Seeing how decisively Radahn issued his battle orders and how Ogha and Freyja likewise promptly headed for the Redmane Knights' quarters with purpose, Thorin asked in genuine surprise, "Leaving so soon?"
Radahn looked down at the Dwarf with genuine puzzlement etched across his weathered features, "I have arrived as promised, and the enemy is occupying vital strategic ground right there before our eyes. If we don't act immediately, are we supposed to wait idly for that 'Azog' to reinforce his positions and make our task infinitely harder?"
Thorin quickly shook his head, raising his hands. "That's not what I meant at all. My father Thrain and his army haven't arrived yet from their perilous journey. We originally intended to wait until all our combined forces were gathered before launching our attack on Azog."
Radahn replied with military calm, his voice carrying the weight of countless battles, "That would indeed be ideal under normal circumstances, but these Goblins weren't part of our original tactical plan. Plans never keep up with the chaos of change. If Ravenhill is truly as you describe, a commanding vantage point overlooking the entire battlefield, there's absolutely no way we can allow the enemy to hold such crucial ground. Imagine Thrain's weary army emerging from the treacherous Misty Mountains and being immediately exposed to enemy eyes watching from above. What devastating action would Azog take?"
Thorin fell into troubled silence, understanding the strategic implications. Dain let out a hearty laugh to ease the suddenly tense mood, clapping Thorin firmly on the back: "He's absolutely right, cousin Thorin. Speed is everything in warfare. Before the Goblins completely swarm every sewer and tunnel in Dale like rats, we need to seize both strategic positions."
Thorin nodded with growing conviction. "Alright, you've completely convinced me, so..."
Just then, a sudden commotion sounded from outside Lake-town's walls, and Gloin ran breathlessly over to Tarnes and his floating group. He looked up in amazement, exclaimed at how Thorin and the others were suspended in midair, then called out urgently, "Thorin! Another substantial force of war-goat riders just arrived outside Lake-town, led by a Dwarf we all know well. The very lord who rejected your earlier request. He says he's here by your father's direct command to support Dain's forces."
Thorin and Dain exchanged meaningful glances before shouting down to Gloin with renewed energy, "He's come at the perfect time! Give him exactly one hour to recover from his journey, and then he'll join us in our assault on Dale."
...
Radahn rode his beloved massive horse over the cold, desolate wilderness, each thunderous hoofprint radiating outward with dark-purple ripples of gravitation that disturbed the very fabric of reality.
A hundred elite Redmane Legion soldiers marched in perfect formation behind him, their polished armor issuing a synchronized, low chorus that echoed like distant thunder across the barren landscape.
Radahn, accompanied by the loyal Ogha, fierce Freyja, and the hundred-strong unit, reached the base of Ravenhill as its towering cliffs loomed ominously and faded into swirling mist.
As they approached the ancient fortress, the mountain road grew increasingly steeper, the landscape growing ever more bleak and forbidding.
Goblins had completely occupied Ravenhill's crumbling, ruined stronghold, transforming it into their absolutely foul nest of corruption.
Watchtowers hewn from the living cliffs were now festooned with unknown animal hides and yellowed bones, everywhere rank with the overwhelming stench of Goblin urine and excrement. Makeshift roadblocks constructed from animal skulls completely clogged the mountain paths, packed with rotten fish guts that buzzed with flies as loud as war drums.
Days of intensive Goblin occupation had utterly devastated Ravenhill's natural ecology. All eating, drinking, and excreting in the same spaces, creating layers of accumulated filth.
Countless Goblins scurried through the fortress' winding passages like diseased rats, quickly noticing Radahn's approaching force with their beady eyes.
Ravenhill now swarmed with hastily dug tunnels and burrows gouged out by Goblin claws; green-skinned tides writhed across every available path. A few more days and the entire landscape would become an even worse underground labyrinth.
Obviously Azog had absolutely no intention of properly supplying these Goblins with food or equipment. They were only positioned here as completely expendable fodder.
Radahn paused his advance, floating majestically in the air, surveying the corrupted land spread below with tactical precision.
In crisp, powerfully commanding tones: "Ogha, Freyja. Prepare yourselves for battle."
