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Dessa let out a long sigh and eyed the riot from his secluded corner. As Goblin taverns went, this was not a bad one. Morganheim Stronghold was as good a place to be as any other the old traveler had found, in fact better than many. Utterly incapable of refined reflection, the Goblins and Orcs went about their free time throwing furniture, drinking massive amounts of what they called “mead” and coming dangerously close to biting each other's ears off. Dessa would have joined in himself, but something held him back. Morganheim was a good place to pick a friendly fight, that much was certain. So was Hartgrim and Sandflash and all the other Strongholds scattered across this side of the continent. The ceiling was low, the walls sturdy. A full-grown bull could run headlong into the square doors and they would hold. The people were thick-skulled and strong-backed. But these Taverns were nothing like the distant memories of a lost home, swimming in the mind of the traveling Ogre.
The thick doors swung open and Dessa’s eyes darted to the newcomer. She met his gaze and started making her way through the crowded room, kicking Goblins left and right as she strode. Dessa knew her well. This was Shiva, the warlord of Morganheim, a redhaired human with the strength of will to wrestle a boar. She was a giant among her own kind, almost as tall as any Ogre, and her blazing red hair just about made her look like one. It was really only her meek, sandy skin color - some sort of pale pink instead of magnificent green - that distinguished her as a human.
She grabbed a copper flagon from a nearby Orc and sat down heavily at Dessa’s table.
“It’s good to see you again,” she announced between gulps. “It’s been a long time since you visited us, old wanderer.”
“I’ve been elsewhere,” Dessa said, eyes still sweeping the room. “I fought in the siege at Dragonspire, and since then I have trekked my way over to this side of the world.”
“Dragonspire not good enough for you?”
“It’s not my home.”
“Nothing is. And nothing ever will be, if you keep leaving places behind as soon as you get there. You have traveled further than any Ogre I know, but you are growing older now. Why not just choose a place and settle down?”
“And that place would be Morganheim, eh?” Dessa’s eyes turned to Shiva’s.
She shrugged in mock apology. “Our gates are always open for someone with your skills.”
“It’s a kind offer, but my true home is out there. I can still find it.”
“Your home was lost. You were just a wee child when it was sacked. I know this is why you're such a restless traveler, and your constant searching has honed your pathfinding skills to famous heights, but even if you somehow did find your way back there, the little village of your dreams will be a large town now, with walls, towers and a whole army calling it ‘home’.”
Dessa grunted and bared his teeth.
“I know it pains you to hear it, but it is the truth,” Shiva said, and the kindness in her voice would come as a surprise to anyone who didn’t know her. “All you can do now is find someplace new and make it your home. Do you think I was born in Morganheim?”
Dessa raised a thick eyebrow and eyed the woman.
“By the gods,” she laughed, “I was born in a circus! I escaped the damn thing and fought my way from mercenary to warlord with these two hands!”
The two friends laughed at the unlikeliness of her story.
“In all seriousness, though,” Shiva continued, “Morganheim is my home because I made it so. You can brood and sulk all you like, but your childhood village is gone, and you are a lost traveler with nowhere to go.”
With nothing to say Dessa focused on his drink.
“But I didn’t come in here to share stories about the past,” Shiva moved on. “I heard you had been spotted at our gates and I thought I’d ask if you wanted to be little useful while you were in the area. I have a job for someone who can look for hidden things.”
“You have something that needs finding?”
Shiva leaned forward conspiratorially, “What do you know about the Holy Grail?”
This took Dessa by surprise. The Grail was a mythological treasure, said to bestow immense riches and fortune to the one who claims it. Most likely it had never even existed.
“Not much more than anyone else, I suppose.” he said suspiciously. “An old artefact no one can find.”
“Yes, but I can,” Shiva whispered excitedly. “There are ancient runestones all over the world, mysterious Obelisks from a forgotten era. Few know what they are for, but the secret is this: They all contain hints to the location of the Grail.”
“Do they now?”
“Yes. And I have collected almost all the puzzle pieces. I just need one final piece to solve the riddle!”
“Do excuse me while I remain sceptical.”
“Oh, you don’t need to believe in the old stories. All I ask is that you travel to the final Obelisk, up in the north, and take a peek at it. I’ll provide you with troops and some gold.”
“North is a good place to head” Dessa mused.
