One by one, the last great strongholds of the Dwarven People were overrun by the teeming hordes of the Rattan Under-Empire. As their cities burned and their people were either butchered or enslaved, hope fled from the Children of the Stone. With each fortress-City that fell, the odds of the culture of the Dwarven people surviving diminished, and eventually there were but a comparative handful of fortress-cities left untaken. Out of the nearly two hundred and fifty bastions of Dwarven might that existed before the invasion, only thirty-six still remained in Dwarven hands.

While these thirty-six strongholds remained intact, the only reason they had managed to do so up to this point was that they were all interconnected. Rather than being truly independent from each other, the cities were attached to each other via elevated pathways and winding walls. The thirty-six cities were therefor less like independent settlements and more like individual districts in a much, much larger settlement. They all still (mostly) identified as being independent from each other, but in truth they were more like incredibly small states in a larger nation.

As they were filled with prideful and arrogant Dwarves, they knew they were better than everyone else. However, against the horde that was growing in scale outside its walls, there was no denying that things were grim.

Each day that passed saw the massive fortress-city face ever more perilous odds, and eventually those that remained began to give up. Thankfully for them, the Dwarven Kings and their elite had made a crucial error in their actions during their evacuation. They had taken only the hidden escape routes, not the public ones. This fortress-city that yet remained unclaimed could still access the surface, but there was a catch.

The Kings had forced any non-dwarf to vacate all of the fortress-cities long ago. In their haughty pride and inflated view of themselves, anyone who was not a Dwarf could never step foot in the Under-Kingdoms. This decree had lasted for generations and was so ingrained in Dwarven tradition that almost no one questioned if bringing surface-dwellers down to aid them would be wise, let alone using the entrances/ exits to escape their doom.

Almost no one, but not everyone.

The merchants who had routinely ventured outside of their underground homes to trade with the towns of Men and other races that sprung up outside the gates knew that the people outside were strong and always looking for a bit of coin. It would be child’s play to spend a bit of said coin in the Adventurer’s Guild to post an Urgent Quest. They only needed a few more bodies to keep the rats busy while they managed to convince everyone to flee to the surface. And while Dwarves would indeed be irritated that they had to break a royal decree, the more pragmatic of them realized it was either that or extinction.

So, after much wheeling and dealing, the bargain was struck and an Urgent Quest unlike any other was posted in every Guild Hall on the surface.

…

“Do you think this is legit?” A warrior with two axes at his hips asked.

“It was commissioned by the Longbeard Brothers International Bank, the Ironbreakers Mining Company, the Gold Standard Merchant Conglomerate, the Bugman Brewing Corporation and nearly every other Dwarf-run company in the world. You would never be able to put that on a Quest without it being 100% true. If you did try it otherwise, you would be laughed out at best and wind up dead in an alley at worst.” A Paladin armed with a Great Maul responded with a general lack of emotion, as if he was merely reading facts from a report.

A party of Adventurers were looking over a Quest that had been posted just a few hours ago. A few of the members seemed to be thrilled with the idea of taking it, while others were not. The group comprised of a male Swordsman, a male Spearman, a male twin axe wielding Warrior, a female Archer, a female Generalist Mage and their leader, the Healer/ Great Maul Wielding male Paladin. They had managed to hold their own and the total Rank of the party was mid- B Rank at their worst and low A Rank at their best. Due to Guild regulations they were not an A Rank Party, but if they joined this quest, they would easily make it to said Rank.

“But seriously, look at the reward offered. 1 Gold Coin for D Ranks to participate, 10 Gold for C Ranks, 50 Gold for B Ranks, 300 for A Ranks and a whole 5 Platinum Coins for S Ranks! Plus, you get the bragging rights from having seen the Under-Kingdoms firsthand! Who wouldn’t take this?!” The Werean Archer pointed her finger ecstatically at the part of the Quest where it stated the reward, her vulpine tail twitching in anticipation.

“Any sane man. They are offering this because they are in deep shit. It would be best if we ignored this. Even if it knocked us down a peg in the rankings, it is better to live than die pointlessly.” The Swordsman answered the Archer in a gruff voice. He had seen Quests similar to this one, posted by the doomed and the damned to try and keep themselves afloat at the cost of others.

“Still, we could do a lot with that money. Depending on the outcome, we could each walk away with quite the hefty sum. We are just a single Quest away from A Rank, and this would not only get us there but count as more than a quarter of the Quests needed to push us into S Rank.” The Mage countered, her perfectly cared-for golden hair barely able to hide her long, pointed, elven ears.

“Come on, guys. We are so close to getting a promotion! Besides, it’s not like they would just send us to die, right? They have to keep their reputation intact and sending the best of the best to die would make them look really bad.” The Spearman tried to bend backwards and look at ease, but his massive metal-rimmed wooden tower shield prevented him from taking the pose he wanted and forced the Dwarf/ Werean half-breed to adjust his position or risk falling over.

“Then we’ll put it to a vote. All in favor of accepting the Urgent Quest, raise your right hand; all in favor of rejecting it, keep your hands down. As usual I will belong to whichever side has more votes. Now, Vote!”

The Axeman, Spearman, Archer and Mage raised their hands while the Swordsman kept his down.

“Then it is decided; we go and accept the quest. Anyone who wants out can leave the party at this moment. Anyone want to leave?”

No one left or said that they would.

“Then we fight as one, just as we always have. Come Hell or High Water, Come Death or Destruction, The Heroes of Hogansville will always come out on top!”

