About four horses to the east, Lord Grey and his men could smell a foul odor upon the wind. They had ridden the Eastern Rim for three days, searching for the enemy.

On the first day, they had killed eighteen goblins from the Swamp Crawler Tribe that they had found sleeping in some high brush. It hadn’t been much of a challenge and they suffered no losses.

The following two days of patrolling had been fruitless, although they had seen many goblin tracks heading south. The men had grown restless, speculating that the enemy had all passed by heading south. Lord Grey had swung his patrol back west, and rode to the Central Rim, wondering if the apes were having any better luck.

Now the horrid smell. Lord Grey and his men continued west at a cautious pace, seeking out the source of the awful aroma. They came to a small rise, and as he crested the top, Lord Grey let out a gasp. The source of the smell was spread out before him. Corpses.

There were numerous dead bodies bloating in the noon sun, and by the smell, they had been there for a couple of days. They were goblins from the Swamp Crawler Tribe.

When they advanced forward, the men started to see dead horses and apes scattered here and there. Lord Grey’s men began to spread out, searching for any would be survivors. When Lord Grey reached the center of the corpses, he came across a small group of dead apes, surrounded by over forty goblin bodies.

“Over here Lord Grey!” one of his men shouted from nearby. When the squad leader approached, he observed a large dark black ape lying dead in the center, with several goblin arrows sticking out of his leather helmet. He still had a spear gripped in his dead hand, with a goblin corpse stuck on the end of it.

“It’s alpha male Tobin. Looks like he and his raiders had met a heroic end,” Lord Grey said, then turned to his Second-in-Command. “Lord Turk, take half of the men and bury the apes individually in the ground, as is their custom.” Turk was a bald man, with a long curled black moustache.

Grey turned to Lord Bone, a recent addition to his squad, and said, “Take the rest of the men and gather the goblins into large piles and burn them.” The burning, bubbling green flesh only added to the stench.

By the time that the men completed their tasks, they realized what an epic battle it had been. While all twenty-one apes in Tobin’s Raider Patrol had died, along with their horses, there were two hundred and sixty-seven dead goblins! The apes had died very well.

Lord Grey and his men headed off at a fast trot, back towards the Eastern Rim. They wanted to leave the area quickly, least the column of black smoke rising high into the evening sky brought back the army that had destroyed the apes.

I’m so very glad to be leaving the smell of rotting and burning flesh behind. My lungs are joyously greeting the fresh clean air. Still, I can’t help but wonder if we are the last defenders of the Upper Glen left alive.

                                                             *     *     *

At Gilead, the black dragon came in low this time, spraying more of its deadly acid on the detachment of dwarves from the Mountain Kingdom. The acid left several of them writhing in death pains. The mighty Ephraim the Black had chosen the west wall as the target of his rage today.

The morning’s second blast of dragon’s acid struck the inside of the wall, eating into the dwarf stone, heading straight for the center. The earlier blast had done the same from the outside edge of the wall.

Soon, only a small portion of wall remained intact at the very center, about the same size as had been left on the east wall during yesterday’s attack. The ballista scored a couple of hits on the black dragon, but it seemed unfazed and continued its rampage.

Commander Iron Fist of the Esha Mountain dwarves ordered his remaining troops to take cover on the fortified tower on the northwest corner of the west wall. It was the only place that seemed safe from the black liquid.

Ephraim the Black made another pass overhead, snatching up two dwarves in his mighty claws, while several crossbow bolts bounced harmlessly off his hard black scales. The dragon surveyed the damage that he had caused, and apparently satisfied, flew off tossing the two flailing dwarves against the hard rock wall below before he left.

King Sturdy Axe surveyed the damage himself, and then summoned his senior commanders for counsel. The meeting took place in a small planning room in the Command Tower.

“That filthy black flying lizard is destroying our walls!” Commander Oak Thump, leader of the Palace Guard, exclaimed angrily and then in a more solemn tone said, “He’ll dine on our bones before this week is out.”

“Bones?” Commander Dirty Dog, the dwarf in charge of the three main halls sneered, “That nasty acid attack of his leaves nary a bone behind!”

“Once the wall is breached, those Black Eye gobs are going to pour in by the thousands!” Commander Oak Thump bemoaned.

The two commanders could not be more opposite, yet they were the best of friends. Oak Thump was a plump and round, well-groomed dwarf with a flowing beard.

His counterpart Dirty Dog was skinny, disheveled, and unkept. He had no facial hair, which was very odd for a dwarf. He also had a balding head.

“Silence!” King Sturdy Axe raised his hands to calm his rowdy commanders, “I did not bring you here to bicker about how we’re going to die.”

The dwarf king’s face looked drawn and haggard, yet his eyes still flashed with the strength of a great leader. He thumped his fists on the table and stared at each dwarf present, his impressive gray beard shaking with the effort. 

“This castle was designed to be penetrated. Why do you think the giant bronze doors at the Main Gate have never been magicked, as is our way?” King Sturdy Axe asked, and not waiting for an answer, continued, “Any sizable army could smash through them into the courtyards. This is no oversight; it’s by design. The walls and their towers are the strength of Gilead. The walls are Gilead!”