* * *
Traveling for days in a row was nothing new to the weatherworn Ogre. Stray snowflakes melting on his green skin, Dessa looked out over the landscape and studied the path ahead. With a small band of Goblins he had left the sandy wastelands of the south and journeyed into colder climates of mountains and forests. Dessa expected the mysterious Obelisk to be nearby, and spying down the hills he spotted a tall, rectangular pillar of stone, standing lonely in the middle of the valley.
“We are reaching our destination,” he announced to the troops. “Let’s move forward.”
The excited Goblins ran down the hill, almost tumbling over each other in their hurry. Once arrived at the stone a confused disappointment came over their faces. Dessa approached the Obelisk.
“Wha’zzit ye gots there?” squeaked someone behind him; one of the Goblins, smallish and with his hair blackened with tar.
“This is the Obelisk we are looking for,” Dessa grunted. “There’s supposed to be some riddle of sorts inside, but I’m not sure how to decipher it.”
“That so?” the goblin laughed. “An’ all me life I’s been told you Ogres is s’posed to be the clever ones!”
Dessa snarled and placed his hands on the strange Obelisk. As he did so the carved stone sprung to life. Before his eyes the runes and inscriptions warped and danced, creating new shapes and dissolving them again instantly. After a short while the stone shards slowed down and settled into a formation that vaguely resembled a map.
As soon as Dessa lay eyes on the map his guts sank. He knew the shape of that peninsula. He was familiar with the brook that followed the base of the mountains. He recognised the edge of the forest they just came out of.
Could this be the the place?
Dessa left the befuddled Goblins behind and sprinted up the hill on the other side of the valley. When he reached the hilltop a wind caught his hair, and he looked down on the sight which had haunted his dreams for years. He let his eyes wander over the planes which had housed the village of his childhood. Fractured memories paraded before his mind's eye; the cottages raided by human marauders, his kin slaughtered or enslaved, his own unlikely escape, and he felt the familiar Bloodlust beginning to boil inside him.
Where his village had been, and leaning against the far mountainsides for support, a huge Tower had been erected, large enough to tickle the clouds. The surrounding castle walls were fortified, with guards behind every parapet, and monstrous machinery rolling between the buildings. Smoke rose in streaks from chimneys and exhaust pipes, the telltale sign of the terrifying technology humans were so fond of. The valley was now a place of high towers and alchemic manufactories.
As he stood looking down on the fortifications the Goblin troops caught up behind him. He glanced at them over his shoulders; a small band of fighters, not a one over a meter tall, armed with maces and clubs. They were fierce all right, but they were not many, nor particularly strong.
He knew he could not take on a whole town with just a pack of Goblins. It simply could not be done. He had done what he came to do. He had studied the secrets of the Obelisk, and Shiva was waiting eagerly in Morganheim for his return. The rational thing to do next was to go back and tell of his findings. Now he knew where this place was. He could rally a whole army and come back here later. That was the rational thing to do.
But inside him he could feel his Bloodlust growing stronger; that feeling all Ogres are intimately familiar with. Others can feel it too, and many Ogres can learn to spread it, but no one can know a true Bloodlust as an Ogre can. It is fueled by rage and it makes it oh so difficult to think of things other than broken limbs, cracked skulls and revenge. He felt the fury pulse behind his broad forehead, and his vision grew narrower as his eyes filled up with warm blood. Charging ahead on no longer seemed like such a bad idea.
“We attack” he whispered, his fists clenched and his eyes throbbing.
“Sorry there, big boss” some Goblin coughed, possibly the one that had spoken before. “Must be something in me ear. I almost thinks ye says we should attack, all army-like.”
“I did.” Dessa confirmed. “We will lay siege on the castle.”
“Are ye bonkers?! Off the ol’ rocker?! A wee bit unhinged? We can’t attack a whole castle, there be hardly twenty of us, and we ain’t even gots no wolves to ride on.”
He’s right, you know, Dessa's rational mind pointed out. But with his blood boiling hot, reason was no longer in charge.
* * *
"Ye know what I would've liked? A big, nice catapult."
The talkative Goblin just wouldn’t shut up.
"The boys be running for the wall best they can, but even if they gets there, what they gonna do? Slam their 'eads 'gainst the bricks? And that be if they gets to the wall at all. They's gots crazy wizards up there, blastin' our whiskers off with flamin' bolts o' thunder!"
