It was late morning now, and the frontal assault was canceled. Instead, the world's mightiest air force took flight again. The three balloons filled and rose as white clouds against the winter sky, carrying aloft some of the first-ever fliers. Vonn hovered above tainted ground while the army used fast scout parties rather than the main Woven body. Since the constructs were still young, they hadn't distinguished themselves in the System's eyes such that some were fast or keen-eyed or smart. They weren't even technically "Fighters" or anything else yet. That lack helped make them all look interchangeable, expendable. For now it meant Aves and Centaur scouts buzzing the fringes of Kolm's Fell.

The Reeve had roused many of the tougher villagers including Dad to show up with weapons, too. The Shieldpoint folk weren't a great fighting force, but most households had at least one armed adult who could answer the summons. They made a motley group of Monks and Necromancers with magic, swift Agents, and people who'd taken a few levels in Fighter as a sort of tax payment.

Vonn watched the first skirmishes of the day. A squad of three bone spiders crawled up from a trench and scuttled toward a scouting Centaur. Three fliers rushed the nearest flying scout. Both of them followed orders and fled for their lives, toward small groups of Woven commanded to shoot arrows and retreat. They managed to drive off the attackers for the moment; whatever mind was behind these creatures seemed cautious.

The Aves saluted. "Saw a dungeon entrance."

The Centaur nodded, pointing out a trench area with a roof suggesting a tunnel.

Their Elf commander let his assistants fill in details on a map table. He nodded to Selen.

Selen handed over two glass bottles of green goo to a soldier. She was about to speak when another scout called out, "Troops from the south."

Everyone turned. Coming across the Shieldpoint bridge was a squad of five Centaur and Human soldiers, in enough clanking plate armor to build several engines. Behind them, a levy of around fifty Human and Vulin peasants with spears and clubs. They flew a banner of a blue river on brown.

Lord Taraleo saluted the group. "Baron Flintarch's group?"

The bulky Centaur in the lead said, "I am his son, sir, at the Duke's service. He tires of this dungeon too."

"So you have five of his best men counting yourself. What are the abilities of these commoners?"

"Backup, sir. Just spare spearpoints but sheer manpower will help."

"Not Fighters? Not Agents or Mages?"

"Farmers and the occasional Craftsman."

The commander's men mumbled. The Elf looked incredulous and held out his right palm. "I called for fighting men. You bring me one hand's worth. Are your Farmers so wonderful that they make up for your lack of a fighting force?"

The Centaur scuffed at the ground. "Sir, they can fight."

"Your father has an obligation, boy! He should reread his oath. The Duke provides land and titles, and his Barons provide trained soldiers!"

"But... but you have these Woven. They aren't Fighters either. And what about the western towns and so on? What about Shieldpoint itself?"

"The Woven are the Duke's to use as he sees fit. At my lord's command I have the other villages coordinating their defenses from other directions with the main thrust here. And Shieldpoint is, as you may notice, providing militia, a mercenary delver squad, and the latest Engineer toys. You are welcome here today, but the Duke will have words with your father. Who I notice is absent."

The young lord blushed. "He is ill, sir. I realize the timing is unfortunate --"

The Elf said, "Form up on the left." He called out to the frightened peasants, "I apologize on behalf of the Duke. Please do your best. The situation will be corrected in the near future." He turned immediately to one of his officers and instructed him to make sure the commoners knew how to form a pike wall.

Vonn was glad not to be the target of Taraleo's ire. He whispered to Selen, "This has been a long time coming."

"Those spears look brand new."

"Didn't need to instigate some kind of social revolution, just support the commoners how I could."

It was about then that Baron Bogstep arrived in force. The son of Baron Flintarch paled, ashamed, as the eastern lord arrived with boat after boat of commoners who looked drilled and ready. These people were mostly Human and Centaur, typically equipped with padded cloth armor, shields, and a mix of spears, crossbows, and magic wands.

"That's more like it!" said Vonn. The Baron himself had come with his magically-gifted son.

"Glad you could join us," the Elf commander said. He nodded without complaint as the hundred or so soldiers formed up at his right. He outlined the plan.

Vonn got Brightstep's attention and said, "Did you bring everything?"

"Yes. I don't know if it'll work, but I'd rather try your method than run through death tunnels."

#

The Necromancers helped hold the line. They were dressed in a disturbing array of grisly charms for protection against their own spells, as a sickly haze formed in front of them like a wall or a mobile geomantic ward. They'd considered bringing zombies as well, but had said it was best to focus their attention. They also admitted that while a dungeon seizing control of undead minions shouldn't be possible, they'd never dealt with this specific situation before.

Vonn sat in a scout balloon with a sharp-eyed Elf, both of them armed against air attack. Birb and Selen used their propeller and crude jets to head closer, carrying a young and skinny Elf who was testing the boat's weight capacity. He and scouts on the other vessels occasionally blew trumpet notes as they spied activity. Nothing major yet, though.

Now that they'd found two entrances, Spikes' team moved up, backed by a few Woven. The dungeon sent a booming toad into play. "Like a chess pawn," Vonn said. The team was prepared for every known monster type though. A Mage on the team raised one hand and flung a well-timed sonic pulse to negate the first attack. A flurry of arrows shot out and nailed the toad long enough for Spikes to rush up and finish it with a spear strike.