Assault on Dalgurd
Assault on Dalgurd
Dalgurd's Time is at an End
Dounadi eyed the gnome caravan with mild interest as it passed through the eastern gate. Their wagons, led by mountain goats, were laden with new magical weapons—wands, staffs, orbs—items of great power that the gnomes traded for precious metals and gems that the dwarves of Dalgurd hewed from the mountain stone. Dounadi himself had never used an arcanist weapon like a wand—he preferred his Morningstar—but he appreciated any weapon that could put down an enemy.
He yawned as he looked down from his position on the eastern wall. The sun was rising over the peaks of the Drakis mountains bringing fresh light to the cold day. He much preferred to be wrapped in the blankets of his bed to the boredom of guard duty. Dalgurd had not seen battle itself in several years, and Dounadi didn’t think today would be any different.
“Stay up late again?”
Dounadi turned to see Ergatha approaching him, her dark hair tied back in many braids, her plate armor gleaming in the morning sunlight, a falchion strapped to her back. Ergatha Winterfury they called her—as beautiful and deadly as her namesake.
Ergatha the Man-Rejector is what she should be called, Doundai thought sourly. Many dwarven men—himself included—had made advances toward Ergatha over the years, only to be rejected. He had heard rumors that she had once loved someone in the past, another dwarf from the Sea-Gaze mountains to the north, but that was all hearsay. But if she was still holding on to that love, it would explain her constant rejections.
And it would make Dounadi feel a bit better.
Dounadi stifled another yawn. “I suppose you could say that. Playing dice with the boys and gambling away what’s left of my dignity.”
Ergatha gave a wry smile. “Taking men’s dignity? Why wasn’t I invited?”
Dounadi scoffed. “Because you were probably busy hunting goblins on patrol.”
“Actually, I was escorting that gnome caravan you see down there.” She gave a nod towards the gnomes, who were currently passing crates to a small group of dwarves who had come out to help them. “The Pale Serpent tribe has been bolder lately, and this shipment of magical items was too important to risk losing.”
“Did you encounter any of the goblin scum?” Dounadi asked. ‘
Ergatha shook her head. “No. But we have to stay on our guard.” A sudden spear of sunlight caught her face, making her ice-blue eyes glow like orbs. For the briefest moment, Dounadi found himself smitten, and wishing that he could sweep the dwarf woman off her feet.
Ergatha cocked an eyebrow. “Is something wrong? You’re staring at me.”
Dounadi blushed and shook his head. He turned his attention back to the gnomes. “Nothing. Just sleepy.”
Ergatha didn’t press. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’m going to find some food.” Dounadi watched her leave. Once she had gone down the stairs of the wall and passed out of view he let out a deep sigh.
He’d have a better chance of marrying a goblin.
***
Ergatha munched on some bread and cold cheese while sipping some mead. She sat on a crate beneath the eastern wall, ruminating on the reports she had heard of goblins from the Pale Serpent tribe. Indeed, the reports had been unnerving. Closer to their territory, more in number. Though Dalgurd had not faced any conflict for many years, she knew that peace was a delicate illusion that could be cast away with the first winds of war. The question was how long? These goblin sightings were dark clouds on the horizon, promising a tumultuous storm.
Ergatha gulped down the rest of her food and drained the last sips of mead. If any goblins or any enemies dared come to the doorstep of the great dwarven city, they would have Ergatha Winterfury to deal with. She’d defend the city to her last breath.
She started to make her way to the gnome wagon where they were unloading the last of the crates when an odd noise scratched at her eardrums. A haunting cry that echoed across the sky. Dwarves who were milling about paused in activity and looked upwards.
A black-bearded dwarf tossed Ergatha a nervous glance. “What was that?”
The cry came again, floating on the wind like a phantom cry.
Then Ergatha heard Dounadi from the wall shouting, “Danger! To arms, to arms!”
Dwarves began drawing weapons and heading up the steps of the eastern wall. Ergatha was among the first to take to the stairs, and when she reached the top she saw something that made her heart drop.
A dragon, its scales shining gold in the rising sun was coming down from the mountains, its great wings slicing through the wind, its smoldering eyes locked on Dalgurd.
