Name: Bralor
Location: Brogendenstein
Date: 2nd of Alturiak

*A single small tome is put in place of where a normal single page report would be marked only as "Victory"*

Warlord, Warbearer, Sergeants, Knights, Brothers, Sisters, And all who will pass through the halls yet to come who shall read of this. Today on this day a victory was forged from the cold bitter claws of defeat. The day of holy combat had finally come. It is in this moment i find myself overwhelmed by emotions both contained during the battle and erupting upon victory. The allied forces assembled around the dwarven citadel won, a bitter cold victory but a critical and momentous victory none the less. It is my deep honor to commit this report of the battle for official record, to honor the fallen cheer the living and to record for history this moment. It is because of this that i spare no detail in glorious retelling.

The battle begins as most do, two sides. One side was the bizarre axis of orc,demon,undead,dragon,para-elemental,and barbarian tribes forced into combat. On the other the odd often ironic allies of the dwarves. Those who heeded their calls of aid shall forever be seen in a new light by others, who proved themselves, and once more proved the value of our orders ideals.
*the next paragraph is writen in gold leaf and outlined in red*
Paladins of the Traidic order gleaming in their armor and true to their paths. Kohlingen military, serving in a foreign land with distinction. The Grove, Druids of the forests braving the cold and uniting the wild life. Paladins of Bahamet, fighting with the strength of a dragon and perhaps the impact of one each. The elves of Winya, archers and swordsmen fighting with the grace and discipline that would make their elders proud. The shrine of Eilistraee, fierce warriors fighting heroically side by side with elves and dwarves. The Northwind Regiment under Zelly Cys'dina, Proving even a merchants can be a glorious warriors worthy of any army. The Seven Star Regiment, Wizard sorcerers and spell swords fighting with the wisdom one comes to expect from the arcane. The Order of the Flaming Sword as well as those under its banner, Fighting with the fury of Tempus, never yielding and shining glory on all those who fought this day. The dwarves of Brogendenstein, Valorous, Heroic, Proud soldiers of their homeland, Fighting with the strength of fifty giants and the heart of a thousand men each.

*normal ink resumes*

Slowly the enemy encircle the port, their intent clear and known. Banners flutter on both sides horns bellow with the full breath of soldiers yet to fight. The weather cold, the enemy in a fury, drums beating on both sides. There is a brief pause, soldiers breath can be heard in the silence time slows and all of the world takes a deep breath. The deities of the land surely take notice as that brief moment of divinity crashes speeding the battle to begin. Artillery rains upon the enemy, the defenders show their courage before the enemy can even test it, Boulder after boulder is launched with the fury rivaled only by the heros of legends as it scatters the keen of senses and destroys the dull of reactions. The enemy is hit but does not waste time returning fire, barrages blacken the sky as they rain upon the stalwart defenders.

The enemy finally attack in mass the two sides clash in a moment of visceral conflict. Screams of glory courage horror and valor sound on both sides as the enemy attempts to scale the walls. Strong warriors repel these efforts but the enemy is not deterred nor slowed as they flood the walls in the fury only orcs can maintain. The waters of the land turn dark as undead horrors emerge from the depths. The rotten flesh and evil intent clear as they press the stoic allies of Brogendenstein, the allies heroic fend off the fiends and maintain the perimeter. The wounded are dragged behind the lines, war drums still loudly radiating the land, the blood of enemy and ally alike mix on the snow running black from the mud pitch oil and muck of war.

The barbarians of the blue bear tribe stare at their kin two sides of a battle neither begins to engage the other, for it would be kin against kin even with their families hostage do they have a choice? This stillness is not reflected upon the battle for long as demonic beings and large creatures the likes of nightmares begin to press the northern wall. The will of many is shaken by the sheer horror, the hero's falter, the soldiers quiver but do not flee. Even in the confused horror enough stand their ground and eventually push back the horrors. A cheer goes up as the allies push these demonic horrors back, not one soldier fled such horrors and the enemy is given pause with this early glimpse of the heart they fight.

The northern wall begins to crumble but dwarven engineering or even the power of the gods hold it firm against all reason, against the very world itself the wall holds. Brave warriors climb its ramparts on both sides as a heated battle erupts buying the engineers time to conduct repairs. Soldiers fall on both sides the battle becoming personal and brutal. Suddenly in an act of unbridled glory and courage the entire barbarian horde on both sides erupt into a frenzy. Hostages or no they all turn and fight without reservation, pushing to free their kin.

The spirit of Uthgar himself is seen in them as they bash the enemy lines plowing through all who appose them. Their battle tough, their losses extreme, the enemy outnumbering them in a manner befitting a legend itself. The break the enemy and rescue their kin fleeing the warzone as their forces are depleted from the effort. A cheer of glory erupts in the allied defense at such a glorious task as it not only saved the innocent but bought valuable time.

More wounded stream from the fronts, even those leading the fight are wounded, the honored dead pile up as the battle rages. Time warps for the wounded and the fighting. The soldiers in pitched battle experience time in brief moments where the wounded exist in a daze time slowing to a crawl. The defense is shaken but still holding. Suddenly the entire mountain quakes and erupts.