Both warriors responded immediately, Freyja glancing at Ogha with a relaxed, predatory grin: "First shot's yours, old friend."
Ogha nodded silently, his Redmane boots scattering pristine snow as he moved into position.
Ogha unstrapped his massive war bow, standing taller than any Dwarf, just as three curious Goblins poked their ugly heads from stone cracks to investigate.
He drew the bowstring back with tremendous strength and released a battle roar that shook the mountainside.
The bowstring's vibration thundered like a lion's roar; arrowheads surrounded by swirling gravity vortices twisted the very air into visible spirals, and a devastating rain of gravity-infused arrows cascaded down Ravenhill's winding roads.
The first arrow, on striking solid rock, collapsed into a terrifying black hole, sucking screaming Goblins from the ground and exploding their green bodies into grisly fireworks that painted the stones red.
A second arrow pierced through shoddy wooden barricades like paper and shot deep into a burrow, gravity ripples crumbling the walls like an earthquake, burying the panicked Goblins inside alive under tons of rubble.
As surviving Goblins slipped desperately from the flanks seeking escape, Ogha's final arrow arrived with perfect precision. Gravity magic bound them helplessly to the filthy ground, pinning them into bloodied stone reliefs with their dying screams echoing off the cliffs.
Ravenhill's main paths were completely cleared by Ogha's devastating barrage; Freyja slung her slightly smaller but equally lion-like sword, its leather hilt wrapped in genuine lion mane, emulating her beloved lord Radahn.
She raised her armored right hand high, pointing directly at Ravenhill's heart, and shouted to the Redmane soldiers behind with fierce pride: "Blood of the Redmane! Break their spines beneath your boots! Purge their corruption with cleansing fire! Let these worthless maggots learn who truly rules Ravenhill!"
A hundred iron boots thundered in unified reply, the sound rolling across the mountainside.
Redmane swordsmen lifted their polished brass shields high, charging after Freyja like an unstoppable tide of steel and flame.
Freyja strode confidently over freshly killed Goblin corpses, almost using herself as a living weapon, slamming into Ravenhill's defenses with devastating force.
Goblins shrieked in terror from tunnels and stones above, swinging rusty blades or drawing crude shortbows, desperately aiming poison-tipped arrows at Freyja's armor joints.
"For the eternal glory of our general!"
With a roar every bit as mighty as Ogha's arrow-song, Freyja smashed her lion sword down onto the stone path with tremendous force, tearing a jagged fissure. Using her embedded blade as a fulcrum, she spun with deadly grace, cleaving the first wave of attacking Goblins cleanly in two, her sword slamming a new gouge into the ancient road.
Goblins surged forward desperately, hoping to overwhelm her in that brief midair moment when she should theoretically be vulnerable, stabbing frantically for any unarmored flesh.
But to their complete dismay, Freyja's sword seemed to possess bottomless strength. She spun again with fluid motion, cleaving another attacking wave apart while still suspended midair.
Battle Art: Lion's Valiant Slash
A signature technique among elite Redmane warriors. Strike twice forward in rapid succession with devastating power.
Freyja was Radahn's chosen knight for excellent reason.
"Whoosh!"
Ogha's arrows sang through the air again. While not unleashing another gravity storm, the shafts bore concentrated purple gravitation, staggering Goblins attempting to aim poison darts at Freyja's exposed areas.
A magic-infused arrow nailed a Goblin's skull directly to the cliff face with a wet thud.
Freyja single-handedly shattered the Goblin defense on the narrow path, reaching the wider fortress platform where the real battle would begin.
Here, Goblins were even more numerous, their diseased bodies reeking suffocatingly in the confined space.
With a single devastating slash, Freyja felled five Goblins trying desperately to block the entry; Redmane soldiers seized this crucial opportunity, streaming after her like crimson lightning.
Shield-bearing vanguard soldiers took the dangerous front position, forming an impenetrable wall to block arrow fire, advancing in perfect triangular formation to flank Goblins on the platform and clear vital space for the spearmen behind.
Ogha and his marksmen provided deadly archer and crossbow support from the lower path, each shot finding its mark.
