The Eternal Wave.
Karn Copperheart, Lord of Ironstone from the Stonelord clan, watched from the walls as his soldiers prepared to face the impending wave. Women and children were to seek refuge in the underground stone bunkers, and any capable youth wielding a shield, an axe, or a rifle was to join the ranks, even if it meant tearing them away from their mothers' arms. No matter how many soldiers they had, they would never be enough to stop the wave, but with rock and iron, they would always stand against it no matter the cost.
"I want rifles on every wall, mortars in the center, and form ten rows of ten at each entrance!" shouted the Lord, issuing the corresponding orders to his men. This would be his third battle against the wave in his lifetime. In the first battle, he lost his father. In the second, he lost his only sister and her unborn child. In this third battle, at least he had the relief of not having anyone else to lose. However, that did not lessen his hatred for the wave, but at least he wouldn't have to drown his sorrows in ale to numb his pain.
As Karn continued giving orders, the sound of marching soldiers alerted the castle's inhabitants. An observer rushed to his Lord and said, "My Lord! It's reinforcements!" This left Karn perplexed. Who in the nine hells would come to a place that would be the target of the wave? He quickly descended the stairs and ordered the gates to be opened to let in the "guests."
Karn immediately recognized who they were. They wore strange black armors, carried long and heavy rifles, and emanated a smell of gunpowder that could be felt several meters away. Fifty-six Bloodstone soldiers appeared at the castle gates and entered without permission, taking up the same positions as the other soldiers, bolstering the ranks. The leader of the group approached Karn while the rest of the soldiers continued positioning themselves on the walls and castle ramparts. Karn looked at him and couldn't help but feel a slight discomfort at the sight of the Bloodstone's red eyes before him. His skin was dark, and tattooed runes could be seen on it... runes that shouldn't be written... he was a Warlock.
"Am I making you nervous, Lord of Ironstone?" he said with a voice that sounded as if it came from a forge. The simple act of opening his mouth heated the surroundings, and Karn felt a drop of sweat forming on his nose. "A little... What brings the soldiers of King Ragnar to Ironstone?" Karn asked, surveying his surroundings as all the dwarves in the castle looked at them with distrust and, although they would never admit it, feared what they might do. The Warlock looked around, noticing the distrust in the dwarves' eyes, and calmly replied, "High King Zarin requested reinforcements in this area, as we need the iron from this place for our future battles." Then, looking back at Karn, he added, "And we only answer to Ragnar, even if Zarin is the High King."
Karn looked at him for a few seconds and sighed. "Well... whatever the reason, we need all the help we can get. If you're going to fight by our side, you're welcome," Karn said. The Bloodstone bowed, raised his hand, and with a snap of his fingers, Karn's axe ignited in flames, burning without ever extinguishing. "For the battle," he said to Karn and headed towards his men, leaving the Lord of the castle contemplating his new flaming weapon. Karn was about to say something, but the war horn sounded, and the lookout's shout alerted everyone.
"The wave, my Lord! It's coming this way!"
Three times Karn had witnessed the wave, and on all three occasions, the only feeling he experienced was fear and nausea. The Kobolds advanced in a stampede, hundreds in the first wave and hundreds more behind them. Their screeches could be heard, the sound of their paws trampling the ground, and the damned stench of excrement, urine, and decay they emitted. All dwarves from all realms knew this. That these creatures were their worst enemies. Men, elves, orcs, undead, demons, and any other damned creature that stood in their way, dwarves knew they could defeat them because they always pursued the same things. They wanted gold, territory, resources, or slaves... but these creatures were different. They didn't desire any of that. They simply wanted to eat... and their food was them.
"To the gates! Fire the rifles and mortars! Fight without mercy! Ironstone will not fall today! FOR THE HIGH KING!"
Those were the last words heard before the terrible and deafening screech of the wave.
Karn Copperheart, Lord of Ironstone from the Stonelord clan, watched from the walls as his soldiers prepared to face the impending wave. Women and children were to seek refuge in the underground stone bunkers, and any capable youth wielding a shield, an axe, or a rifle was to join the ranks, even if it meant tearing them away from their mothers' arms. No matter how many soldiers they had, they would never be enough to stop the wave, but with rock and iron, they would always stand against it no matter the cost.
"I want rifles on every wall, mortars in the center, and form ten rows of ten at each entrance!" shouted the Lord, issuing the corresponding orders to his men. This would be his third battle against the wave in his lifetime. In the first battle, he lost his father. In the second, he lost his only sister and her unborn child. In this third battle, at least he had the relief of not having anyone else to lose. However, that did not lessen his hatred for the wave, but at least he wouldn't have to drown his sorrows in ale to numb his pain.
As Karn continued giving orders, the sound of marching soldiers alerted the castle's inhabitants. An observer rushed to his Lord and said, "My Lord! It's reinforcements!" This left Karn perplexed. Who in the nine hells would come to a place that would be the target of the wave? He quickly descended the stairs and ordered the gates to be opened to let in the "guests."
Karn immediately recognized who they were. They wore strange black armors, carried long and heavy rifles, and emanated a smell of gunpowder that could be felt several meters away. Fifty-six Bloodstone soldiers appeared at the castle gates and entered without permission, taking up the same positions as the other soldiers, bolstering the ranks. The leader of the group approached Karn while the rest of the soldiers continued positioning themselves on the walls and castle ramparts. Karn looked at him and couldn't help but feel a slight discomfort at the sight of the Bloodstone's red eyes before him. His skin was dark, and tattooed runes could be seen on it... runes that shouldn't be written... he was a Warlock.
"Am I making you nervous, Lord of Ironstone?" he said with a voice that sounded as if it came from a forge. The simple act of opening his mouth heated the surroundings, and Karn felt a drop of sweat forming on his nose. "A little... What brings the soldiers of King Ragnar to Ironstone?" Karn asked, surveying his surroundings as all the dwarves in the castle looked at them with distrust and, although they would never admit it, feared what they might do. The Warlock looked around, noticing the distrust in the dwarves' eyes, and calmly replied, "High King Zarin requested reinforcements in this area, as we need the iron from this place for our future battles." Then, looking back at Karn, he added, "And we only answer to Ragnar, even if Zarin is the High King."
Karn looked at him for a few seconds and sighed. "Well... whatever the reason, we need all the help we can get. If you're going to fight by our side, you're welcome," Karn said. The Bloodstone bowed, raised his hand, and with a snap of his fingers, Karn's axe ignited in flames, burning without ever extinguishing. "For the battle," he said to Karn and headed towards his men, leaving the Lord of the castle contemplating his new flaming weapon. Karn was about to say something, but the war horn sounded, and the lookout's shout alerted everyone.
"The wave, my Lord! It's coming this way!"
Three times Karn had witnessed the wave, and on all three occasions, the only feeling he experienced was fear and nausea. The Kobolds advanced in a stampede, hundreds in the first wave and hundreds more behind them. Their screeches could be heard, the sound of their paws trampling the ground, and the damned stench of excrement, urine, and decay they emitted. All dwarves from all realms knew this. That these creatures were their worst enemies. Men, elves, orcs, undead, demons, and any other damned creature that stood in their way, dwarves knew they could defeat them because they always pursued the same things. They wanted gold, territory, resources, or slaves... but these creatures were different. They didn't desire any of that. They simply wanted to eat... and their food was them.
"To the gates! Fire the rifles and mortars! Fight without mercy! Ironstone will not fall today! FOR THE HIGH KING!"
Those were the last words heard before the terrible and deafening screech of the wave.