Almost.
But far more dwarves were dying, and soon, a gap had been punched through the line, which promptly caused most of the remaining dwarves to break and flee into the mines. A handful remained, either out of stubbornness or self-sacrifice, but they were soon struck down.
"After them, don't let up!" Darcius shouted, pointing his bloodstained sword at the backs of those who fled.
They pursued the dwarves down into the mines. Every now and then they met pockets of resistance, in which miners and guards somehow managed to reform and make another stand, but each time they were driven back. "That's enough!" Darcius shouted at one point, raising a fist for his men to stop, and then further orders ensued.
The prisoners were rounded up and locked inside one of the warehouses on the surface. Sentries were dispatched to keep an eye on the sole path leading up the mountain from the east. Fine dwarven weapons were confiscated and taken as trophies. Food, ale, water, and black powder were stockpiled.
A barrel of black powder was brought down, to the point where Darcius first called his men to a stop, and it was promptly detonated, collapsing the tunnel and blocking it off. Another barrel was detonated further back. If the Dwarven Black Guard wished to return the way they came, they would have to dig through no less than two cave-ins. The minecart tunnel leading back to far-off Keldagrim was collapsed as well.
"Lord Daquarius, the mines are ours," Darcius reported through the crystal. Already his men were searching out places to make their beds, and a few had already helped themselves to a cask of dwarven stout.
Meanwhile, the dwarves who had escaped death or capture continued their flight through the caves, towards Falador, where they would inevitably reveal news of the outpost's capture.
Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.
06-Apr-2019 18:52:44
- Last edited on
06-Apr-2019 19:05:43
by
NotFishing