The roar of oncoming riders stopped the fight. Both humans and Gnolls alike turned toward the new threat. Despite their numbers, the dwarves resembled a mighty horde coming down to end everything. Dust from their Warboars’ hoofs created a large cloud. Their shining golden hair and weapons added to the effect. The confusion didn’t take long but allowed the riders to close half the distance.

One of the monsters barked something in their language, and a dozen of his kin answered. They dropped down to all fours and raced toward the oncoming attackers. He knew they had to finish the humans quickly to face a new threat. He almost turned back to slaughter the civilians when his vanguard was annihilated. One second they were sprinting toward the riders. The next, a column of flame erupted from the attackers. It raced toward his soldiers and exploded in a roaring inferno. He heard squeals of pain, and the wind brought in the smell of burning meat. From twelve of his fastest pups, none came the other way unscathed. Half of them didn’t come at all.

Horn smiled as he saw the result of his empowered Flame Strike. He finished the attribute book yesterday, and the effects were already showing. The flames were hotter, the size of the explosion larger, and the added bonus from his skill level made fire cling to the enemies like napalm. A single strike took out most of the Gnolls coming to intercept his riders, and the remaining few were too disoriented to present any threat. He rode past them, slicing with his axe. The empowered weapon neatly cut one of the paws off. In a blink of the eye, they were through. A dozen yards ahead, the main group of over twenty hyenas awaited.

The dwarven charge took them by surprise, and a mere moment later, both sides clashed. Dwarves didn’t face any organized resistance, diving deep into the furry crowd. Horn was in the thick of it, slashing left and right. Snouty added to the fray, goring the monsters with her tusks, slamming her body into them. One by one, the Gnolls were overpowered. Their leader tried to rally his remaining warriors. Horn noticed that and pushed mana in another Flame Strike, this time using his ability to shape the inferno. He concentrated all of its power on the small space, burning the dog to a crisp.

The clash was done in a matter of a minute. After the initial shock, the humans joined the fight, throwing themselves at the Gnolls. Most didn’t have real weapons, but they compensated it with fury. Horn saw one of the women jump on the monster's back with just a long sewing needle, stabbing it rapidly in hyena’s neck.

Seeing the situation under control, Horn took stock of his troops. One of his dwarves was on the ground, with a large gash on his side. Through his party interface, Horn knew he was still hanging there, probably using the heal from the Resilient perk. A quick Cure Wounds stabilized his warrior. Beside him, the rest of his squad was bloodied but alive. He glanced toward the main battle and saw that Ingrid’s reinforcements had arrived just in the nick of time. Her heavily armored warriors obliterated the whole flank of the Gnollish army, giving the respite for the remaining humans. Yet, the battle wasn’t finished, and the outcome was unsure.

“Lightforge! On me! It's time to finish that!” Horn commanded, turning toward the main fight, but one thing bugged him. The wounded dwarf wouldn’t be able to join them, so he added, “If any of you know trade language, tell these people that if anything happens to our wounded, there’ll be consequences!”

Ingrid looked around. Her Valkyries were holding, but the hyenas recovered surprisingly quickly. Split their force in two to keep both threats engaged. She was sure they would break as soon as she hit her flank, but someone was holding them in place. The Gnolls weren’t famous for their courage, yet they listened to their alpha as pack animals. She just couldn’t find him. She stabbed another one with her trident, releasing a small charge into the beast. It jerked uncontrollably as lighting cooked its insides. The family heirloom was powerful, but it needed a long time to recharge, and it was almost spent.

Thumper jumped sideways, avoided impaling as one of the hounds stabbed with a wicked spear. With a swift motion, she adjusted her grip and sent her weapon flying. It struck true, straight in the chest of the beast, releasing another lighting. It fell to the ground, smoking. Its kin threw itself on unarmed Ingrid, but with a short bark in arcane language, the trident reappeared in her hand. The unlucky beast impaled itself, almost yanking the weapon out of her hands. She pulled with all her might, freeing the weapon.

A roar of fury coming from the middle of monsters’ ranks got her attention. She saw almost a head taller Gnoll. It had chainmail on his chest, held a massive fiery sword. Flames danced over the blade but didn’t seem to bother the beast. Around him, other Gnolls grew in size before her eyes. Their fur ruffled, their eyes glowed with a red hue, and they threw themselves at the nearby humans with frenzy. The line, just a second ago holding steady, was shattered in a matter of seconds. The collapse of one flank would mean quick defeat. Ingrid stood in stirrups and shouted, “Dawn Riders! We’re punching through, advance!”

