Pitched Battle against monsters

The next day, your combined forces unleashed hell upon the monsters, bombarding their positions with hours of relentless trebuchet fire and spell casting. Druids, Wizards and Warlocks all plied their craft in a macabre display of slaughter, as scores of monsters fell to pieces, charred and twisted beyond salvation.

Some would survive the bombardment, mounting a **** charge as they tried to break through the siege, but your combined forces made an entrenched encirclement of the Horn Hills. It was like trying to bypass an iron wall with no siege equipment, and the monsters were slain by volleys of arrows, or, if they got close enough, by the blades and spears of infantrymen.

Bloody melees often ensued when monsters got close to infantry formations, but despite all their desperation and their savagery, no monster would ever bypass your men.

The battle would last for the entire day, only concluding at night when the last monster was confirmed dead and all nests burned to ash. Horn Hills was cleansed and primed for recolonisation.

The men celebrated amidst the smell of burned flesh as monster corpses were set ablaze on funeral pyres, feasting and making merry with song and dance.

You sat alone with Tyswaen, each of you holding tankards of ale, a blazing bonfire illuminating the scenery with its bright orange light.

“Feels like a lifetime ago I set out on this quest of mine,” Said Tyswaen, “Hard to believe this ancestral home of ours is finally reclaimed.”

“Then engrave it into your heart,” You said, “The moment you have avenged an ancestral grudge and reclaimed an old home.”

“I certainly will,” Said Tyswaen, “Though now, I’ll have to worry about building it back up to scratch; ain’t exactly a bustling city more than a military outpost.”

“We can help with agriculture and timber,” You said, “We of Dusk Circle have honed our Druidic talents for such purposes, among others.”

“And I suppose after we finish building up our homes, you’ll want help of our own?” Asked Tyswaen.

“Our allies need help rebuilding their towns and villages, after all, and we will need increased defensive measures to counter future monster raids,” You said, “And I do hope our alliance continues to endure, My Lady.”

“That it will, My Lord,” Said Tyswaen, “But how’s about you warm up my tent tonight? Consider it my reward for helping with this battle.”

You cheekily smile and kiss her, and the two of you retire to your tent for the night, the sounds of rutting and fucking muted over the din of dancing and singing.

You would remain in the Horn Hills for a month longer, providing protection as guards as Shield Dwarven migrants flocked to the reclaimed Dwarven lands, starting work on rebuilding the lost Firehammer Hold and Bloodgate Keep – both vital defense strongpoints.

Even as they began rebuilding, Tyswaen would declare the founding of a new city in the heart of the Horn Hills, which she named Naltuhrm. She planned it as the future capital of a rebuilt Dwarven Kingdom of Dardath, and from which she would rule as Queen.

Of course, no one knows of the secret alliance between you and her – one formed in the throes of lust and the privacy of a tent, and you intend to keep it that way for the time being.

Then, when the baseline fortifications were built and enough Shield Dwarves populated the Hills, it was time for you to return home.

You sigh in ****, kissing Tyswaen as you broke from your embrace.

“A damn shame you have to go, Elaxalim,” Said Tyswaen, “I was enjoying your company, and the sex.”

“It’s not forever, Tyswaen,” You said, “Merely returning home for a little while.”

Tyswaen smiles, saying, “I’ll be waiting for you then, and I’ll be curious on what kind of Kingdom you’re building.”

As your warhost marched home to Westwood forest, your Marshal Carberos trots up to you on horseback, asking, “Will you be retiring to your quarters when we return, My Lord?”

You shake your head, saying, “No, we’ll be stopping at Red Larch first to inspect the damage, and to help build fortifications of some sort. That way, the locals will be better prepared next time the monsters come.”

“A sound plan,” Said Carberos, “Though I believe your Lady Mother has that in hand.”

“It never hurts to check every now and then,” You stated.

The moment you arrive at Red Larch, however, you find both Wood Elves and the surviving inhabitants of Red Larch dealing with what seemed like a large caravan, laden with goods and beasts of burden, tired and ragged and looking like they were on their last legs.

You quickly make your way towards the commotion, asking, “What’s going on here?”

One of the Wood Elves turns to face you, saying, “My Lord, these are refugees from other towns and villages north of here. They say they came fleeing famine and oppression by cruel lords and seek shelter.”

“This is concerning, My Lord,” Said Carberos as he moves beside you, “Food supply is no problem, but Red Larch cannot house all their numbers.”

“Then why not accommodate some of them into the forests?” You suggested.

Carberos almost wants to correct you, then remembers that Westwood yet has more space for living denizens.

“Even so, I highly doubt our people will so easily welcome these refugees,” Said Carberos, “We don’t know if they’re going to simply freeload of our hospitality, and there’s no telling how they’ll interact with them either.”

“We’ll have to take that chance, but you have a point,” You said, “For now, get them acclimatised to dealing with our people and the locals. I’ll talk with my mother about how to deal with this situation.”

“Please do,” Said Carberos, “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on the situation, but we both know this must be resolves quickly.”

You quickly make your way towards Westwood, where no doubt an equally annoyed Shala Thaeral will want advice on the refugee crisis.

Just another day in the war-ridden North.