The Portal blinked to life, casting an ethereal glow that illuminated the fort's surroundings. Standing at the forefront of the gathered crowd were Captain Firebeard, Sergeant Ironheart, Engineer Tinker Gearlocke, Gunsmith Garrock Halforcen, and Hetman Yaroslav Petrovich, mounted on his majestic horse. The Enchanters strained to maintain the portal's stability, their faces etched with concentration and sweat beading on their brows.

  The first to emerge from the portal were the Human Cavalry. Reiters and Hussars, armed with lances and sabers, trotted through with sharp whistles and screeches. As they passed, Garrok noticed several horsemen whose plain uniforms set them apart—Drakoons. They wore no intricate embroidery or braids but carried pistols at their chests, waists, and in pairs on their saddles—Dragon pistols at the ready. Supply wagons followed closely behind the cavalry, their wheels creaking beneath the weight of provisions.

  Hetman Petrovich gave a sharp whistle, rallying the cavalry to his side. With a swing of his sabre, he led the charge, urging the horsemen out of the fort and into the woods, followed by their supply wagons. Their mission: to establish a camp within the safety of the trees and continue harassing enemy forces.

  The portal shimmered again, and this time, Dwarven rangers jogged through, packs laden with supplies and rifles resting on their shoulders. Hot on their heels were detachments of the Mountain Guard, their heavy boots striking the ground in a rhythmic beat.

  The first group of Dwarves wore black platemail armor, wielding shields, axes, and holstered pistols. Sergeant Ironheart, standing beside Garrok, remarked, "The Shieldbearers. They'll form two or three lines. The front line engages, the others swap in when needed. Keeps the line unbroken. Clever tactic, that."

  Garrok’s gaze moved to the next group—Dwarves clad in plated chainmail and bearing long spears. "Are they all Knurlafn?!" Ironheart exclaimed, eyes wide.

  "Aye, they are," Captain Firebeard confirmed. "When word spread that we were battling Goblins, these lassies volunteered without hesitation. Each one of them has lost kin to those wretches. Since this was a Grudge, the King granted their request to join, but insisted they come as spear bearers to keep them from falling into goblin hands. They'll hold behind the shield-wall, driving their spears into anything green that dares approach."

  The portal continued to pulse, releasing more Dwarves—these clad in leather armor, carrying round shields and axes, Thundravir guns strapped to their backs. Behind them came carriages bearing the 6-pounder siege guns, their barrels gleaming darkly.

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  "The Gunners will man the walls," Firebeard instructed. "Rangers to the Towers and Ostrogs. Two patrols will fortify the Hospital. Builders will raise gun towers near the citadel for the siege guns."

  A low rumble signaled another arrival. Several reinforced wagons bearing the crest of the Dwarven Gunsmiths Guild—a pistol crossed with a long-gun atop a solid anvil—rolled into the courtyard, each hitched to sturdy mountain ponies. Cast iron barrels of the formidable 12-pounder Houfnice—heavy siege guns—peeked from beneath tarps. Powder crates, shot, and tools were stacked neatly beside them. Artillery crews, clad in leather aprons over chainmail, carried ramrods, wrenches, and hammers, their faces grim and determined.

  Sergeant Ironheart gave a low whistle as the wagons rolled by. "Now there’s a sight to make any orc’s guts turn to water."

  "The Guild doesn’t send these beauties out for just any frontier squabble," Firebeard added, nodding. "They mean to make a statement."

  At the head of the convoy rode a tall, lanky dwarf—a Guildmaster, his medallion pinned proudly to his chest. He met Firebeard’s gaze with a curt nod as the wagons moved toward the construction sites.

  The portal flared once more, and a formation of hooded Elven archers stepped through, their longbows unstrung but ready. Clad in deep greens and grays, their faces remained hidden beneath their hoods save for the glint of sharp eyes. They moved like shadows, silent and precise.

  "Enchanters' guards," Firebeard muttered to Garrok. "Deadly quiet, those ones. And no less dangerous for it."

  The defenders lining the walls and walking the grounds paused to watch the new arrivals. The exhausted rangers straightened. Builders wiped their brows and exchanged hopeful glances. For the first time since the last brutal assault, hope returned to their eyes. Reinforcements had come—not just numbers, but strength, skill, and purpose.

  As the portal flickered, nearing collapse, a rush of final wagons spilled through—supply wagons carrying essential provisions, builders, gunsmiths, blacksmiths, healers, and various camp followers, all managing to squeeze through the portal's narrowing passage just in time. Two apprentice enchanters leapt down from the wagons, quickly overseeing the unloading process of the racks of mana crystals, bundles of herbs, crates of arcane tools, and other magical supplies.

  The enchanters themselves, drained to the brink, collapsed as the portal gave one last pulse and sealed shut. Without hesitation, the elven archers moved to their sides, offering water and herbs, tending to the exhausted spellcasters with practiced care.

  Ironheart grunted, watching the quiet efficiency of the elves. "Even the gruffest dwarf gives those lads a wide berth. They don’t need to raise their voices to command respect."

  In the soft glow of the portal's aftermath, amidst the gathering of steel, smoke, and magic, the fort hummed with life and hope.

  The reinforcements had arrived—and with them, the promise that the battle was far from over, but now, perhaps, winnable.

  Knurlafn -Dwarven girls/women

  knurlagn-Dwarven boys/men

  дракон "drakon". They typically carry four dragons in specially made holsters on their mounts, four pistols on their person, and a saber. They are typically sent to hunt enemy cavalry, but will also hunt enemy fugitives. The predecessors of the Drakoons were originally a class of mounted infantry, who used horses for mobility, but dismounted to fight on foot using human pattern Thundravir guns. But they later abandoned the use of the Thundravir in favor of the pistols. They adopted the moniker of "Drakoon" in honor of the relatively rare Dragon pistols. They are inspired by the European Dragoon Cavalry, mounted gunners on horseback.