Cook Skullcrusher and his Shogunate had a good idea before the war: gradually occupy the dwarven fortress and use it as a military camp to escape the cold of the night in the highlands, and collect food stored in the fortress to provide supplies for subsequent battles. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 ｉｎｆｏ

Even after the "Dwarven Night Attack", Cook naively imagined doing the opposite, using the dwarves' tunnels to sneak attack the dwarves, but the result was still a cheat!

The narrow and winding tunnels can be shuttled freely, and the tall orcs can try to get in? If you don't get stuck, you will be suffocated, but the hateful dwarf will take the opportunity to cut off the heads of many orc soldiers.

For the same reason, the warriors under the command of Cook Skullcrusher were very reluctant to stay in the dwarven fortress, they really couldn't stand the narrow tunnels, and they couldn't stand the dwarf bedrooms that they barely managed to squeeze into when they curled up in a ball, especially after the dwarves released poison gas into the fortress through the secret passages, and hundreds of orcs were smoked to death in their sleep, everyone had enough of it, and would rather camp in the open air and endure the cold than burrow into those damned dwarven fortresses!

These days, Cook Skullcrusher has convened a meeting of the Shogunya to review it, and many orc leaders admit that the expedition to Icewind Dale was a bad decision, and think that retreating now is a wise move.

But the necromancer from the Order of Naraku offered the opposite.

"Whether it is right or wrong, there is no room for regret when the war has been fought to this extent, otherwise how can we account for the many warriors who died on the snowy fields? We have defeated the dwarves' outer fortress groups, and now there is only one last goal left, which is the wrought iron city, conquer the wrought iron city, everything we have paid before will be rewarded, if we give up halfway, the blood shed before will be in vain, and the dwarves will also recover their luck, and unite the human legions on the plains to flank our army, and the consequences will be unimaginable. ”

The Necromancer's statement was deeply in line with Cook Skullclender's heart, and in addition to the mage's overt truth, there was also a tacit reason for them, that is, Cook Skullcrusher's power in the tribe was not unshakable.

If he commanded the orcs to take the wrought iron city, it would be worth the sacrifice, and people would only praise him for his wisdom and victory, believing that he was the savior of all the orcs in the Far East, and sincerely obeying his leadership.

If this battle is abandoned halfway, then he must bear the responsibility for the wrong decision, and the leaders of the major warbands under his command will also question whether he is still qualified to continue to lead the tribe, and the seizure of power and internal strife will inevitably occur, so that even if he can retain power in the end, the orcs will also lose their luck and lose the opportunity to dominate the Far East.

"Order the whole army: In today's battle, only advance, not retreat, and take the wrought iron city for me at all costs!" Cook Skullcrusher slammed the table with his palm, gritting his teeth and glaring at the grim light.

The orcs are in a dilemma, and the dwarves are in an even more dangerous situation; The orcs still have a way to retreat, but they are trapped in a lonely city, and there is no way to retreat.

The "King of Icewind Dale" Bratu Wrought Iron stood in front of the majestic city walls, wearing a Mithril chain armor, wearing a crown of wisdom, and his large hand holding the king's scepter was still strong and powerful, but the back of his palm was bruised, and his finger joints were slightly white, suggesting that the dwarven lord's inner world was not as calm as his face.

As a level 13 spell mage and level 2 archmage, Bratu Wrought Iron is far more intelligent than his people, which is the main reason why he has been widely loved in the two hundred years since he ascended the throne, but in the face of the fierce army of orcs outside the city, he touched the gray beard under his chin, and couldn't help but feel a little powerless.

"Father, the cannonballs and fiery glue are all used up, and the other materials for defending the city are almost exhausted, so it is not a way to passively trap them, so simply open the city gate and fight with those damn green skins!" A young dwarf in adamantite armor walked up to Bratu Wrought Iron and angrily threw a hammer into the air, sending an orc trying to climb the walls into the air, sending it back into his hands.

"Bloom, my son, don't let anger blind your eyes, we're not at the end of our rope."

With a flick of Bratu Wrought Iron Finger, a silver light flashed out, turning into a chain of lightning blasts, pulling open a scorching and bright power grid, instantly covering the front city wall, paralyzing and convulsing the orcs clinging to it, and falling down with a scream.

The dwarven warriors defending the city shouted in unison, raising their spears and axes or warhammers to applaud their great king.

There was a gloom in the eyes of the young dwarf prince, he knew very well how many spell slots his father had, the siege had lasted all day and night, and his father had always been at the head of the city to boost morale, in this case, there was no chance to rest at all, how many spells were left? The answer is not encouraging.

The dwarves do not produce spellcasters, and the wise King is the backbone of all the descendants of Moradin in the Far East, and if he runs out of spells, this battle may not be able to continue.

At this moment, Prince Bloom suddenly straightened up, looked straight at the city, spat fiercely, and cursed: "Bastard! That black-robed bastard is here again! I'm going to kill him! ”

A necromancer in a black robe and hood appeared in front of the city walls, pale and thin fingers poking out of the sleeves of his robes, waving a dark green glow. With an evil spell, the orcs who had fallen under the city and had already died staggered to their feet, turned into a horde of creepy undead creatures, picked up their weapons again, and crawled towards the city walls.

"Hmph, disgusting fellow." Bratu Wrought Iron looked angry and waved his hand to flick out a "arcane fire".

However, the necromancer under the city was obviously on guard, flicked the sleeves of his robe, and escaped into the "arbitrary door" and disappeared into thin air.

"Bastard! Bastard! I can't bear it anymore! I'm going down and smashing that black-robed bastard's skull! ”

Bloom wrought iron glared at his beard and tried to jump off the wall.

The mage lord grabbed the back of his son's neck and said coldly: "I know it's a trap and still jump in, how can I have a stupid son like you!" ”

The young prince's face flushed, and he snorted and stopped speaking.

Bratu Wrought Iron frowned, his eyes pierced through the smoke above the battlefield, looking into the distance, and muttering to himself.

"Rudolph, my old friend, I can only count on you now, don't let me down......"

As if the goddess of fate heard his plea and answered in time, a desolate and passionate horn suddenly sounded in the distance, and a dark figure appeared on the horizon, and the sound of horses' hooves was like a swift wind and thunder.

Bloom was tickling the back of his armor with the handle of the hammer upside down, when he heard the sound of a horn and was startled.

"Orc reinforcements are coming?"

"No, it's our reinforcements coming." Bratu smiled, and immediately turned pale, and ordered in a loud voice: "Open the city gates, and cooperate with our human friends to flank the orcs!" ”