Dessa looked at the high walls of the Tower, and the battlefield before them. Almost half of his Goblin troops already lay scattered across the field, face down or with their little toes pointed skywards, smoking holes torn in their bodies. As much as he hated to admit it, the Goblin was right. The bombardment from the Tower battlements was brutal and magical, the human Mages lashing out spells and incantations infinitely more sophisticated than anything the Ogre Battle Mage had seen before.
“Oi, boss, look what’s I founds!” the Goblin shrieked beside him. “It be the wreck o’ an ol’ catapult, smashed in ‘nother battle. Lets me tries to makes it work?”
Dessa was just about to answer when a grumbling noise came from the heavy drawbridge. He quickly turned his attention to the opening gate and the army pouring out of it.
The Ogre could not believe his eyes.
The soldiers marching out on the battlefield were not human. Nor were they alchemic war machines or magical creatures from the alps. They were Gremlins, small of posture, big of nose and skin just as green as his. They were puny and weak, even tinier than Goblins, but they were definitely his kin, and they were all in chains. These were not free soldiers of the Tower, but slaves of war, forced into battle, dragging their chains behind them with heavy iron balls attached in the other end. And there were many of them. More than he could count. A great, green mass of broken orgekinds, and they were going to attack him.
Dessa’s blood grew ice cold at the sight of the Gremlin troops. Was this what had happened to the people of his village? His memories from the raid were few and in disarray, but he was certain there had never been this many ogrekinds living in the valley, and undoubtedly this many left alive after the massacre. These Gremlins must have gone through several generations since the raid, bred by their new masters, born into slavery.
This new knowledge hit his morale like an Ice Bolt, and drained out the last of his Bloodlust. Dessa saw clearly that this was not a battle that could be won, and that it never had been. It was time to start thinking of a retreat.
Dessa spun his head and scoured the surroundings. A few paces behind him the industrious Goblin was hammering away on what may once have been some sort of war machine. The rest of the crew was either dead or dying on the battlefield ahead. Dessa bellowed with all his might, “Retreat! Flee best you can!” and started running back towards the hills. His best hope now was that at least a few of the unfortunate Goblins would hear his call and start running with him. He knew chances were slim. Those who hadn’t already been slain were too deep entangled in the fray to be able to escape.
When he had put some distance between himself and the Tower walls Dessa slowed his pace and caught his breath. A stretched out cry came from above, and the Ogre was struck in the back of his head by something small and smelly.
“‘Ello, gov’na” bleated the flying Goblin. “Did’nah gets the catapult all functional-like, but when I sees ye runnin’ I figures I’d try ta launch meself away from the fightin’ at least.”
“You hit me in the head,” Dessa noted while wrestling the green projectile off of his shoulders.
“Pretty good aimin’, eh?”
Carrying the last of the Goblin Pack with him, Dessa left the newfound Tower and began his quick journey back to Morganheim.
* * *
"You did what?!" Shiva roared when Dessa had returned, battle-worn and with but a single soldier left in the ranks. His account of the adventure would have to be repeated at least once more before it was satisfactory.
"I found my lost village," he began.
"Oh, good for you," the warlord snapped. "You found your childhood happy-place. Congratulations. But by the dog, why did you attack?! You hardly even had a proper scout troop, as much as merry gang to keep you company on the road."
"Well..." Dessa hesitated. "I was upset. It was a rather emotional moment."
Why couldn't she be happy for him? He had thought she'd realised how much this meant to him.
"Oh, great!" Shiva stood tall in the cramped tavern. "Someone hurts your feelings and you turn into an irrational maniac. This is exactly the sort of thing that gives Ogres a bad reputation."
At this last statement a lot of offended heads were turned toward the human woman, half the Ogre population of Morganheim already gathered in the tavern, and not to happy at the racial slur. But Shiva did not back down, nor show any sign of regret as to what she had just said. She didn't let her gaze slip from the unfortunate Dessa for a moment, and after a while the Ogres settled back to their own conversations and let the offence go unchallenged. The warlord had just effectively shown that she could insult a whole room full of brutes, each one of them twice her bodyweight and physical power, without the slightest objection, and Dessa's spirits sank even further.
"What does it matter to you?" he suggested defensively. "A handful of young Goblins were lost, but no one you knew. It was only a fraction of the armies of your Stronghold. I haven't lost you anything of importance."
