Warhammer Divine Throne-Chapter 735 - 326, Soul-Stirring Dreams of Eight Peaks Mountain_2
"And what happened then?" Laine asked with keen interest.
"It was a painful experience for both parties," Dugen sneered continually. "The so-called fine wine brewed by the Elves tasted like flavorless sour water to us Dwarves. The Supreme King's action of splitting open the wine barrel with an axe displeased the Elf ambassador, and then the Supreme King forced down the sour water while holding his nose in discomfort."
"Similarly, our brewed dark beer was intolerable for the Elves. That Elf spit it out halfway and only managed to choke it down. Later, someone saw the Elf vomiting for quite a while in the courtyard behind the guest room. Oh, I remember now, that ambassador was the son of the First Phoenix King, who later became the Witch King Malekith and caused the Elf schism."
"Hahahaha~" Everyone in the Dwarf bar laughed heartily: "That's why, human friends understand us better!"
Laine and the others couldn't stop laughing as well. Indeed, whether it's Dwarven food or Elven wine, both are acceptable and enjoyable to humans, but it's a different story between Dwarves and Elves.
"By the way, Mr. Dugen, you've been mentioning Eight Peaks Mountain. I recall your clan's name and your brother's name are very similar? Could you tell us your story?" Laine attempted to inquire about previous matters, being genuinely interested in Dugen and the group of Dwarves he led.
"Yes, our clan's name is the Angland Clan, quite like Mr. Anger's name," Dugen thought for a moment and felt there was nothing to hide: "Since Lord Laine wants to know, I'll tell you our story."
"Thank you very much, Mr. Dugen!" Amelia, holding Laine's large hand, blushed, eager to hear the story.
"When the Ancient Saints created the world, the race created immediately after the Elves was the Dwarves. Under the leadership of the three Ancestors, Glarni, Grimnir, and Valaya, the Dwarves had already established their civilization in the World's Roof Mountain Range. Karak Eight Peaks was the first city of the Dwarves, built even earlier than the ancestral Dwarf Capital, Karaz-A-Karak, also known as Eternal Peak."
"Eight Peaks Mountain used to be the second largest Dwarf city after Eternal Peak. The ancestors created a brilliant civilization there. At that time, everyone believed that Eight Peaks Mountain, protected by eight peaks and having more than a dozen defensive bastions and walls, would never fall... until over two thousand years ago, a time our clan cannot forget."
After finishing his words, Dugen paused as if enduring something, a strong emotion about to erupt. He tried to speak, but after opening his mouth, he continued the story: "But Eight Peaks Mountain faced a problem. Our underground mines and earth vein networks were too numerous and complex. After millennia of development, even the longest-bearded Master Rune Artisan couldn't remember where the hundreds of disordered earth vein networks led. In one instance, miners accidentally opened a passage to the Skaven Demon Rat Empire's earth vein network."
"We fought hard, eliminated hordes of Demon Rats, and successfully controlled the siege on the city. But not long after, Eight Peaks Mountain faced a massive Green Skin invasion. The Dwarves had to fend off attacks from both the Ratmen and the Green Skins. After fighting on both fronts, our ancestors began to falter. Even so, we held out for over a hundred years. Ultimately, we sealed the sacred Holy Hall and treasures deep within the mountains..."
Dugen left the rest unsaid, but Laine knew that Eight Peaks Mountain still fell: "So your clan scattered then?"
"No, about a hundred thousand Dwarves escaped from Eight Peaks Mountain at the time, forming our Angland Clan. For the next two thousand years, the Angland Clan wandered through the mountains, losing clan honor and living as exiles, trying every effort to reclaim Eight Peaks Mountain." Dugen sighed, shaking his head. "Every generation of Angland Clan kings vowed to reclaim Eight Peaks Mountain and restore the ancestors' glory, but they all undoubtedly failed. Our clan's population kept declining, and by the time Belgar became the king of the Angland Clan three hundred years ago, we had about thirty thousand clansmen."
"Belgar Iron Hammer, I've heard his name," Angerong said.
