Deep within the cliffs of the eastern Rockies, a dwarf scout crouched in a crevice, observing the fortress the humans were building.
The dwarf's rough fingers clutched a protruding chunk of rock, his sharp eyes fixed on the gray-white structure rising at the foot of the mountain.
"They're pouring stone! The humans actually dare build a fortress on dwarf territory? This is an offense! This is blasphemy!"
Anger appeared on the scout's face. The dwarves had always regarded the entire Rocky Mountains as their territory. In the past, they had even allowed small bands of Orcish raiders to quietly pass through in winter and attack human settlements that dared approach the Rocky Mountains.
The dwarves created a buffer zone, while the orcs obtained supplies to survive the winter. Each side got what it needed.
The news quickly reached the mountain hall of the Stonemason Clan. Within the enormous chamber, firelight illuminated stone pillars covered in ancient runes.
Upon hearing the news, General Mogdin flew into a rage and smashed the stone table beside him with one blow.
"They dare build walls in our borderlands without our permission?!" he roared. "This is an insult to us!"
He turned to face Clan Chief Imaer. "Chief, while that fortress is still unfinished, and while their... whatever it's called—cannons, I think—haven't been mounted yet, we must strike! Use rolling boulders and burning oil to wipe it off the face of the earth! Otherwise, the humans will think even the rocks of the Rocky Mountains are theirs to trample!"
Imaer sat upright upon a black-obsidian throne, his beard braided with iron rings and his expression cold and stern. He naturally knew the humans' purpose. Their envoy, Helson, was being held by him, and it seemed they were preparing to take hard measures—at the very least,