Lieze spent the next few days eagerly scanning the horizon for distant mountains. On the third, her patience was rewarded. Great columns of smoke billowed from the hollow peaks, where the endless toil of metal and fire birthed machinery capable of repelling any invasion. In another time, she may have been intimidated by the idea of conquering the Dwarven Mountains, but on that day, she found nothing but confidence flourishing in her heart.
"Lüngen." She said, "Are you young enough to be participating in a battle like this?"
"Hoh!" The elder, suddenly reminded of his age, raised his chin as if to appear impervious, "22 long years, and you're finally accusing me of going senile? I'll have you know that I was still thumping skulls with the best of them after I reached 65!"
"...How old are you?" Lieze realised that the question had never crossed her mind. Even in her earliest memories, Lüngen had always been a wrinkled old man. As the years went on, his features sagged to the point of absurdity, and yet he had remained so lucid that she couldn't be certain that he'd aged a single year.
"If I told you, there's a good chance I'd turn to dust right here and now." Lüngen chuckled, "Don't you worry yourself about me, Lieze. I've seen all there is to see and feared all there is to fear. Death can have me whenever she wants, but the two of us have a somewhat estranged relationship."
Lieze paused, unsure of whether she was listening to one of the man's classic rants or an elaborate eulogy, "...Don't use that as an excuse to get yourself killed."
"It is the dream of all we doddering fossils to die in a manner that allows us to recapture our youth." He replied, "Or, at least, it is the dream of most. I would prefer to die after a good meal, quickly, and in the dead of night."
"Do you think you're going to die before we're in control of the entire continent?"
"If I could answer that question with any certainty, then death would not be half as beautiful as it is." Lüngen mused, "Will you be upset when I die, Lieze?"
She hesitated to answer, "Drayya will."
"Will she?" The sentiment brought a smile to his ageing face, "I doubt that. Drayya is not the sort of girl who allows anything to affect her. If you were to perish, however, then she would drown in an ocean of despair. That is why - more than anything else - it is you who cannot afford to die, Lieze."
Everything rode on her success. The Order would crumble without her power and leadership, reduced to the same holdout of exiles once commanded by Sokalar. The world would heal from her influence, and the Light in Chains would become nothing more than a whisper uttered by those of an esoteric persuasion.
For the first time, Lüngen's gaze seemed very far away indeed - beyond the mountains and the marshes and the great oaks of Akzhem. It was as if he was staring towards oblivion itself . A premonition of death looming on the horizon, only perceptible to those who were approaching the end of their lives. Lieze wondered if her passing remark about his age had affected him in some deeper way.
Then, the light returned to his eyes, and he placed a reassuring hand upon her shoulder. "Now, let's get a move on." He said, "The world will not wait for you."
New Quest Received!
'Anthill' - Break through the outer defences of the Dwarven Mountains
Reward - 10,000xp
Gravewalkers, Fleshbags, Horrors, Flesh Elementals, Rot Behemoths, Briarknights… it would take more than a day to arrive at a conclusive number, but Lieze estimated that her army had swelled into the low 6000s. She could have gathered more - many more, but as Lüngen had warned, time was not her ally, and learning to work with a small but effective force was far simpler than working with unreasonable numbers.
Before approaching the mountains, she organised the thralls into loose formations to cover the widest area possible, reducing the effectiveness of trebuchets and ballistae on the army's cohesion. Every wide plain leading up to the subterranean city was in plain view of the gates and siege weapons, leaving no question in Lieze's mind that she was going to be marching into the line of fire either way.
"Approaching from multiple directions is just asking to be attacked with more weapons." Before the army strayed too close, Lieze convened her cultists to establish an opening strategy, "We'll be focusing our attention on one gate, spreading ourselves thin to take advantage of the siege weapons' slow turning speed. Some losses will be unavoidable, since our main objective will be to survive until we can close the gap."
Drayya folded her arms, "What about the Bonecrawlers?"
"Our chances of success hinge on their ability to draw fire and infiltrate the gates." She continued, "That will force the defenders into a skirmish, allowing us to proceed without having to worry about ranged attacks. I don't expect many of the Bonecrawlers to survive - their sole purpose is to buy time while we move forward."
It was a remarkably simple plan. Too simple, even. Lieze had kept Drayya's warning of unforeseen factors in mind over the last few days, warning the cultists not to engage anyone or anything they didn't fully understand. She would have to remain on her toes if she hoped to stage a counterattack against the enemy's stratagems.
"If our infectious Bonecrawlers managed to enter the city, we should see a reduced presence of soldiers at the gates…" She muttered, "If our plan turns pear-shaped, we also have the Flesh Golems to rely on in a pinch. But I would prefer not having to waste them if possible."