“Sound the alarm!” Ergatha screamed. She ran along the wall, shoving dwarves to their respective stations. “Crossbows! Man the ballistas!” She grabbed a crossbow from a nearby rack and loaded it with a bolt as the beast came closer.
The dragon tilted slightly on its flight path, and as it did so, Ergatha caught a shadow on its back. She stared in disbelief.
A goblin was riding on the dragon’s back.
Ergatha snapped back to attention as she saw the dragon opening its maw, a great gout of flame building between its jaws.
“Take cover!” she shouted and she dropped behind the wall’s parapet.
Hot fire spilled upon the wall consuming everything in its path. Screams of dying dwarves resounded around Ergatha as they were cooked in their armor. Ergatha hissed as some of the flames licked at her face. Fortunately, she had avoided the brunt of the damage.
Ergatha rose from the flames to see the dragon still flying about, circling around for another assault. Crossbows clicked as bolts flew from the city’s towers. Ergatha’s kin shouted curses as the bolts missed or bounced off of the dragon’s armor-thick scales.
Ergatha saw a green light shine from between the dragon’s shoulders. The goblin riding it possessed a staff, and its orb was glowing. He raised it and seemed to shout something, and bolts of green energy shot at the towers where many of the soldiers were firing their crossbows. Dwarves went spiraling to their deaths as the spells knocked them off, their screams loud and piercing. Ergatha shouted in rage and let loose a bolt as the dragon sailed overhead, only for it to ricochet off of one of its scales.
The dragon descended to land in the courtyard next to the gnomes’ wagon. The gnomes had scattered at the first sight of the dragon, but now dwarven warriors converged on the golden beast.
“Kill them all!” the goblin shouted, grinning wickedly.
The dragon roared, and Ergatha felt a quiver of fear. She ignored it and drew her falchion and descended the steps of the wall, ready to join her brethren.
The dragon’s jaws snapped, biting down on one of the charging dwarves. There was a loud crunch as its teeth pierced through the dwarf’s armor. There was a scream of agony as the dragon reared its head, tossing the warrior through the air. With a quick swing of its tail, it sent another dwarf flying and crashing into a far wall. The other dwarves kept their distance, the points of the weapons trained on the dragon.
As the dragon kept the dwarves busy, Ergatha saw the goblin slip from its shoulders to the wagon. He seemed to rummage through the crates for a few seconds before a look of satisfaction came over his leathery face. He held up a gleaming, silver object that Ergatha didn’t recognize.
“Thief! Murderer!” Ergatha charged the goblin, raising her sword.
The goblin saw her coming at him. He barely raised his staff in time to block the strike from her blade. The metal of his staff rang against her sword.
“Call me what you will, dwarf,” the goblin spellcaster sneered. “Dalgurd’s time is at an end.” He pushed her back, and before she could lash out for a second attack, a bolt of green energy shot from his staff. It struck her in the middle of her chest and a pain like sparking fire went through her entire body. Ergatha felt her body flying, her falchion slipping from her grasp. She went tumbling into a collection of crates, and as they fell about her, all went dark.
***
“Ergatha…Ergatha…come now, wake up lass!”
Ergatha’s eyes shot open. Dounadi crouched over her, his face covered with soot. “Are you alright?”
Ergatha struggled to sit up, her body tingling with pain. She thanked the stone gods that she had her enchanted armor—otherwise, she was sure the goblin’s spell would have killed her.
She looked around. Much of the courtyard of the eastern wall was in flames, dwarves scattering with buckets of water to douse the fires. Others were gathering the dead and seeing the wounded.
Ergatha looked at Dounadi. “The dragon…?”
Dounadi had a grim expression. “Gone. Along with that goblin slime.”
Ergatha nodded. The goblin’s face came back to her mind. And that silver object. She didn’t know what it had been, only that if it was from the gnome’s shipment, that it was magical. She had never heard of a goblin riding a dragon, and she had never dreamed that Dalgur could have faced such an attack.
The goblin’s words echoed in her mind. Dalgurd’s time is at an end.
Ergatha feared that his words might be true.