Only a few voices answered. Others were busy fighting for their lives. Five gathered around her, and they pushed through the enemy line. A few of the enraged Gnolls charged to meet them. A furious clash began, with the blood of both sides spraying. Screams of anguish, roars of battle cries, and barking of hyenas erupted all around. The monsters did their job – stopping the dwarven riders. They locked into a stalemate. Ingrid knew it would spell their defeat.

Further up, the remaining horde was slaughtering the wavering humans. In a few moments, they would route them and then focus on her and her riders. She cursed loudly, gathering all her strength to break the impasse, but that wasn’t enough.

Horn rode with his dwarves toward the main clash. He saw the change in the dynamics as a score of Gnolls went berserk. They crashed into the thin human line, plowing through it. He saw Ingrid’s forces tied up on the other side and knew they couldn’t help in time. Not slowing a bit, he raised his axe and shouted, “Lightforge! Let’s show these dogs where’s their place!”

“Lightforge!” voices replied.

They slammed into the fight. For a moment, the humans weren’t sure on which side they were. Some took a swing at the new arrivals, but a thin voice cut through the noise. What Horn could imagine were orders rallied the scattered warriors. His dwarves pushed forward, creating a buffer between monsters and humans. The enrage Gnolls were an even enemy. Only buffs gave his riders a bit of advantage. However, they were outnumbered. The fight came into a gridlock. The sides were balanced, both bleed and paid for every inch. A minute of bloody fighting was enough for humans to restore some resemblance of order. They pushed back at the beasts, and with their help, Horn’s riders took the initative.

One of the enemies, towering over the others, saw the situation and howled with frustration. That had to be some kind of signal as the remaining Gnolls started running. Seeing that, Horn shouted, “Keep at them!”

The dwarves gave chase, but the beasts just dropped their arms, dropped to all fours, and sprinted for their lives. His tired Warboars couldn’t keep up, and soon, the enemy opened the distance. “Enough! Let the dogs run,” Horn shouted, spatting.

Skimming over his people, he saw a few missing. Out of the dozen, only six remained. They slowly trotted back toward the battlefield. He saw Ingrid riding toward him.

They met in the middle, “Good fight, Lady Dawn, was it?”

“Pumpkin, cut it out. It isn’t the time for that,” She replied, wiping blood from her forehead.

“We’re observed,” He said, nodding toward the humans in the distance, “They should know who they’re dealing with. You earned that title, over and over again.”

She sighed before replying, “You’re getting annoyingly competent,” a chuckle escaped her lips as she added, “Keep it up, and I’ll have to reconsider your mental capabilities.”

He laughed at the comment, “Me dumb brute, you smelly boar lady!” he mocked.

“Yes, you are,” She said, joining him side by side as they approached the humans.

The defenders looked miserable, most of them standing by sheer willpower. However, they measured the dwarves with worry in their eyes. As the two riders on the biggest boars they had ever seen approached, the line slightly waivered. When they started laughing while speaking in their harsh tongue, some whines of fear escaped humans.

The two dwarves approached, talking in their language. No one present understood it. Joran, the squad leader of Arvanti, tightened his grip on the sword, but he knew they were at their rescuers' mercy. His people were barely standing, most were wounded, and he didn’t even want to think what happened back at the camp. These dwarves came in the nick of time, saving them, but was he wondered – was that just pushing back the inevitable?

One of the riders, a woman, said in clean trade language, “Where is your leader?”

Joran was a caravan guard for almost twenty years before the collapse. During his journeys, he learned the language, so he replied, “Mayor Gibbins is tending wounded back at the camp, esteemed dwarf.”

He heard a quick exchange in throaty dwarfish, ended with both of them laughing, when the woman said, “Then lead on, we have much to discuss.”

“Esteemed dwarf, you’re going places, Ingrid,” Horn chuckled as they slowly rode behind the terrified human. “In this speed, we’ll be calling you Empress before weeks end.”

“Pumpkin, stop fooling around,” She replied, holding back laughter, “We should be presentable leaders of dwarven clans, not the pair of giggly teenagers.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll be proud chieftain. I think we’re almost there.” Horn said as they cleared the first row of tents.

In the middle of the camp, a few dozen wounded were being taken care of. People hurried around, bringing water, cleaning the wounds. He saw the familiar woman with a long needle stitching wounds on one of his dwarves. Between the humans, he saw four of his own, spread on the blankets. Seeing it, he dismounted, got in the middle of the gathering, and cast Radiant Blast, the flash of light, spooked some humans. A few even grabbed their weapons, but seeing it harmless, they just stood at the ready.

