CLB Withdraws from Kaladrym
S.Y. 308.7 (Jun
The city was completely corrupted. Orcs of all classes piled in through the gates, lunging through the Hammer Squad like a warm double-axe through a erkish skull. Balin ran his squad through the city, cutting through any orcs they found, rushing to the gate. He couldn't help but stand and stare in awe at the carnage he saw. Blood everywhere, limbs of dwarf and orc scatted inside of the gate, corpses piled high. "To me! To me!" came a cry from the gate. Balin and his squad rushed over, some applying needed bandages and forcing the wounded to drink down potions, others jumping into the chaos inside the gate. Balin climbed the steps up the wooden walls to the top, where he hurled down explosives onto the unsuspecting orcish horde.
The battle raged on, the dwarves slowly being pushed backward into the city. Balin knew if the force was pushed too far back, what little advantage they had left would dissipate. Dain and two engineers rushed up to the top of the gate alongside Balin to view over the enemy. "Balin, ow's 't look from up thar?!" Dain yelled as he ran up the stairs and across the wall. "..Balin?" He stopped, and turned his head to look at the near infinite number of orcs. His mix of fear and awe was cut short, however, as an orcish bomber tossed up an explosive, knocking Balin back into the city, killing one of the engineers, and throwing Dain into the orcs group.
It seemed impossible to continue. Rik Thorak Longbeard himself stood behind the force guarding the gate, with his military advisors close to his sides. "Or's Rik.. Or implore ye.. sound tae retreat!" Thorak looked down to the ground, knowing what it had come to. He looked to an older dwarf to his left, nodding slightly. The elderly dwarf ran off to the gate, picking up a small, bronze horn. The sound of the horn rang throughout the area, and could be heard as far as the graveyeard, far to the northeast. "What tae.." Thorak thought outloud. "Thak was nai tae..." his head jolted to the right, to the mountains between the fort and the city. "In tae name 'o Dumathoin, what 's THAK?!" spears lunged downward, piercing the chests of orcs and dwarves alike. "Wut dat?! Dem nub dorf!!" an orcish warlord yelled out, as if to demand response.
As the dwarven scouts climbed the mountains to discern what these people were, it could be seen from the peaks of the mountains a much larger force of them was appearing to the east, directly behind the orcs. They ripped through them, lashing with their spears like a silver serpent smoothly applies it's fangs to it's prey, as these savage humans hurled spears forcefully down to the dwarven soldiers on the opposing side of the gate. "R-Rik Thorak...?" "Sound tae retreat!" the bellowing roar of the horn was hardly as impressive sounding as the savages horns, but it got the point across. The dwarves at the front retreated quickly to the mountains at the western side of the city, where an entrance was carved into the mountain. The engineers activated their satchel charges at the gates as soon as the dwarves were a safe distance away, blocking the entrance with corpses.
Balin regained his senses, to see the dwarves fleeing to the mountains. He rubbed his head, to feel the warmth of blood pouring from it. He stood, applied a bandage to his forehead, and ran to the mountains. Savages were leaping from the mountains to the ground level, picking off those dwarves who were to slow too retreat, or the orcs who were unfortunate to be trapped within the city. As Balin rushed toward the mountain entrance, he could hear the engineers yelling: "1...2...3!" a massive explosion erupted from the mountain, rocks tumbling down, covering up the entrance. Balin panted heavily, darkness all around him. Was this Dumathoin's paradise..? Had he died in the explosion..? Dying while retreating.. what a travesty of an honorable warrior. A golden light.. coming towards him.. "Father Dumathoin.. ferg've Or fer nai fight'n t'tae death in yer name.." the candle approached his face as he saw an elderly, bald dwarf with a long grey beard. "... ye look 'lot like Rik Th! orak.." "Ye daffy numbskull! Or AM Rik Thorak! Get yer arse up, ye're nai dead YET!" "..." "Get down to tae undercity!" "Ai-ai, Or's Rik!" Balin ran off down the dimly light mountain hall. "Soon, Britannia... soon.." Rik Thorak thought to himself, as he blew out the candle.