?”

I asked watching battlefield from the same place.

-          “I can’t think of anything more insulting than comparing us to those animals.” Ironblood pouted

-          “Ha. Would dwarf stop attacking despite knowing that they would not win?”

-          “Of course! We would retreat, regroup and…”

-          “Attack once again?” I turned from <balcony> to face other generals “… isn’t that exact same thing they are doing? Send hundred people, after suffering losses twenty would retreat, so they would form another raid and charge once again.”

-          “We would make a new plan! Use another strategy! Not just send our people to die like slaughtered pigs…”

-          “I am not comparing your art of war nor cunningness. Just stubbornness.”

I smiled widely. Teasing old clan’s head lately became my new (and only) hobby.

-          “Gentlemen! Please! I know that up until now everything is going… smoothly, but we shouldn’t get distracted and definitely we should not waste time to argue!”

Queen Vakkira called from her chair. Her eyes were darting from battlefield to huge map placed on the table.

Ah, indeed. I lost myself in fun so much that I forgot how she must be feeling right now. She is just elected queen, leading an army and right now she is seeing as her advisors are insulting each another. What can I say? Sucks to be you, Vakkira, but I am definitely not going to stop!

-          “And, could we ask you to convince your… woman, to help our forces bit more on…” she kept talking as her gaze was turned to the other side of the wall

-          “No. Gisele herself is more than eager to join the battle, but I was the one who told her to leave it. I am sorry, but that’s simply a bad idea. She may be great in attacking… but...”

-          “But what? Keep going, Zari.”

Voice of Gisele, which just entered the tent, wasn’t exactly filled with love.

-          “But I can’t imagine you not jumping from the wall right on ogre’s head.”

-          “You are exaggerating! Yes, I tend to… get passionate on battlefields, but I surely know my limits!” I just gave her <that> look

-          “Do whatever you want.” I decided to use reverse psychology here “I am not owning Gisele, nor your army. I am only an advisor. Nothing more… but if you would decide to let her on the frontline…” I tossed a gold coin on the map “… I bet that she will do as I said. Maybe not by jumping off the wall, but opening gates and walking outside?”

-          “V..very well. For now, situation looks to be stable. Miss Gisele, please, be on your guard if the tide of battle would change.”

Ah, in the end, she is a politician. That was a nice way to tell a dragon that she is no longer eager to use her help.

-          “I am not a miss! Just call me Gisele! Sure thing, I will wait for my turn! None of these bastards will enter camp!”

Aaaand Gisele, of course, didn’t notice this subtle hint making the best possible outcome of this conversation.

Meanwhile, city of desert country of Gerwah

Jason opened the door to the Whiskey company building, which was one of the biggest structures in the city, even bigger than most of noble’s mansions and mayor.

How did he manage to get in there within few days despite the fact that it should take weeks? Well, using his skills he sneaked into Gate-temple under the council of mages in Neira, activated it and teleported to its twin-gate in Agrah. Oh, he was sure that he caused quite the uproar in the capital, in the end, guardians of gates witnessed “auto-activation” of teleportation sequences which transported something to another kingdom. Oh, he was caught my guardians of Agrah.

-          “We were not informed of any teleportation planned from Neria.” Archmage in charge said to Jason

-          “Neither was they.”

-          “Pardon me?”

-          “Ok. I am an adventurer and I HAD TO come here to fulfill my part of the quest. I had no choice, ok? Time is running out. I would have to wait for ages before those bastards from the council would let me use gates!”

-          “Oh, I see your point. But, you see, gates could allow transporting armies on the territory of another kingdom. This is why bureaucracy is that important. Normally, we would shut the gates from our side and you would be trapped in the void. We let you through only because we sensed that you are alone… and because we had that little runic trap prepared.”

-          “Great. Wonderful. Appreciated much. Can I go now?”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Oh. But they didn’t let him go. Not right away. They wasted the whole day to investigate and send a message back. After Jason would return back to Neira he could expect being called by the council. But this is not yet this day.

Today, right now he was marching toward the counter.

-          “How can I help you?”

Pretty secretary behind the table asked. Ah, rich people have nice life, don’t they? Just look at this beautiful building, and look at this beautiful girl. She may be smart, but Jason could bet all money he had (… well, right now he didn’t have many of them, so technically he wouldn’t risk that much) that her brain and inter-personal skills weren’t the only reason why she got this job

-          “S…sir? I was asking if I could help you.”

Whoopsie! He was starring for too long

-          “Sure, child…” because for him, she was still a child “… is mister Alexander is his office?”

-          “I am afraid that he rarely visit this facility and…”

Oh, of course, she would say something like that. Jason doesn’t really look like a businessman, merchant, or anyone worthy wasting time of Mister Alexander. His robes are the cheapest one with marks of being used. His short beard should be cut down a few days ago. In such cases, you would politely show such costumer a door.

-          “Heee? Is that so? Weird. In this letter…” he picked small scroll from inside pocket of his robe “… I was told to come exactly here.”

He put the piece of paper in front of the girl. She gently picked it and started studying.

-          “... I would like to apology for my rudeness, master adventurer, please, let me check if he didn’t come in when I wasn’t looking…”

-          “Come on, girl, I wasn’t born yesterday. You are doing your job, so don’t bow your hand and just ask him if he has time to talk now.”

She nodded with her face red and quickly ran on the higher floor. She returned quickly with reply from her boss

-          “Mister Runner will see you, sir.”

She led him into the main office and shut the door as soon as he walked in letting two gentlemen have their conversation in peace.

