Battle of the Eastern Marches

Gromrik stared at the assembled dwarfs, his eyes almost disappearing underneath his brows as his frown intensified, his hands on his hips as he scowled at his duardin brothers.

"How could this happen?!" He grunted.

The dwarfs looked at each other or at the floor, none of the Kharadrons wanting to face the wrath of their admiral. Behind the duardin fleet commander, several dwarf miners were picking through the remains of their precious equipment, now entangled and crushed between tree roots, moss and other plant life. The Chief miner was in tears, being consoled by his assistant. Gromrik continued.

"We won the battle, so what is this?" Gromrik gestured to the destruction.

One duardin sheepishly looked up at his commander as the others prodded him forward.

"Well admiral, it was that big tree we think, the one that charged our lines early on. We think... we think it might have planted something".

Gromrik looked aghast.

"Of course it was the damned tree you idiot. I meant how could you lot let it get so close. Why weren't you protecting the miners!".

The arkanauts looked at one another. There was a long pause before someone at the back quietly muttered, "...don't like trees".

Gromrik rolled his eyes and trudged off to the ironclad "Dreadnought". It was almost complete, but still needed a fresh lick of paint. the fleet looked majestic moored to the hills above the valley of the river Silverrush, at the edge of the Eastern Marches. The river bed was once more covered in a carpet of green, and the water flowed briskly through the valley. Trees dotted the banks in a scene many would consider idyllic. gromrik shook his head. All this had happened in two days. Less than a week previously, the scene had been very different.

Gromrik's Sky-Host had recieved reports from the locals of the Eastern Marches that the Silverrush valley was rich in natural resources, especially precious gems, stones and metals washed down from the cliffs nearer to the coast. Eager to investigate this potential profit, Gromrik had secured a contract with a group of duardin miners. The Kharadrons would provide the capital for the venture, with the dwarfs allowed to mine the area at a more industrial scale than the peasant human farmers with their pans. The Lords of Quemara granted Gromrik a warrant to prospect, but concerns were raised regarding the proximity of the venture so close to the Aelvish lands.

It was in year 10 of the Permenia Calendar that Gromrik received the first warning. Spirits would visit the camps in the night warning the duardin to abandon their efforts, but these were ignored. By the summer of that year, the entire river had been damned and diverted, laying bear the sandy riverbed glistening with occasional jewels, hinting at the riches below. The expedition then decided to fully exploit this new found wealth, delving into the soil and carving away at the rocks. Trees and all life around the riverbed for miles were cut down or removed, leaving a scar on the landscape of the eastern marches. By autumn the mining expedition was into profit, and looked sure to make Gromrik a handsome return. That was when the Sylvaneth, aghast at the ruin of so much of nature, interved.

Trees started to grow at a supernatural rate across the other side of the river, and Gromrik drew together his powerful defensive fleet and arkanaut companies. He was well aware the Aelves and spirits of the wood may attempt to take back the riverlands, and he had taken steps to ensure the safety of the minors. With a shriek a Frostheart Phoenix made its presence known, and the giant bird attacked the arkanauts. Heavy casualties followed, but the bird was cut down. The duardin were forced back by onrushing tree-beasts, as they gave ground in order to better shoot their enemies with their aetheric weapons.

That had been the mistake, though Gromrik. The Kharadrons had fought the battle like any other engagement, giving ground in order to concentrate their firepower and using the mobility of their ships to outmanoeuvre the enemy. But the Kharadrons had forgotten one thing, to protect the mining gear. The onrushing sylvaneth attacked almost recklessly, and although trees began sprouting on the near side of the bank, trees could be cut down. For the Aelvish host, casualties were high as the duardin firepower wrought terrible damage on the spirits of the forests. Great Tree spirits were felled, and the Kurnoth Kunters were savaged by Endrinriggers. The Sylvaneth retreated as the dwarfs cheered, but even then something felt wrong to Admiral Aetherstrider.

In their reckless attack, the Sylvaneth host had wrecked the mining equipment vital to the enterprise, and spread the seed of regrowth across the valley of the Silverrush. Despite losing more casualties, the Aelvish Lands had effectively removed Gromrik's mining expedition, and no trace of it remained on the riverbed, which had returned to its peaceful natural state. The battle had been a warning from the Blood Coast Alliance, the faction in control of the Aelvish lands. Stay on your side of the river.

Gromrik sighed. "OK lads, back to the ships. There is nothing more for us here".