“The walls are thick and strong, with built in storehouses and fortified towers on each corner,” Commander Oak Thump mused.

“Yes, when faced by superior numbers the tactical strategy is to allow the enemy to enter.” King Sturdy Axe continued, “Unlike most kingdoms, the Palace Hall, Golden Helm Hall, Silver Helm Hall, Bronze Helm Hall, the Stone Market Hall, and the Stable Hall were all built lower than the surrounding walls.”

“Why?” Commander Oak Thump questioned.

“Once the wall or gate is breached, then the enemy can be fired upon from the rooftops of the six main structures. If any of those structures fall, then the dwarves on the walls will still have the advantage of height while firing down upon them,” the dwarf king stated, then added, “So worry not about the dragon breaching sections of the walls. Let them come in.”

“That’s a touch of brilliance!” the skinny disheveled Dirty Dog said, appreciating the strategy of his ancestors. “And the three main halls are their own mini fortresses. It would cost a lot of gobs to take them.”

Gold, Silver, and Bronze Halls each had four floors and were designed as self-contained battle positions. The bottom floors were used as troop barracks, while the second floors were civilian housing, and the third floors were used for supply storage.

The rooftop was the fourth floor, with covered areas and small gardens, complete with rooftop parapets for crossbow dwarves who could fire down onto the streets from all four sides of the structure.

“But what of the dragon?” the plump, well-groomed Commander Oak Thump asked, then stated the obvious, “He has the height advantage on us all.”

“Well, he is the problem, isn’t he?” the tired dwarf king said, rubbing his eyes. “Any ideas?”

“I got one,” Commander Iron Fist of the Stone Mountain Dwarves spoke for the first time since the meeting began. The tough seasoned black dwarf was in the back of the room, leaning against a large two headed axe, smoking a wooden pipe.

“When I was but a wee-one, my mother used to tell me ancient stories of battles long forgotten, when dwarves made war against fantastic creatures, including dragons,” Iron Fist began, then continued, “They would weight the ballistae arrows by adding chains and such. That way, the dragon would have to retreat after a few hits, because he would grow weary from carrying the extra weight.”

“Interesting . . .” King Sturdy Axe furrowed his bushy brow. “Of course, the ballistae crews would have to let the dragon get in close before they could fire such a heavy shot with any accuracy.”

“Yes, and forcing the dragon from the field of battle early would slow down the attack. Maybe the gobs will become impatient and attack any breach,” Commander Oak Thump said, getting excited about the thought of killing some goblins.

“Let’s do it. Have the ballistae crews prepare the weighted arrows. When the walls open, I want each hall heavily defended. How many troops do you have to defend your three halls Commander Dirty Dog?” King Sturdy Axe inquired.

“Well, I’ve about a hundred and fifty warriors and nearly twice as many crossbow dwarves in total,” Dirty Dog answered his king.

“Okay, split them evenly between Golden, Silver, and Bronze Halls. You personally take charge of Bronze Helm Hall. Put Crusty Mug in charge of Golden Helm Hall and Toothy Maw in charge of Silver Helm Hall,” King Sturdy Axe commanded.

“Sire, Toothy Maw fell to a gob arrow yesterday. Broken Shield is capable of handling Silver Helm Hall,” Dirty Dog suggested.

“Make it so,” the king said, followed by Commander Dirty Dog exiting the room.

“Oak Thump.” King Sturdy Axe turned to his palace commander. “Place fifty warriors in the Stone Market Hall under young Frothy Stump. Put another fifty in the Stable Hall. I think Teak Tumbler should take command there. That should leave you with roughly two hundred dwarves to defend the palace. Remember this is all or nothing. Tell them to defend to the last dwarf.”

“Aye sire!” Commander Oak Thump said and hurried away.

“So, that leaves you and me Commander Iron Fist,” King Sturdy Axe said, realizing that he liked the tough old mountain dwarf. “Let’s hope that your mom’s stories were more than just old legends.”

King Sturdy Axe thought for a moment, tugging at his long graying beard. They still held a small section of eastern wall that had a tower. It also had the only stairway access from the walls to the courtyard down below, just past the acid eaten areas. He had three brothers commanding there and would leave them be for now.

“What are your orders for me sire?” Iron Fist asked, his grin showing some missing teeth.

“Well, it’s obvious that the dragon intends to split the wall in the east and west. That’ll leave two large sections at the north and south, each with a ballista and two fortified corner towers,” King Sturdy Axe thought aloud, and then addressed the mountain dwarf, “There’re a couple hundred dwarves patrolling the courtyards and I still have a hundred dwarves in reserves. We’ll split these troops to reinforce what few dwarves we have left on the north and south walls. I’ll lead the southern section from the Command Tower. I want you to command the northern section.”

“As you wish sire.” Iron Fist turned to leave, honored at the assignment.

“Commander Iron Fist, the walls are Gilead, and I’ve given you half of Gilead to defend. Do not let me down. Defend her as if she were your own home,” King Sturdy Axe said solemnly.

“Sire, she is my home now,” Iron Fist answered, and with a wink, he turned and walked out.