"Yes, our king, Belgar Iron Hammer," Dugen the Ironman nodded. "From eighty years ago until now, Belgar organized two expeditions. The second expedition even got help from the Supreme King, but it only brought us bad news. Just recently, Belgar launched a third expedition, gathering numerous kingdom refugees and warriors from other kingdoms to form an expeditionary army of about eight thousand. But I'm already tired of the expedition to Eight Peaks Mountain. My clansmen who came to your domain with me don't want to engage in futile efforts. I mean... if we can reclaim Eight Peaks Mountain, I'll definitely do it, but with the current army, it's impossible to succeed... Lord Laine, you understand what I mean, don't you?"
"I understand." Laine's eyes lit up, sensing he had grasped something.
Is there something he could do?
......
No one knew, but as the Angland Clan was being chatted about in the Longbeard Tavern, in the Southern Empire, beyond the Border Prince's Domain, and the famous Dwarf City of Balak-Haimen Pass,
It was a land of evil.
The Evil Land is a term for a vast, desolate, and barren region located in the arid plains and scorching deserts between the towering World Edge Mountains and the southernmost Black Bay Coast of the Old World. It is the largest area of Green Skin activity besides the Black Land, with many relics of lost civilizations existent there.
Adventuring into the Evil Land requires using the blade to defend one's life; traveling safely here is impossible. Even caravans guarded by heavy-armored soldiers can't ensure safety. This harsh, barren land has no inhabitants, and there's no food source. Even water sources are severely polluted, posing significant losses for any army attempting to venture into this terrifying land.
Nevertheless, human and Dwarf expeditionary teams eager to explore the Evil Land continue to flock in because it once hosted glorious civilizations. The Strig Kingdom, one of the five major Vampire clans, once built a brilliant civilization here (which was eventually destroyed by Green Skins). During the Dwarven Golden Era, countless Dwarf Cities existed here (eventually destroyed by Green Skins too). The former vast treasures and wealth are waiting for newcomers.
Five to six thousand years ago, during the dwarven Golden Era, the Dwarves massively propagated and established strongholds at the southern end of the World's Roof Mountain Range in the Evil Land. Today, these strongholds have fallen into the hands of the Green Skins. Many Dwarf Expeditionary Armies have tried to reclaim them but have often failed, with rare successes. Even if the Green Skins were temporarily expelled, they quickly returned to launch ever-fiercer sieges on the Dwarves.
Now, a new Dwarf Army stretches out, marching across the wilderness.
This army consists of a unit of Hammer Warriors, a unit of Long-bearded Warriors, several units of Dwarf Rangers, and numerous Dwarf Miners and Dwarf Warriors, not to mention hordes of Dwarf Crossbowmen and Dwarf Musketeers, along with the pride of the Dwarves—the Cannon.
More than eight thousand Dwarves spread across the wasteland, advancing slowly yet resolutely. Not far off, amidst the enveloping mist and encircling mountains, the path to Karak Eight Peaks is now open.
Clad in blue Dwarf Enchanted Vibranium Plate Armor, wielding the Hammer of Angland, and carrying the Shield of Struggle, Belgar Iron Hammer, the leader of the Angland Clan and self-proclaimed King of Eight Peaks, stood on the Ancestor's rune stone, delivering a speech to the Dwarf Army, passionately striking his shield with the iron hammer.
"Clang Clang~"
"Dwarf brothers, refugees of the Angland Clan, warriors of other Dwarf Kingdoms!"
"Damn Green Skins and Ratmen, these vile creatures destroyed our homes and turned our people into refugees! But they cannot crush our spirits!"
"All the suffering we endured will unite us, make us stronger and more determined. In the name of Glarni and Valaya, we return once more to the foot of Karak Eight Peaks!"
"In two thousand years of conflict, we've lost many kin and friends! Through two expeditions, we've lost countless brothers!"
"But none of this suffering has defeated us, and now we return with hatred and fury!"
"Now! Let us reclaim all we have lost and seize the land of our ancestors!"
"The third expedition to Eight Peaks Mountain begins now!"







