"Kill all the dwarves! Let us drink deep from their blood!" The orc warlord of the Northern Waste swung his battle axe, an exaggerated weapon resembling a door.
Dark red blood dripped from it, the dwarven blood congealed to a purplish hue. As a fifth-tier war general, he completely overwhelmed the dwarves' high-end combat power.
The Erebor dwarves had lost their homeland and wandered for years, lacking sufficient resources to train their elite forces.
Even Thorin Oakenshield, the dwarf king, was merely a third-tier berserker.
King Dain of the Iron Hills was slightly better off, as he had the resources to elevate himself to a fourth-tier commander. It was precisely because Dain held back the orc warlord that the entire defense line remained steady.
"Damn it! We can't let this war general continue his slaughter! Every time he assaults the city, dozens of dwarves are killed or injured!"
Thorin glared at the orc warlord, who was preparing to attack Erebor again.
"I'll go and block him!" Dain, dragging his injured body, approached Thorin while clutching his crimson battle axe.
"My brother! You can't fight any longer. You should be resting in bed, not wielding an axe!
Trust me! The situation hasn't deteriorated to the point where we need you, an injured warrior, to risk your life!" Thorin looked at his cousin with concern.
"Kili! Fili! Take him down to rest!" Thorin turned to his brothers.
"No! Thorin! You can't do this! I'm a dwarf just like you! We must face our fate together!"
The injured Dain was unable to break free from his brothers' strong grip and was forcibly dragged down from the walls of Erebor.
"Bard! I need you to help me block him!" Thorin earnestly pleaded with Bard, a third-tier ranger. Together, they might just hold their ground against the fifth-tier orc warlord.
"Of course, we have no other choice, do we?" Bard silently surveyed the orc army outside Erebor.
"Hey…" Bard sighed inwardly.
The reason Erebor still stood strong was the ample combat power within the city.
Three thousand dwarf warriors gave Thorin the confidence to defend the stronghold. However, they had underestimated the orcs' powerful ranged capabilities.
Not only did they have over five thousand archers, but they also had several orc sorcerers! Bard's keen eyes clearly spotted the figure of a brown-robed wizard…
Though there weren't many professional archers among the orc marksmen, and their short bows were of inferior quality with limited range, that massive number still posed a significant threat to the dwarves at Erebor.
So far, one in ten dwarves had fallen to the rain of arrows, as with five thousand arrows shot at once, a few were bound to find their mark, slipping through the gaps in dwarven armor.
Dwarven armor, while exquisite, still had seams and gaps; it wasn't the kind of integrated plate armor made by Zaltarion. With enough luck, even the clumsy orc archers could inflict damage.
"If only we had a few more archers, we wouldn't be so passive!" Bard gazed at the battered outer walls of Erebor, dotted with the crude orc arrows.
It was clear how desperate the orcs were.
One could only be thankful that Saruman hadn't yet fallen to darkness and wasn't providing the orcs with superior forging techniques. Otherwise, Erebor would have already fallen.
"Damn it! Crossbowmen! Fire at them fiercely!" Thorin Oakenshield roared. Though there were few archers among the dwarves, they could still retaliate with crossbows.
A steel hand crossbow could be crafted by a competent dwarven artisan in just a day or two.
Currently, the defense of Erebor relied on over two thousand dwarves and more than three hundred Dale soldiers holding back an onslaught of over ten thousand orcs.
The only means to retaliate against the orc archers were three hundred crossbows and over a hundred bows.
As for why they couldn't produce more crossbows, it was simply that they had run out of materials for the crossbow strings…
"All I want to know is where the elves are!" Bard glanced toward the west, unsure how much longer Erebor could withstand the siege.
If reinforcements didn't arrive, based on their current rate of casualties, in a month at most, Erebor would be left with no defenders…
"I've never trusted them! We're surrounded! Where are they?" Thorin shouted in frustration.
At that moment, Thorin was unaware that Bolg had bypassed the elven kingdom to attack Loshenier.
The southern forces were busy pursuing the orcs and hadn't had the time to pay attention to the battlefield at Lonely Mountain.
After all, for the time being, the orcs could do nothing against Erebor.
Of course, if Thorin knew that the elves' inaction was more about avoiding being cursed out by Celebrimbor, he would have been appalled.
…
Meanwhile, Celebrimbor was riding a moon deer at the front of his troops, his expression dark as he led a neatly arranged elven army.
Rynar and others were with him, but their forces trailed far behind the woodland elves.
After all, Elenthor had no intention of letting the star elves bleed or sacrifice their lives. The death of each kin could cause him to feel suffocated with grief!
After the Aranthor finished the battle at Loshenier, they were too drained to mount an offensive.
As auxiliary support, they could assist in the attack, but when it came to a head-on clash, they could only hold out for ten to fifteen minutes at best.
Rynar's cavalry closely followed the woodland elves, while two swift phalanxes flanked the star elves and the soldiers of Loshenier.
Riverguard:
- Area: Approximately one square kilometer.
- Buildings: 1 dilapidated lord's castle, 70 rickety houses, 30 less stable houses, mid-level magic-patterned city walls, a stone well, a blacksmith, barracks, and an archers' temple.
- Leaders: Caslow (third-tier), Reynard (fourth-tier), Radir (fourth-tier).
- Special Personnel: Aivy (third-tier).
- City Defense Officer: Marcus (fourth-tier).
- Political Officer: Lance (second-tier).
- Military Strength: 1747.
- Order of Dawn Knights: 100 second-tier knights.
- Zaltarion City Guards: 100 second-tier warriors.
- Battanian Archers: 200 second-tier archers.
- Dunwenian Swordsmen: 100 second-tier swordsmen.
- Elven Rangers: 10 second-tier rangers.
- Rapid Infantry: 937 Rapid Infantry.
- Conscripted Light Infantry: 200 light infantry.
- Zaltarion Heavy Cavalry: 100 heavy cavalry.
- Population: 1026 (trainable civilians: 253).
- Evaluation: The lonely king leads the remaining people back to their homeland, establishing this city with high walls.
While the population is sparse, things are developing positively. The city's military strength is robust enough to defend it, but it cannot stand alone against the rising darkness.
The good news is that the city has finally welcomed its city defense officer and political officer.
Note: The war has begun! The great king shows his might! Riverguard has gained temporary peace! Yet shadows still loom over the north, which requires close attention!
- Abilities:
1. As the only territory of the Zaltarion Kingdom in Middle-earth, it will attract Zaltarion's exiles to come here. The system will guide waves of wandering Zaltarion civilians to arrive each day, hoping the lord can settle them properly.
Allows the recruitment of local civilians to train Rapid Infantry.
Rynar, during his leisure time, sat atop his horse and reviewed his current assets. Upon seeing the Rapid Infantry drop from four figures to three, he felt a pang of pain.
This was too painful! Just as he had broken through the two thousand mark, the numbers had dropped back to around a thousand.
"Bolg! You're dead for sure! I swear it!" A flash of killing intent flickered in Rynar's eyes.
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