"What does it matter to me? I'll tell you what it matters to me. If this Tower is as strong as you claim it is, they will not want to share a border with an ogrekind outpost. Now that they are aware of our existence it will not be long before they come knocking at our gates, and I bet my boots they will bring more than a few Goblins!"
Dessa looked sour. He hadn't thought of that.
"Now, because of your folly, I'll have to rally up as many troops as I can muster, and start thinking about defending in a siege. I'll even have some boys start digging escape tunnels, in case Morganheim gets completely overrun."
A shameful Dessa began his attempts to formulate an apology, but before he could get a word out the elephantine trumpets of the Citadel towers boomed their omnius alarm, and an Orc came running into the tavern.
"Enemies at the gate!" he shrieked, and after catching his breath. "A Genie and her army. They have everything! Grumpy old wizards, people made of metal, weird snake-ladies!"
"Odin's balls, that was quick," Shiva cursed under her breath. "Do they have magical slippers or what?"
Suddenly there was great disorder. Every Ogre and Orc in the tavern rushed out and up the battlement, each one trying grab a weapon or blunt object on the way. Shiva was the first to reach her position and were already shouting out orders left and right when Dessa arrived and looked down on the besieging army.
The Orc messenger hadn't been exaggerating. The army was huge, and it had creatures in it Dessa hadn't dreamed of. He knew a thing or two about magic, but these people seemed to breathe it, their bodies seemingly consisting of nothing else. He was however relieved to note the absence of enslaved ogrekind among their ranks. The little Gremlins, who he was now sure were purposefully underdeveloped Goblins, were apparently left at home when the Genie set out.
"Hold the gates!" Shiva barked. "And get some Orcs up in the tower with throwing axes. No one is to venture outside the walls until I say so."
A squadron of metallic Golems, mechanical mockeries of the human form, began marching across the plains. The Mages and Genies stayed behind. They were using the un-living atrocities to gauge the Stonghold's power and analyze their response. The Orcs in the towers let fly at the approaching threat.
Even from a distance, Dessa could hear Shiva groan.
"Ignore the Golems, they won't be able to scale the walls," her orders rang clear. "Aim for the magic users covering behind, if you can throw that far. Throw your axes, or boulders if you can lift them. Fire!"
A multitude of throwing axes, rocks, daggers, empty bottles and the occasional helmet rained down from the battlements. Some reached as far as their intended targets, but many projectiles hailed down over the Golems. Almost a third of the mechanised squadron was destroyed or dented in the brutal onslaught, and a joyous cheer came from the Goblins behind the walls.
The Golems pushed on and reached the outer walls of the Stronghold. As Shiva had predicted, they were too heavy and stiff to be able climb, and their charge was effectively blocked. Orcs and Goblins continued to wreck down rocks and debris from their elevated position, and the Golems were heavily decimated.
As Dessa looked across the battlefield he noticed that the Genies did not seem particularly alarmed. Their leader, the Genie Hero in charge of the attack, began to move her hands in an intricate pattern, and even Dessa's rather blunt sense of magic could feel surges of energy drawn from the heavens. He glanced at Shiva and saw that she had noticed as well.
"Aim for the damned Genies!" Shiva shrieked, though she must know as well as the Ogre that they were out of range.
A bright flash was emitted from the Attacker, and Dessa felt the ground beneath his feet slowly starting to rumble. The Genie had summoned a mighty Earthquake, and the land itself shook the Stronghold walls mercilessly. Huge portions of the fortifications were shaken loose, and left gaping holes in the defences. Dessa watched in horror as the Golem squadron began to march into the town. He heard from Shiva's lips a curse more foul than anything she had uttered before.
"We won't be able to hold the town," she said grimly.
"I know," Dessa answered, at loss for words. "I'm sorry."
An exceptionally dirty Goblin crept up to them.
"'Scuse me, warlord. The 'scape tunnel be ready now. Most o' the diggin' was already done, so me an' the boys just opened 'er up."
"The Escape Tunnel," Shiva sighed in relief and sprinted towards the centre of the town, rallying Orcs and Goblin around her as she went.
Word spread quickly, and all of Morganheim were soon getting ready to leave their town and escape with their lives. Dessa made his way towards the Tunnel, fighting off invading Golems on the way, and tried to get as many Goblins as possible to run in the right direction.