The platform's green Goblins were steadily pushed back by the advancing red tide, their numbers dwindling rapidly.
When sword-and-shield men and spearmen joined forces atop the blood-soaked platform, the front line became tower-shield bearers, pushing forward relentlessly, embedded spikes driving terrified Goblins back.
Second-rank spearmen thrust viciously through shield gaps, their razor-sharp tips shredding Goblins like parchment.
The remaining Goblins became completely frantic, shrieking for reinforcements to flood down, desperately trying to swamp the Redmanes in overwhelming numbers.
Ogha, watching the chaos with tactical calm, gave the decisive order: "Prepare flame pots."
"Redmane flame pots ready!" announced a shout from behind, warning Freyja's forward squad.
"Hold positions!" Freyja commanded with iron discipline; the shields and spears halted instantly.
The Goblins mistakenly thought the Redmanes were hesitating at their superior numbers and screeched mockingly as they charged forward.
Then flame pots soared gracefully above the shields, trailing sulfurous streaks like falling stars, landing with perfect precision on their positions.
On impact, the red pottery burst with explosive force, and crimson pillars of fire erupted like angry spider webs spreading across the stone.
Sticky flame splashed onto Goblin bodies, instantly boring holes through cloth and flesh like acid.
One panicked Goblin slapped frantically at a shoulder flame, but the fire spread hungrily to its hand, the entire arm carbonizing to ash in mere seconds.
At the core of the flame pots, mushroom-shaped smoke clouds rose ominously, and shockwaves toppled every Goblin within five paces. The Redmanes had braced in advance, easily absorbing the impact.
Goblins who hadn't been directly hit suffered far worse. Spattered gel-like flames clung to the walls and kept burning hungrily, turning the entire platform into a corridor of screaming inferno.
Fleeing Goblins stepped blindly in the persistent flames; smoke rose from their ankles, flesh peeled off as they ran, and bones dripped melted fat that sizzled on the stones.
As the final agonized cries faded into echoes, Goblin corpses melded with the superheated stone.
Bodies curled together in the fire, some limbs carbonized to brittle cinders, the air now thick with the nauseating stench of burning flesh and acrid heat.
The flame pots killed relatively few Goblins overall, but seeing their comrades' horrific fates filled the survivors with paralyzing terror.
"Advance without mercy!" Freyja's voice rang out like a battle horn, carrying the edge of an executioner's blade in every syllable for the cowering Goblins.
Tower shield bearers shoved charred corpses aside like debris, clearing a path for further advance into the fortress.
The surviving Goblins shrieked in panic and scrambled desperately to higher platforms filled with more tunnels and primitive traps, clinging to one last hope to ambush their enemies, hoping humans couldn't use flame pots effectively indoors.
Freyja and Ogha now deliberately split their forces for a coordinated two-pronged advance into the fortress' upper heights.
But against such overwhelming skill and power, the crude Goblin traps proved utterly useless. Freyja and Ogha led their troops in a systematic contest of massacre along the heights.
When only three hundred Goblins remained, cowering desperately at Ravenhill's topmost ruined stronghold like cornered rats, Radahn finally drew his legendary Starscourge greatsword.
Its massive tip pierced the air itself, and all of Ravenhill flipped its gravity direction by exactly 180 degrees.
Freyja and Ogha's forces were completely shielded by Radahn's protective magic; the Goblins, utterly unprotected, screamed in terror as they fell helplessly from sheer cliffs and were crushed into bloody stains when gravity suddenly returned to normal.
The metallic rasp of Radahn's sword sliding home brought a final end to the slaughter.
At noon, with the sun high overhead, Ogha planted the Golden Tree banner atop Ravenhill's battered tower, and Freyja placed Radahn's Redmane Lion standard alongside it with ceremony.
Ogha looked to Freyja and said simply: "Tell the Dwarves. Every stone here is now soaked in Redmane fire."
Freyja, watching Radahn reshape the battle-scarred heights with casual gravity magic, replied with satisfaction: "Not only that, but the world should remember this day. General Radahn and the Redmane's first battle in Middle-earth."