Sorry for the delay, I'm a bit sick.

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Sommerzeit-1-30-2492

"Wait… wait… now!" I shouted to my men.

From the hillside, hundreds of soldiers rose in unison and unleashed their weapons against the greenskin horde pouring out of the mountains in pursuit of one of our cavalry units. The orcs fell in droves, collapsing under the storm of lead, and the few stragglers who remained tried to flee back into the mountains. The cavalry wheeled sharply and began firing into them, forcing them to retreat into the dawi karak we had located.

It did not take long to confirm that the dwarven fortresses were under constant pressure. At every mountain pass there were bands of greenskins hunting caravans or preying on livestock. In recent days we had even found abandoned karaks—the very ones the dawi had asked me to reclaim. These days, most dwarfs lived packed tightly within Karaz-a-Karak under the High King. There, they were relatively safe, but at the price of terrible overcrowding. Resources were spent on defending the walls rather than holding the conquered halls. To reclaim a karak was possible, but to keep it running was another matter entirely.

Since Karaz-a-Karak was currently the first line of battle against the greenskins, nearly all the dawi lived within a northern tunnel complex. That was where the majority of their population resided, working vast underground farms and mines where mushroom caverns continued to expand. Most refugees ended up in that labor unless they found a trade in smithies or alchemical workshops, which were operating at full capacity to continue the war against the greenskins.

Many thanes from the southern mountains had promised me rewards from their halls and vaults—if anything remained after orcish pillaging—and even shares of what was found in their ancestors' tombs, in exchange for helping them recover these fortresses. Thus I had spent my recent days: preparing my men, purchasing dwarven weaponry with the gold I had brought, and stockpiling supplies. I had secured a hundred dawi blunderbusses and improvised paper cartridge ammunition filled with lead shot, perfect for fighting in narrow tunnels.

The karak we were about to cleanse had fallen not long ago, yet its loss had already broken a vital trade route to human settlements. That was why I refused to launch a blind offensive: instead we lured the orcs out, chasing after my cavalry, and then hunted them down with concentrated fire. This eased the pressure before we entered.

"All greenskins dead?" I asked from the hilltop.

"Yes, sir. To the last," replied a soldier as he drove his bayonet into an orc corpse.

"Good. Gather them and burn them quickly," I ordered, walking toward the entrance of the karak with my escort.

As we went inside, I confirmed with my senses what I already suspected: few metallic presences. Most of the greenskins had chased the cavalry, only to fall into the trap.

We advanced with dwarven shotguns ready and rune-armored plates gleaming under the dim tunnel light. The corridors were filled with the usual filth: bones, rotting remains, heaps of shattered iron, and dwarven statues smashed with deliberate malice.

An explosion echoed to my right.

"Two down!" one of my men shouted from the entrance to a chamber.

Then we heard footsteps. With my magic I felt their numbers approaching, and the guttural howls that always came before a charge rang out. The orcs burst in violently, but they ran straight into a blunderbuss muzzle. The shot belched a cloud of lead that tore them apart in seconds.

Piles of greenskins dropped with only two or three blasts.

"Now this is quality…" one of my men muttered, raising his dwarven weapon still smoking after blowing apart an orc in a single shot.

Entering each chamber and carefully checking every space, we discovered that this karak had once been a dwarven farm, with wide clear areas of fertile soil and a water transport system. But now, the only things growing were mushrooms.

It did not take long to declare it secure and dispatch a rider to the dawi thane who had promised me reward for its recovery.

As we prepared to push further south through the tunnels to see what else we might find, the thane of this karak arrived with a large band of dawi carrying supplies. At once he led me to his treasuries, though the first was already stripped bare by the greenskins. We checked another—also empty—and I saw the dwarf grow increasingly anxious. Only upon opening the third, brimming with gold and silver, did he breathe a sigh of relief.

"As I promised, umgi, a third of all you find in my treasuries is now yours," said the dawi thane, showing me the amassed wealth.

"Thank you. This will serve to finance my warriors' food… You know the region better than I do—do you know what lies to the south, beyond the great tunnel?" I asked about our next step.

"The next karak is not mine, umgi. But I've heard it was devoted to livestock—meat, milk, hides—and that it supported a thriving textile industry, trading clothing," replied the dawi.

"Good. For now, I recommend you secure this karak while I continue my way. Divide the share of gold that is mine; I must keep pressing on through the tunnels before another greenskin attack threatens you again," I said, turning away.

"Thank you, umgi. May my ancestors bless your struggle," answered the dwarf.

