The ground trembles as an army of 150,000 marches as one. A constant drumming of synchronized steps, like a giant snake sliding smoothly across the lands. The army stopped in front of their capital city - Berwuhr, which was about to be sieged a few moment later. Up close it's the clanging of heavy armor which overpowers all other sounds. The thumping steps of the armored dwarves can be heard only faintly and the sounds of the war mounts are all but drowned out completely. Nobody speaks a word to each other during the march, maybe they were focusing on the up-coming battle, but there's too much noise to talk anyway. The entire army is as one. All with the same goal in mind and all eager to fulfill it. Destroy the enemy or die trying.

The Gold Skull's enemies this time was the Alliance of Three Human Kingdom. Thanks to the discovery of rare metals and other useful resources around The Gold Skull's capital city Berwuhr, every single clan set their eyes on the big city that was build behind a giant mountain. With the combination of 220 thousands swordmen, 70 thousands archers, 30 thousands calvary units and 8,000 siege weapons, the three human kingdom ordered their armies to charge toward the main wall and gate of Berwuhr.

"Foolish humans..." One of the officer, laughed as he watched the humans alliances charged toward their direction.

What The Gold Skull wasn't expecting was that there were few traitors among the high officers, as a flare was shoot out into the sky. The mighty dwarf armies of 150,000 turned against each other and start killing regardless who's on who's side.

The city is littered with gore, wounded fighters and blood. Red, silver and black are the new colors of what was once a bright city, which has now become the stage of a long, destructive battle. The air which would normally be packed with a wide array of city sounds is now glowing red with fire and thick with smoke, ash and embers, enough to make even the bravest tremble in fear.

Few armies were fight each other for supremacy, but the victor is obvious. The dead of the losing side are abundant and lay in heaps around the city and the faces of the fighters are grim with anguish and despair, but they refuse to give up. With the thought of victory in their minds the winning side fights as if they're invinsible. Some have succumbed to fatigue and are no longer able to defend themselves and too tired to care, while others fight merely for the sake of survival. The toll on both nature and humanity is tremendous. It'll likely take generations before this city will have recovered. It's clear explosion holes, rubble and bodies have taken the place of schools, homes and businesses.

"The traitors have breached into the high castle, please escape as once your highness!" A soldier shouted to King Orbun II, as he and other few soldiers stationed and prepared behind a door, hope to hold the position long enough for the king to escape.

"Curse you traitors!" Orbun II was deeply shocked that the fact the great clan of The Gold Skull was never been conquered by other clans since the beginning, fall into the hands of few traitors.

"No! I won't leav..." The only few lefted loyal officers dragged Orbun II behind a wall which turned out to be a secret passage, and escorted Orbun II to the second dock of Berwuhr safety. There were few medium sized ship, every ship were filled with refugees and some wounded soldiers and they set sail away from here, hopefully they can find a suitable place and start all over again.

The people of Citrus Crest are humble farmers, tilling and tending a fertile piece of land under the watch of the locally named "Citrus Mountain" seen in the near distance. Their ancestors arrived sometime along the southern delta past the lonely island off the coast. The 7 original families were opportunistic immigrants looking for greener pastures and had entered a mutual pact of protection with each other.

Through their initial founding of but 7 original families(The Limes, The Wheats, The Oranges, The Peaches, The Rye, The Bakers, The Millers) years of trial and error, boons and disasters they have an adequate understanding on local flood patterns, seasonal rains, and planting seasons for a fair bit of plants. That said, domestication of local beasts is seldom, encompassing a singular breed of proto-dogs descended from the the hounds of old.

They are lead by a local council, a rudimentary democracy which is ran by 7 elected members.

The agrarian life-style affords large families and larger harvest festivals, the peaceful Citrus Crescent Peoples are jovial and friendly, which comes with its own perils. Weapons and armor are primitive and a small token law keeping militia is the extent of their military might.

The Citrus Crescent People sport a tasty and innocent peach on their heraldry.

Interestingly enough these people took a rather comical settlement name believing that irony will spare them the wrath of nature and thusly named their settlement:

Banana Fort, a town where it's namesake fruit is hard pressed to grow and whose only defensive emplacement is... Nothing actually, just dirt and huts.