"Now."
The moment Atticus spoke, the fortress trembled, the ground splitting open at the heart of the fortress. A deep, guttural clanking echoed as monstrous artillery rose from the ground, massive cannons, their barrels gleaming with an intense glow.
Each one was lined with intricate dwarven craftsmanship, ancient yet advanced.
At their base, the members of the dwarven battalion scrambled into position, moving swiftly as they worked to get the cannons operational.
There was simply no one in all of Eldoralth who could rival the dwarves in craftsmanship.
While the other races were advanced in their own right, the dwarves, despite being a lower race, undoubtedly took the crown in this matter.
There was a huge gray area when it came to the dwarves and the higher races, with many members of their kind being forced into slavery.
Regardless, Atticus had been subtly elated to discover that he had them in his army.
'It was so obvious.'
