With the Warg threat confirmed, Deacon had to pivot his final preparations from defense against infantry to defense against shock cavalry. This was a critical, high-visibility task that required seamless cooperation between Engineering and Tactics.
Deacon met Corporal Miller (S-7) and Staff Sergeant Rodriguez (S-3) at the North Gate. The gate was the city's weakest structural point, but the only place wide enough for the Goblins to attempt a massed charge.
"Report, Corporal Miller," Deacon commanded.
"We are reinforcing the gates with cross-beams, Sir. But the wood is old. A Warg running full tilt will splinter it."
"It only has to hold for one minute," Deacon stated. "We will make the space outside the gate a killing field. Renna, how are the Trios reacting to the threat?"
Rodriguez (Renna) was running her trios through anti-cavalry drills—an absurd sight of farmers trying to brace wooden spears against an invisible, massive hound.
"They are scared, Sir. They understand the spear won't stop the beast. We need a physical deterrent to break the charge before it hits the line."
The Caltrop Fields
Deacon produced the crude, sharpened bone fragments Tate had acquired from the tanner's boneyard.
"We fight Wargs with this, Staff Sergeant. Caltrops. Corporal Miller, your team must distribute these across the fifty feet of open ground directly in front of the gate. They must be scattered at random density, hidden just beneath the surface dust. They must not be visible to the eye."
Miller knelt and examined the sharpened bones, his engineering mind calculating the physics. "They'll turn the Warg's foot, Sir. It won't kill it, but it will break the charge and possibly the animal's leg. We can deploy them under the guise of 'strengthening the mud with holy bones' to appease the priest."
"Use the mud. Use the priest. Just hide them," Deacon instructed.
Rodriguez's tactical mind immediately saw the potential. "If the Wargs stop, my trios can focus their spears on the injured beasts. The chaos buys us the crucial seconds we need."
"Exactly," Deacon confirmed. "And Miller, you have one more crucial task. The top of the North Gate—where the Heavy Artillery (the stones) is ready—it is too exposed. I need a way for the militia up there to reload their stones without being seen."
Miller ran a quick, professional assessment of the rampart structure. "Sir, the outer wall of the gatehouse is sheer stone. I can build a crude sloping chute out of leather and pitch-soaked wood, running down from the rooftop stockpile to the rampart below. They can slide the stones down the chute without exposing themselves."
"Do it, Corporal. And label the chute 'The Dragon's Mouth' for the benefit of the local populace. Use the fear, use the deception. This entire defense is now a theatrical performance for the Goblins."
A Lesson in Command
As Miller and Rodriguez began coordinating the caltrop deployment and chute construction, Deacon watched the two soldiers work—the engineer and the tactician, speaking the same, efficient language of combat professionals.
He pulled Rodriguez aside for a moment of personal counsel.
"Renna. You are fighting the Goblins with farm equipment. Your trios will break. They are not Marines. When the charge hits, I need you to lead the controlled retreat to the inner barricades—the ones Miller built near the central square. If you hold the gate too long, you lose the entire city."
Rodriguez looked him in the eye, her military identity absolute. "Understood, SFC Hayes. Controlled withdrawal is a doctrine I know well. But what is your final move? You haven't told us your personal deployment."
Deacon looked up at the rooftops, where the agile figures of Pyper and Elan (The Pepper Twins) were already positioning themselves, seemingly unaware they were the city's last line of defense.
"My final move is Command and Control, Sergeant. I will be at the central Hold. I will be coordinating the Artillery and the Shock Weapons. But when the gates go down, I have one reserve asset: Project Grog. And I have one man I trust to deploy it."
He didn't specify who would deploy the final charge. He couldn't afford to commit to that decision yet. It was the hardest choice of the siege: who to sacrifice for the final, decisive shock weapon.
Rodriguez saluted him—a quick, almost imperceptible gesture hidden by a nod of a peasant woman to her Lord. "I will ensure we live long enough for your command to matter, Sir."