-          “So, you are the man that this old rat Jericho decided to send?” there was absolutely no hostility in his voice. Bah! Words <old rat> was said with a small dose of admiration. “To be honest, I was expecting some brute.”

-          “Fear not, sir, I know my job. I managed to live this long only because people kept underestimating my appearance!”

-          “Ha! Is that so?”

-          “Of course! Do you think that I enjoy looking like a hobo? Smelling like a rat? Walking dead-drunk from morning till night? No, good sir, this only part of the cover!”

-          “In that case allow me to help you keeping your identity hidden, a glass of whiskey?”

-          “I am not going to refuse, but only because I don’t want to offend you.” Jason said taking a half-full glass of amber-colored liquid.

-          “I will go straight to the business. We want to release a new brand of alcohol – we already started the production, but as we want to serve only top-quality products, we take our time. Of course, other companies on the market already knew about it in the moment we started production. It’s completely normal thing that we send <spies> to each another to know what our rivals are doing. But I am afraid that they may want to still the recipe. If they would succeed, then they could accelerate production to release it as their own product. I want you to go into our production factory and guard the receipt in the vault AND already produced bottles in the magazine. I pay extra for catching spies. It may be hard for just one man but…”

-          “Mister Alexander Runner, I need to say something. You are a hero. A hero for every adult men out there. Your whiskey is not just an alcohol. It’s liberation. It’s redemption. I would take that job even for free, just to thank you for what you did for me. Despite the fact that we never met, despite the fact that up until now you had no idea I even existed… you helped me to live. You helped me to kill the pain when it was unbearable. You helped me to stop thinking when thoughts were unbearable. And in one of drunk vision I… I was able to met someone who is no longer walking in this world. And I talked with her. And somehow I was able to… to forgive myself. Sir, it doesn’t matter if I am alone. I am ready not to sleep, drink nor eat if it means that I would get this job done. I will protect your secrets, your products and you good name. Because somewhere out there, there are more men like me that are in need of your help… oh, if I would find the spy. You want him alive or dead?”

-          “FOR GODDESSES SAKE! I am not a murderer!”

-          “Very well. Just crippled? If yes – you want me to break his limbs or do something more permanent? Gouge eyes, cut off tongue…”

-          “No! Really, no! just… bring him to me.”

This way negotiations were mostly done.

Back at Red mountains.

Another goblin that almost managed climbing the wall has fallen as halberd stabbed his is his chest. The creature let out a high-pitched shriek before his claws let go. Still, he didn’t die, it wasn’t as peaceful. The blade damaged his lung, he had more or less a minute of agonizing death as he would fight for breath in the dirt.

Yes, war is not beautiful. It is not clean and the only people that are speaking about glory are bards and nobles than never seen the battlefield with their own eyes.

There is no glory in having your shoulder smashed by a hammer, there is no beauty in act of holding your guts as an axe cut your stomach open making your insides to literally fall away. There is only desire to survive.

It is either we or them. Show no mercy, for none will show it to you.

There is no elegance in being covered in blood.

Honor? Ha! Honor is good only in dueling. Dueling of nobles, that is. What is the soldier fighting for? For profit. For vengeance. For satisfaction. Either for a silver coin, or to avenge your brothers, or to have a peaceful idea that if you kill enough of enemies today, your sons and daughters won’t be forced to do the same thing.

Damn it. I am getting philosophical. Apparently, lack of actions is having a negative impact on me. Right now, I was marching with Gisele and two squads of heavy infantry to the gates. Defenders reduced enemy forces more than just enough. We are preparing to finish them with one last push. A few moments ago few squads of goats riders moved away preparing to attack ogres position from the back. Ah, such mobility! They were climbing almost vertical rocks! When we would attack from the side of the gates, riders would cut their escape route. In the end, we don’t want any marauders to disturb us, do we? Even if they wouldn’t attack us directly, they still could push rocks from the higher grounds or set other annoying traps.  This is why we will clean them one and for good.

I climbed on the wall when Gisele took a position in the middle of the first line again. Few hundred goblins were still swarming under the gates supported by few dozen of ogres. Most of the dwarfs with crossbows were shooting at enemy rangers, solider with halberds were pushing climbers off the wall while a dozen of “weapon-less” soldiers were throwing rocks on the heads of those charging at the gate itself.

Once again I look back at the small army that has formed on the side of the camp. Price of Ironblood and Gisele nodded back to me.

The signal to start

I started singing quietly gathering forces. Even I had troubles in hearing words of the chant through the cacophony of wounded, but even those sounds went quiet when first explosions shook the ground.

I was aiming at the ground in front of the gate so the dust would cover the vision of the enemies letting our people to open the gates without greenskin noticing. When the ashes have fallen and revealed the wall again, ogres roared in anger as they were finally able to see enemies they could fight with.

Someone blow the horn and squads in meteoric armors rushed on their enemies.

Same horn was also the signal for the riders hidden on the back of the greenskin to attack.

This battle, as a whole, was won even before it started. We simply knew that not even miracle would help goblins to break into the camp. But now? It was a massacre.

Ogres completely lost to their bloodlust, rushing in they completely forgot about defenders on the walls which impaled their bodies with dozens of bolts. Few huge greenskins fallen before their weapons could even be used.

Riders appeared on the horizon butchering rear guard. In the same tim, I was throwing explosive spells in the middle of their formation, I wasn’t aiming at certain enemies. All I wanted to do was to destroy their formation, no matter how bad it was. Because of that bulldozers could simply charge on swinging their axes left and right, meeting no resistance at all.

Half of the day. The battle that started at noon ended as red sun was slowly traveling down. We were forced to wait another day in this camp. I only hoped that delay wouldn’t cost us dearly.