Boulders and large pieces of earth rain down from above as suddenly the gaints of the enemy horde press the attack. The large enemies are surprisingly counter attacked in heated battle, the force attacking them out classed in number but not skill. The land runs red but in the end the defenders are victorious, if at a cost. The northern wall begins to crumble under the weight of such a massive assault.

Stones fall, bricks shatter as the wall holds with the stubborn will of those who engineered it, falling after a eon of abuse. Few walls would have held as long under such strain, the allies begin to fall back to the second line of defense within the citadel itself. The tired but still determined withdraw slowly as the enemy engulfs the port the citadel closes and the allies wait inside. The screams of the captured and wounded fill the halls. Horror sweeps the allies once more, many pray few rest and prepare. But among the despair courage yet remains. The ancestors of Brogendenstein stare down from above as the defenders hold their ground. First the axis of orcs and demon test the gate. The heart of every dwarf can remain proud that it held.

Against the sheer will of the enemy it holds firm, the orcs begin to taunts the defenders hurling hostages and soldiers against the gate to demoralize them. Few take despair but anger fuels a renewal of courage. Tempus does not shine upon such horrid tasks, his gaze shifts to the allies and their courage slowly begins to rise. Huddled in the citadel The exhausted remain, for there is something the enemy has not considered. A brave band has broken off with a important mission, a mission that will save the citadel in this dark hour. But as in all tales the defenders must hold. Slowly the enemy begins to dig down at the allies. The gate to strong even for the axis of enemies gathered among them they decide to dig.

Slowly light erupts from the ceiling and the defenders take formation in the narrow halls. Dwarves have always held off forces within these corridors. for eons this tactic has saved countless settlements and it is this design alone that shall be tested. The enemy breaks the ceiling flooding the weakened wavering defense. But the tide of battle begins to shift the entire horde pressed into a narrow corridor means little. Dwarves, Humans, Elves, Drow, Dragon kin, and beings of every kind fights in the narrow pass. Banners and flags get trampled by the enemy and markings of orders get ripped and drowned in blood from both sides. Slowly what was once a allied force becomes a single band of soldiers united under the first assault.

Against all odds, against the reason of warfare, against the very will of the enemy. The defenders hold. Shaken but enboldened the defenders heal their wounded but soon press them back into the fight. Another wave this one bolder clashes through. The defenders hold their narrow pass, wounded soldiers slowly outnumber the healthy until even the dwarven leaders are wounded. The pass holds. Screams of indignant rage erupt within the enemy. How can such a seemingly broken wounded force hold against the sheer might of the axis assaulting them? The drums of war grow into a fury, the ground quakes with the sheer mass of the enemy. Another wave attacks a now hardened defense force they crash against the shield wall like a tsunami, the line crumbles slowly under the weight.

Suddenly the line stops and the enemy advance slows. For a moment time holds its breath as both sides stop and the defenders begin to push them back. Enraged orcs push forward but find no footing as they are killed relentlessly. The third enraged enemy attack is repelled. The enemy camp grows quiet.

Clang. Silence is broken by a proud dwarf drenched in blood and wounded in manners that would kill a man. Clang. A knight in now dull armor stands tall his pride growing. Clang. A elf her helmet splayed rises tall her wounds meaning nothing. Clang. Whole ranks not begin beating their shield armor and the very ground. Above the enemy recoils in horror. The defenders have not fallen they have held even their best attacks. Reckless courage erupts and cheers and screams of valor erupt among the defenders. The enemy begin to waver but attack silently. No war drums accompany them.

The Deities of the realm turn their gaze to this moment as the enemy is once more repelled. Exhausted wounded depleted the defenders hold. The enemy has thrown everything they had and yet the defense holds stubbornly. Slowly more and more of the citadel crumbles under the sheer volume of attack. The defenders become encircled as the enemy has broken the ceiling above in the large open areas of the settlement. Wisely the heroic defenders withdraw to a easier to defend area. The enemy rejoices assuming another victory.

But the enemy forgets something that even some of the defenders do. There is not one force of allies, But two. That second force this entire time of the battle has been working their mission. Their plan coming to fruition. The mountain trembles and the defenders witness ice forming on the only remaining door. The large mountain being that has been dreaded is on the move. The defenders fear it is the end but then suddenly the enemy camp erupts into sounds of horror. One by one those cries go softer. The second force has accomplished their mission. The defense force held and the enemy is frozen solid.

Exhausted disbelief grips the defenders. Cries of hysteria sweep the wounded. The battle is over. Victory was won, a costly large lose for all forces but victory none the less. The dwarven heart swells with pride as the allies slowly begin to take in what has happened. The enemy was frozen solid utterly destroyed. Unseen hands have moved unseen events to the defenders ushering in a victory.

The port ruined, the citadel broken. The allies held. Victory is celebrated in all its many manners. The battle is over, the war ended.

I War Priest Bralor of the clan Sa'Badia proudly submit this report to not only the order but to all settlements as well. It lives as testament to courage valor and what the few can do when surrounded by the many.

*a seal of Tempus leafed in mithril, gold and copper adorns the last page.*