We quickly resumed our push into the tunnels, using my magic and exploiting the greenskin mindset of throwing themselves into battle as quickly as possible. The strategy worked well: I was reclaiming a minor karak every two or three days, after first thinning their numbers by drawing them into killing grounds where our cannons could slaughter them.

The tunnels were laid out in a strikingly orderly fashion: the southern mountain resembled a grid, with each karak linked to four others by north, south, east, and west tunnels. To advance, we had to cleanse those routes before moving to the next.

Another wave of reinforcements eventually arrived. Fortunately, while the greenskins were numerous, they were not endless, which made it feasible to keep reclaiming karaks without losing control.

We were gathering significant amounts of dawi gold, and—more importantly—runic weapons. As soon as the first karaks were secured by my forces, news spread like wildfire among the clans. Many workers, previously crammed into the northern holds, rushed down, eager to return to their old homes. To my dismay, this forced me to leave garrisons in tunnels and rotate men constantly so they would not be exposed underground for too long.

Even so, every karak meant treasure, and in some cases, ancestral runic weaponry. Thanes, seeing their vaults emptied, felt guilty for luring me with broken promises and instead offered runic weapons as compensation. The dawi armors, unsuited for human physiology, I declined. But runic swords, axes, and hammers were gladly added to my men's arsenal.

Cautiously, after nearly three weeks of successful tunnel fighting and multiple karaks reclaimed, I decided to surface and rest for a week. I did not want to overstrain my men with endless underground living. I warned the dawi that the advance would pause, even if more karaks lay ahead ready for liberation.

But upon emerging from the complex, I found an enormous dwarven camp raised at the entrance. Several clans had gathered, hoping to be the next fortunate ones to see their homes reclaimed. Far from being disheartened at our pause, they welcomed us with open arms, inviting me to their tables and offering rewards for my services. An umgi who had cleansed ten karaks in such a short span was someone they placed many hopes in. Thanes of noble lineage began to negotiate with me, offering maps leading to deeper karaks and promises of what they would pay if I agreed to help them.

Until the last reinforcements arrived, I devoted myself to stockpiling supplies and arming my troops. With the High King's permits, I could purchase runic arms without too many questions, so I took advantage to acquire a good number of swords and to commission custom-fitted armor for my front line.

After a week of rest, we descended into the tunnels once more. Sometimes we had to cleanse karaks already cleared, as new greenskin hordes slipped in through secondary passages. The dawi, for their part, pressed on with their relentless work—burning remains and using their steam-machines to purge every crack.

My progress was slow but methodical, and that was enough. Casualties were minimal—barely a few wounded—since my front line consisted of my finest soldiers, all clad in runic armor. For now, the campaign was a resounding success: if I kept this pace, I would amass abundant gold and a formidable arsenal of runic weapons with which, later, I could return to the Empire and finally cleanse the beastmen-plagued forests once and for all.

The main problem was that everything relied on my own forces. The High King had dispatched only a few hundred of his warriors to cover the areas we cleansed, ensuring a surprise greenskin attack would not undo our reconquest. The true dilemma would come once I departed: the dwarfs' problem would remain. Reclaiming a karak was one thing—restoring its full function was another, requiring resources, time, and far more warriors than the clans currently possessed.

The more karaks we liberated, the wider the tunnel labyrinth grew. The mountain's grid pattern held, multiplying the fronts to be defended with only a handful of guardians.

That was why I began investing the gold gained into fostering the local dawi economy, raising fortifications at the furthest tunnels I now considered our line of advance. There I installed strongpoints, reinforced with dwarven cannons I myself purchased from the spoils. Each position had to be able to hold on its own, even if no human troops were near to support it.

At the same time, I started forging bonds between clans, forcing them into joint defense. I established shared protection zones where each clan pledged to send warriors, supplies, and gold to maintain the balance. It was a radical change from the traditional dwarven mindset, where they preferred to see a neighbor fall rather than risk weakening their own defenses waiting for the High King's aid. But with gold on the table—and the condition that any future karaks liberated must agree to this arrangement or I would move on elsewhere—more than one thane accepted the pact willingly.

Thus, little by little, I was creating spaces where my presence was no longer needed each day, allowing me to advance further without fear of losing what had already been reclaimed.

What was clear, however, was that sooner or later Karaz-a-Karak would have to transform that enormous mass of farmers and artisans crammed in its caverns into warriors capable of defending their frontiers. Otherwise, no matter how many tunnels we cleansed, the greenskin threat would return again and again.

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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.

Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.

I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.

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