"Bad news all around, eh?" he heard squeaking from near his knees. "Things sure 'ave been rough since we found that odd stone map of yours."
It was the Goblin he had brought with him back to Morgainheim, the one who had launched himself through the air using a half-functional catapult.
"You again?" he grunted and lifted the little creature onto his broad shoulders. "You'll go far if you keep your head clear and firmly stuck to your neck."
* * *
The mood was sour on the gloomy walk through the Tunnel. Most of Morganheim's population was marching single file in the the darkness, while their former home was in flames behind them. The green-skinned people would always opt to leave their homes behind rather than to burn with them. That was a condition for survival in these harsh lands. As long as you're still alive you can always find new material comfort. That did not mean, however, that the ogrekind went happily. The loss of Morganheim Stronghold weighed heavily on their back, significantly heavier than the small provisions they have managed to bring with them.
Dessa mourned with his kin. He had never considered Morganheim his home, but he had friends there, and people he cared about had just lost the place they were born in. As he walked in the cramped pathway, sleeping Goblin on his left shoulder, he thought about lost homes and the brutality of not having anything to return to. A fate, he suspected guiltily, he might now have brought upon his friends as well. But for what it's worth, the Tunnel had saved their lives. He contemplated the niftyness of Escape Tunnels, and softly, drowsily an idea was taking shape in his mind.
The secret path emerged in a secluded canyon, and Shiva was gathering the ogrekind around her, counting heads. The hapless soldiers were setting up camp for the night, shaken by the sudden turn of events.
"Looks like we're both homeless now" Shiva said to Dessa, as they were sharing a campfire later that night. The scorn in her voice was hard to miss. "Let's see you find your way out of this, pathfinder."
"What do you intend to do?" Dessa asked.
"Hartgrim is the nearest Stronghold. We'll head there for protection, and then maybe regroup. I doubt we'll be able to retake Morganheim without support from Sandflash in the south."
"I have another idea, if you'll hear me out," Dessa ventured. "We can claim the Tower in the north, and then reclaim Morganheim from there."
"Will you please stop with your delusional fantasies," Shiva groaned. "I know you want your home back more than anything, but your utter failure to see how impossible that is has gotten us into enough trouble already. Maybe I should forget about Morganheim altogether, and set out on a new campaign from Hartgrim, just to show you how it is done."
"Hear me out though, I have a plan. All you need to do is to march this army up to their gates and lay out a siege. You don't need to actually attack, or even move within range from their spells."
"And what? Just sit there until we all grow old and die?"
"No, just wait for a little while. I will take a small troop and solve all our problems. Trust me?"
"It's a hell of a lot of trust you are asking for."
"Please," Dessa said. "You know I'm good. I can travel distances others think impossible, and find places no one else can find. You have seen me do it."
"I know you're a good pathfinder, but this plan of yours is ludacris. Are you obsessed with attacking this town with much too few units?"
"It will be different this time, I promise. And besides... I didn't get a chance before to tell you about my findings..."
Shiva looked up, wary to become too optimistic. "What did you find?"
"The Grail. Well, not the thing itself, but I know where it is buried. It is not far from the Tower."
"Oh, you have to be joking!" Shive bursted out. "Are you just saying that to manipulate me into going through with your mad plan?"
"No, it's true. Maybe I'm so fond of this place because the Grail has been buried there all along, bestowing its blessed influence on the lands."
Shiva bit her lip.
"If it were anyone but you saying all this I would have punched your face in," she said. "But you have proved time and again that you are trustworthy and clever, as long as you keep your head cold and your blood calm."
Dessa flinched a little.
"Okay, I will march north with this army," the human warlord exclaimed. "Anything else you need?"
"Well... I do have a specific Goblin I want in my crew..."
* * *
Dessa was squatting, hiding in the bushes. Beside him lurked his Goblin friend.
"Oi there, big boss. What gargantuan heap o' crap has ye gotten us into this time? I sees this big ol' army marching to their death, and here be us; takin' a leak among the hedgehogs."
"We are looking for a way in," Dessa whispered, eyes darting rapidly across the terrain.
The Tower dwarfed the sparse trees in the area. Dessa's crew had trekked the mountainsides behind the town and continued on small goat-paths among the alps. Dessa trusted his sense of direction, as well as half-formed memories of childhood adventures, to lead them right.