However, the small healing effect from the spell improved the wounded around tremendously. A few bleedings stopped, some color returned to their faces, and a few even regained curiousness. Horn didn’t stop there and cast Cure Wounds as soon as the cooldown allowed. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t hear Ingrid saying, “So much for a proud Chieftain, but a caring savior has its own merits.”

Half an hour later, Horn was sitting in one of the tents, with Ingrid at his side. Opposite them was a middle-aged man with spectacles on his nose and the familiar soldier who led them into the camp. The mayor turned out to be one of the humans treating the wounded. He even helped Horn, keeping the pressure on a bleeding wound while he cast Cure Wounds. When they finished the triage, there was finally time for a short introduction, after which humans invited them for a meal.

They entered the tent, sitting down, while the meal was brought, and an awkward silence then fell. All of them measured each other while slowly eating a buffalo stew. Horn was sure that Gibbins was a fellow player, but they couldn’t easily communicate as neither of them knew the trade language. Horn used his Lore skill on both, getting Administrator level 10-15 and Caravan Captain level 10-15.

He was surprised to see a non-combat class, but it made sense. His adventures so far were very combat-focused, but he enjoyed being in the thick of the fight. Other players preferred a macro game, working through a long-term strategy. Horn would bet that Gibbins class gave some pretty impressive bonuses to his tribe. The thin frame, and a bit pale color of his skin, only reinforced Horn’s assumptions. Despite on physical level seeing as a weakling, the man radiated an aura of confidence. Horn’s eyes told him he wasn’t impressive, but his mind wanted to agree to whatever the man said. Either this was some crazy skill or Gibbins pumped all his attribute points in Presence.

As they finished their meal. The discussion began. It was slow, with Ingrid and Joran translating. They repeated the introductions, and Gibbins thanked them for the rescue and asked what their plans were.

“We come in peace. The herd behind the hill is our only interest.” Horn began cautiously.

“I’m glad to hear that. I believe our interests are similar. We also need the food and leather they can provide, and there’s enough for everyone.” Gibbins replied through Joran's lips.

“What do you propose?”

“I say that we should set up a camp together. Between your fighters and my workers, we can hunt in peace and share the bounty.”

Horn wondered if he should say that there was a column of almost a hundred of his people coming this way but decided to hide that for the time being. Instead, he said, “What’s in this for me? We can set our own camp and do the work by ourselves. Why should we share and give you more protection?”

“There’s strength in numbers, together we’re more than separate,” Gibbins answered,

“So far, we’ve done well on our own. It’s you that have a problem.”

“Yes, but do you think you can live in this world by yourself? The Gnolls are just a beginning. Coalitions are already in the making. My scouts saw Gnoll chieftain talking with a group of Wolfkin. We’ve spotted Orcs and Ogres south of here working together. No one is safe alone. I want to create a trading city, one where all can meet and be free, but I’ll admit I cannot do that alone.”

Horn pondered what he heard. The idea wasn’t alien to him. He wanted to do something similar, but even more. Why end on a single city? The plan was sound, but seeing the pitiful state of Gibbins tribe, he doubted the man could make it. Deciding, he said so, “I admire the wish for a utopia, but you don’t have the manpower to make it. I won’t join on a failed venture, tell me, why should I risk my dwarves trying to keep you alive?”

As Joran translated, Gibbins began speaking quickly. The two men went back and forth for a while. The soldier even shouted a bit, but the player cut him off. Finally, Joran spoke, “What you see here is a third of my people. We’ve already claimed a Soul Well in a secure location and are building a city. It’s two days journey from here. The Gnolls were a surprise, one that could have cost us a lot, but we’re much stronger than you think. I don’t propose you take care of us. I propose it the other way. Your calvary is powerful, but few, join us and prosper.”

It was Horn’s turn to discuss with Ingrid. He asked for her opinion and count of their men. They agreed that there could be maybe up to a hundred twenty humans in the camp. If that was the third, it was still a manageable threat. Horn’s clan alone was twice the number, and with Ingrid warriors and Herrak’s adventurers, they probably outnumber Gibbins’ force three to one. But, having an ally nearby would be desirable. Especially if he could help feed his people, without replying, Horn just sent a request.

Chieftain Horn Skysmith of the Lightforge clan asks for the non-aggression pact with Mayor Samuel Gibbins of the Free City of Arvanti.