Deep within the tunnel, inside a rocky cavern.
The firelight was dim and yellow, casting a glow over the rugged face of the dwarf general, Mogdin. He was half-crouched on a protruding black rock, his fists clasped together, his eyes gleaming with a beast-like light. A scout knelt on one knee nearby, fragments of the tunnel wall still clinging to his helmet.
"They're in, sir." The scout spoke in a low voice. "The humans followed our retreat route and have already ventured south of Echoing Passage. They're stopped near Three-way Intersection now, apparently hesitating."
Mogdin slowly rose, the corners of his mouth stretching into a grin that revealed a set of tobacco-yellowed teeth. "Just a little farther...just a little farther. Once they're completely inside, drop the iron gate. Our ancestors forged that gate from refined iron. A hundred wild bulls couldn't break through it. With them trapped inside, they'll be rats in a jar."
He remembered leading an assault on Mountain Throat Fortress, only to be routed by cannon fire and Volley Fire. Many brave dwarf warriors had died, and even his own weapon had had its shaft blown apart by a cannon shell. The humiliation had been branded into his heart.
Mogdin growled, "This time, we're not the ones fleeing. They're the ones who'll die. Either kneel and surrender, handing over your weapons, or rot beneath the earth while the insects gnaw every bone from your bodies!" He slammed a fist into the stone wall, sending fragments rattling down.
He raised his head toward the impenetrable darkness deep within the tunnel, as though he could already see the human soldiers panicking in their sealed dead end.
Just as Mogdin was imagining himself escorting human prisoners before the orcish envoys, head held high and pride restored, a deep and terrifying