"Oh. A way in," the Goblin rolled his eyes. "Why did'nah I thinks o' that?"
The alps were uninhabited and hoarse. Traversing the land was difficult and finding anything behind bushes and rocks seemed unlikely. But Dessa knew difficult terrain well. He had already formed a clear understanding of the area, and he knew what to look for. He focused on rocks which were loose, and on vegetation that seemed isolated from the rest of the undergrowth. He had always had a knack for finding hidden things.
After a little time of poking around and lifting loose rocks Dessa gave a triumphant cry. The place might be a Tower for humans and genies now, but in the old days it had been an ogrekind settlement, and ogrekind always have escape routes planned. Pushing a large boulder to the side, Dessa stared into the opening of an old Escape Tunnel.
"Feather me up and call me 'chicken'," the Goblin gasped. "Be that what I thinks it be?"
"This secret route should lead us straight into the Tower. I doubt they even know this pathway exists."
The Goblin contemplated the gravity of their discovery.
"Well, that be all fine an' dandy, but we be standing here again, with only a few sneaky Goblins at our back. Me brain is tryin' to tell me it has a memory of this exact situation. Ye're not gonna attack, are ye?"
"Oh no," the ogre promised. "This is only the first half of my plan."
The tunnel was shorter than that of Morganheim, but older and poorly maintained. The confused Goblins were gibbering among themselves the whole way, but at least they had the sense to keep their voices down. After a short walk they reached a sturdy trapdoor, which, heavy as it was, Dessa pushed open with little effort.
The Ogre snuck silently up onto the still courtyard. They emerged in a narrow alley, and Dessa looked around for his destination. The Workshop was across the square, but he was looking for the back door. Creeping down the alleyway Dessa spied an ugly Obsidian Gargoyle guarding the back entrance to the building. Suppressing his Ogre instincts he calmly eased up behind the Gargoyle and grabbed it with large hands. He pulverized the stone creature's head in a swift blow, and the unfortunate guard was none the wiser. Dessa signalled to the Goblins to follow.
The invaders proceeded through the door and entered the Workshop. Dessa knew what to expect, but the Goblins all stopped dead and stared wide eyed on the hundreds of miserable Gremlins chained to the workbenches. The little creatures all stopped working and gazed back in silence.
Dessa hastily scanned the hall for more guards and, finding none, climbed on top of a table.
"My green brothers!" the huge Ogre roared to the room. "For too long you have been kept in slavery! The time has come for you to rise and claim your freedom!"
He gestured to the Goblins to start breaking the Gremlins' chains. The crew was only too happy to help freeing their miniscule cousins and quickly spread out among the benches.
"We have come to break your bonds! My friend is outside the castle walls right now. She has an army strong enough to capture the whole town, if she only gets our support! It is time for us ogrekind to finally reclaim our lost homeland and once again be our own masters!"
Riot ensued. Dessa had feared the slaves would be broken and hard to motivate, but the Gremlins needed little convincing. A little of the good old Ogre Bloodlust might have spilled out through that speech. A collective shriek rose from the former slaves, and the floor shook with the running of tiny feet. The green wave streamed out on the courtyard and Dessa hurried after them.
The town square was utter pandemonium. Gargoyles and Nagas, until recently posted on the wall and watching the army outside, rapidly turned around to meet the new Gremlin threat from inside. A thick cloud of dust had been trampled up by the fighters and filled the air, occasionally flashing colorful with magical discharges.
Dessa's Goblin friend sprang to life beside him, and pointed eagerly at an abandoned ballista standing across the courtyard. That Goblin certainly had an eye for spotting ballistic siege weapons. Did he constantly look for them, wherever he went?
"Oi, let's hijack it!" he shrieked. "Can I, can I, can I?"
"You know what," Dessa said to the eager Goblin. "I'm putting you in command of twenty-four Gremlins. Take the troop and the ballista, and hold your ground here. Don't let anyone past."
"I will nae disappoint ya!"
Dessa turned to leave, but paused when a thought struck him.
"What is your name, Goblin?"
"Name's Gurnisson," the Goblin proclaimed. "Ain't much, but it's mine."
"Gurnisson. You are a Hero now, so take good care of your Gremlins and your War Machine."
"Ay ay, boss!"
After causing some havoc within the walls, Dessa's next task was to get the gates open and let Shiva in with the rest of the army. He zigzagged between cliques of combating Gremlins and armed himself with a large wooden log along the way. He fought his way toward the gatehouse, crumbling Gargoyles and Golems whenever he got the chance.