The Paladin raised his massive Great Maul in his hand and the rest of his party did the same with their weapon(s). They and so many other Adventurers had no idea what they were about to throw themselves into.

…

In a dark, smoke-filled room, the heads of numerous Dwarf-run conglomerates were discussing the Quest they had posted.

“So, how many have signed up?”

“About 3680 D Ranks, 1230 C Ranks, 490 A Ranks and 19 S Ranks. That number is individuals, not parties. If it were just parties, then the number would be quite a bit lower. Thankfully, the number of individual sign-ups isn’t that much of a threat to our finances. The fact that roughly 70% of the number of Adventurers that signed up are in parties of four or more means that We only need to pay a substantially smaller amount. They are just stupid Adventurers and did not even bother to check that we did not specify that we would be paying based on Party Rank, not individual Rank.”

“And the number of mercenaries?”

“We managed to get about three companies to sign on, totaling roughly 5,000 people of various races. We managed to get fairly good contracts with the biggest groups, and add in the fact that all of their members are being sent then I have faith that even if they manage to secure a victory we will be able to pay quite a bit less than expected. They will likely lose anywhere between 80-100% of their number, mercenaries and Adventurers alike. This means that we will be facing far less of a financial loss than even the most pessimistic of estimates. If they try to get their ‘just due’ they will lack the numbers and resources to do so, hence we may simply be able to alter the Quest Rewards at the last moment.”

“Good. Good. The less we lose in this whole endeavor the better.”

They all laughed as they realized how much money they would be saving by sending these Humans, Elves and Werean to their deaths. It was a pity that some Dwarves would be sent as well, but they had made their choice and sided with the other races rather than siding with their own kind.

“So, what are the projected earnings from our new ventures?”

“Quite high. But what else is new?”

A single Dwarf amongst them let out a chuckle and passed a sheet of paper around.

“Are you serious?!”

“How the ever-loving Stone did you manage to do that?!”

The lone Dwarf grinned in the hazy room and leaned back in his seat.

“I have connections.”

“Connections to the Tyrant of Red Mountain?! Are you serious?!”

“I pulled a lot of strings to get them to answer this call. Lost a lot of favors in the process too. But, if they do come, which they will, we will be killing two birds with one stone. The more Red Mountain Bandits that die down there, the fewer that are left to bother us. I see this as a total Win for all of us, no matter how you shake it!”

“Can they be trusted?”

“Of course not. But they will die against the rats all the same. 15,000 Bandits dying in the depths means 15,000 less problems to worry about. Maybe we can even seize the Red Mountain after this!”

“Then so be it. This will certainly help our people, AND our wallets.”

The figures in the room laughed for a while before resuming the meeting.

“Then let us move on to the next item on the agenda…”

With that, the meeting continued, with none save one of them realizing the truth of the situation they were now in.

…

“Vaile-damned gullible fools.” One of the figures in the dark, smoke-filled room thought to himself. “No one can move the Tyrant of Red Mountain save the Tyrant himself.” He clutched a signet ring that was on his right pinky finger. “No idea why we of Red Mountain are moving like this, but there is surely a good reason behind it. The Tyrant never acts in a manner like this without reason, and who am I to know the reasons that the Boss comes up with for things?”

He had been captured at a young age (for a Dwarf) and held prisoner for several years as his father and mother had scrambled to get him back. Later, due to his connections to the Red Mountain Bandits, he learned that the same people who he now shared a room with were the ones responsible for him being captured. They intended to use that to gain control of his family’s business and fortunes as well as use it as a reason to invade Red Mountain itself. They failed utterly in all of their objectives, but he never forgot his grudge against them. The stupid bastards had no idea that he knew of their actions.

As for why the Tyrant, the Boss of the Red Mountain Bandits, was sending people to fight? All he knew was that The Boss had a hell of a beef with the Under Kingdoms that had started quite recently. Unfortunately for him, or perhaps quite fortunately for him, he was neither high enough in the ranks nor was he senior enough to be privy to such information, so all he could do was speculate.

“What in the world could make the Boss so mad that they would send 15,000 of his most powerful elites to make sure that no one escaped? Well, I won’t be able to know anytime soon, so I might as well not even care.”

As was the Code for the Red Mountain Bandits; Loyalty to the Tyrant and their Savior comes before all others. He knew better than to openly question the Boss, lest he be seen as a traitor to the group and eliminated. After many years of reeducation following his capture at their hands, he now couldn’t care less if his ancestral homeland was facing oblivion, all that mattered was making sure he was not on the hit-list and was rising in the ranks. That and getting revenge on the Vaile-damned pieces of slag that tried to ruin him and his family.

He would survive, thrive and rise through the ranks, and those fools that stood in the way of his Tyrant’s ambitions would crumble.

He could almost taste the tears that would be shed by the Kingdom of Trelawny. The pieces were moving into place, and the Tyrant had waited patiently for them to do so. Only a few more weeks of this nonsense and the conquest could begin. That xenophobic and inhumanly cruel Kingdom would be crushed from within and from without. How long had the Tyrant been planning it? Decades? Centuries? Millennia? Perhaps longer? It did not matter, all that did was that there was no one and nothing that could throw a wrench into the works.

The Tyrant had set the stage, and now nothing could ruin the performance that was to come. After all, what was the loss of 15,000, no matter how powerful, to an organization that had over 1,800,000 members?