What else was there to do? Unlike Tonberg, she didn't have the benefit of launching her attack from within - Sokalar had already done most of the heavy lifting for her. Now, the time had come to test her own skills of command against a subterranean fortress legendary for its impregnable reputation.
If she succeeded, it would mean the beginning of the end. Her dominion over the continent would no longer be contested. The path forward would open, and her dream of a comforting oblivion would be closer than ever before. But if she failed…
She shook her head. The thought wasn't worth considering - not when she'd already come as far as she had on her own merits. There would never be another battle more arduous and costly, but the distant future beyond was so rife with opportunity that her only choice was to emerge victorious, no matter the cost.
"Lieze."
She turned her head to spot Drayya standing alongside Lüngen and the Deathguards. All of them looked to her for guidance, reliant on the orders of the one who could lead them to their long-awaited salvation. Once, she had been worth less than dirt in those dependent eyes, but now, there lingered nothing less than unspoken respect.
"...It's time." She said, "Get yourselves into position."
...
..
.
Roland dappled the sweat from his forehead with a coarse napkin, "I've done enough running for today… can't we take a break?"
"If we linger in any one spot, we'll only draw suspicion." Marché replied, "It's a good thing we replaced those barrels when we did. Half of the mines we went to are being cordoned off by the guards now."
Stubby regiments of ironclad soldiers waddled past them with weapons held high. Screams bounced from the cavernous walls, lifting up from the belly of the mountain where a dreadful sickness had taken hold of the population. A matter of days had passed since the first Gravewalker appeared, and yet the so-called 'undead curse' was ravaging the country worse than any plague, which presented a unique problem for the necromancers trying to keep their true identities under wraps.
"It's only going to be a matter of time before someone realises those Gravewalkers aren't attacking us." Roland said, "As soon as that happens, we're dead. There aren't nearly enough thralls to overthrow Alberich."
"You're overestimating the average citizen's perception." Marché replied, "All we need to do is keep our heads down and watch the chaos unfold from a distance. This can only work out in our favour."
Their conversation halted when another group of soldiers came marching through, led by a Dwarf who could have very well been a living statue for all the armour he was wearing. The grate of wiry steel over his face hid a pair of ocean-blue eyes that seemed to catch fire in the light of the sconces.
Marché flinched when the Dwarf came to a sudden stop as they passed one-another, causing a domino effect of rattling metal as the soldiers behind him came to a halt one-by-one. The two men exchanged a glance that couldn't have lasted more than a quarter of a second. But that inconsequential moment was all Marché needed to spot the burning fury in his gaze.
A second later, their march began again, and the soldiers disappeared into the depths of the mountain. Roland jabbed an elbow into Marché's side. "Do you know who that was?" He asked.
"I don't. But judging by his armour, I'd wager he was someone important."
Roland cast a glance over his shoulder, as if afraid the Dwarves would overhear them, "...That was Mime." he continued, "Alberich's brother. Technically, the Dwarven King is the active general of his army, but I hear that Alberich prefers to shove the responsibility onto his dear sibling."
"Is that so…" Marché muttered, "He didn't look very happy to see us."
"No… I wonder why that is? Because we're human?"
"I imagine he recognised us from the trial. Quite a few Dwarves are upset by the fact that we were able to acquit Baccharum. They have a right to be, all things considered - it's not as if he was actually innocent."
But then again, he thought, there was annoyance and then there was plain hatred. With only his eyes, Mime was able to communicate inconsolable fury. The kind of expression one would only show to a mortal enemy. Marché was half-convinced that he was about to be attacked.
"We'll have to deal with him at some point." He muttered, "If I had to guess, I'd say we still have a day or two before-"
A deafening noise rolled through the cylindrical passageway, drowning out the rest of Marché's prediction. The two men held both hands over their ears as yet more horns joined in the chorus, causing the walls around them to shiver.
"What the fuck…?" Roland's voice was muffled in the ringing silence that followed, "You could wake the dead with an alarm like that…"
"It can't be…" Marché said, "Already?"
He took off in the direction of a nearby residential area. Roland blinked before following in his wake, "Oi! Marché! Wait up!"
As they ascended through the winding roots of the mountain, the commotion caused by the undead curse was overshadowed by a cacophony of worried yells. Dwarves scarpered recklessly from one chamber to the next, diving into hovels and stuffing their belongings into great sacks which they hauled over their shoulders. A healthy line of evacuees were trampling through the tunnels by the time Marché and Roland approached an atrium.
"One at a time! One at a time!" One guard among a dozen others was attempting to bark orders over the chaos, "Bring only the essentials! Women and children first! Form an orderly line! Absolutely no pushing!"
"They're being evacuated…" Roland muttered, "Is Lieze here already!?"
"What else could trigger a response like this?" Marché replied, "I thought we had more time…"