As he climbed the wall and looked over the battlements he saw that Shiva had indeed been true to her word. The field outside was crowded with fierce Orcs and with Goblins mounted on large wolves. She had done that special thing she could do to lure Rocs and Thunderbirds down from the skies, and she had even persuaded a group of Cyclops to leave their mountain homes. It was a formidable army she had mustered. All it needed now was a way in.
Dessa headed for the gatehouse, intent on sabotaging the mechanism controlling the drawbridge. As he approached his goal his path was suddenly blocked. A Naga emerged from the doorway, the skin of her human body white as marble, the scales of her snake tail glistening in the sun. Dessa gulped and took a firmer grip of his club. This was no ordinary Naga, but one of the Naga Queens. She wore a crown of ornate silver, and each of her six arms was armed with a curved blade. Standing erect on her snake body, she was taller even than the Ogre himself.
"You are the one who agitated the Gremlins," she said, and her voice was simultaneously the song of birds and the poisonous hiss of a cobra pit.
Dessa racked his brain for spells that could help him out. Something to protect his flesh from all those sharp blades? The Naga Queen slithered towards him, and raised her swords to attack.
But just as the blow would fall the Naga Queen shrieked as her chest was pierced by a huge bolt. She dropped her swords and wriggled in agony, with the iron pole stuck through her body like a fishhook. Dessa looked down from the battlement and saw Gurnisson wave happily from his ballista. Golems and Mages lay scattered around his choke-point. Dessa waved back. That Goblin would go places.
Dessa wasted no time. He ran to the drawbridge mechanism and started smashing it with the wooden log he had picked up. The machinery was no match for the Orge's strength, and presently he heard chains rattling as the drawbridge fell open. Outside, Shiva was quick to react. The Wolf Riders where the first to flood through the open gates, but they were soon followed by Orcs and Goblins, all eager for a fight.
* * *
Betrayed by their Gremlin slaves and assaulted by Shiva's army, the Tower was soon overrun and defeated. Dessa stayed back as Shiva marched around the courtyard shouting orders. The wizards of the Tower hadn't had any escape plans prepared, and they had fought bravely to the last man. Large portions of their armies had been alchemical constructs anyway, unable to feel fear or care for their own well-being.
"I'll be damned," Shiva said to Dessa when the situation was under control. "We were risking a lot on that plan of yours, but it came through in the end."
Dessa nodded.
"These Gremlins... Are they...?"
"My kind, yes. I saw them when I found this place. They are the descendants of the free people living in this valley in my youth, beaten into submission."
"That's horrible," Shiva said, as the last of the Mages were being crucified and burned alive by the Orcs.
"So, you got your home back," she said after a while. "What will you do now?"
"I'll stay here," the weary traveler answered. "Rebuild. Gather strength. See to the Gremlins, and give them new lives. I will fortify and expand this town to the point where I'll never have to leave it again."
“What is this I hear? Are you giving up on your life on the road, Pathfinder?”
“I never wanted to travel,” Dessa sighed. “I never wanted to see the world. All I ever wanted was a home.”
Shiva was silent for a while. Then she said:
“Well, you got one now, big fella. It'll be good to have you safeguarding the north. I trust we can form an alliance of arms? With Morganheim as Capitol?"
Dessa eyed her.
"Morganheim is still in the enemy's hands."
"But not for long. I'm marching out again tomorrow.”
“Do you think you can take back your Stronghold?”
“Certainly. We have just sacked their Capitol town. Without this support from the north Morganheim is just an isolated outpost. My forces will be well rested after a night here. And besides, I’ll have one more advantage...”
Shiva looked at Dessa expectantly. The Orge tried to understand what the warlord was hinting at.
“I’ll have the Grail you have promised me,” Shiva said finally.
“Oh, right,” Dessa exhaled. “Yes, I’ll know where it is buried. I will show you.”
“Tomorrow, my friend. Tonight we feast and rest. We have much ahead of us.”
* * *
“I will build a Warlord's Monument in Morganheim, you know,” Shiva said to Dessa much later that night. “Once the Stronghold is our Capitol again, and the Grail is safely stored there. I will build it in your honor, old wanderer. In the honor of Dessa, the Traveler Returned.”