The Jade Star
29-01-2007, 06:09
Carts rattled through the Pass of Blades, so called because of its massive obsidian formations. The Goblins had long ago polished a 'road' of flat glass through the area and maintained it well, it was one of the main passes into the Goblin Kingdom. One of the safer ones to, nowadays.
Even so, nervous glances were cast at the cliffsides, at every old cave they passed, and the crows overhead...
Up in the brilliant shards of volcanic glass which no normal human could hope to pass through without being eviscerated, a Goblin drew back his arm, a sphere with a fizzing fuse held in his hand...
One merchant, stretched out on the back of his open topped cart, caught a glimmer of movement in the crags above, he sat up and stared...
Ten Goblins all threw their grenades at once...
The man watched as the little spheres tumbled towards him out of the sky, wondering what they were...
Above, a hundred bows creaked every so slightly as the strings were drawn back...
A brass sphere landed in the cart only a few feet, this close it was obvious what its purpose was. The man opened his mouth to shout a warning...
Ten Goblin bombs went off at once. Nails, bits of rock and metal, and shards of obsidian flew, shredding men, horses and oxen. Above the Goblins released their arrows, showering the convoy in black shafts daubbed in the poison of the Cave Crawlers, nasty beasts whose poison caused the affliction known by its rather poetic Goblin name, Zaac'or Ghuul 'veins of molten steel'. A single scratch was known to send men into screaming fits that could last for a day or more, until their throats gave out and they began to cough up blood.
Confusion reigned below, arrows were falling everywhere, men and horses were screaming and running, and now there were a bunch of Goblins contributing to the screaming. The arrows had stopped, but that was no comfort. Goblins were running and leaping everywhere, warcrys throwing the few guards into confusion. A well trained human guard, which these were, is quite capable of taking on a single Goblin if he keeps his wits about him. Two Goblins is a bit more of a challenge. Anything from three up is nigh on impossible without some kind of magical assistance. When its ten to one and the Goblins arent behaving like proper fighters things get more hairy. Turning to face one Goblin whose taunting you will result in you getting hamstrung by the one who just ran behind you. Then the one whose taunting you will most likely jump on your chest and stab you in the throat while youre busy falling.
A few of the men in question managed to form a tight group, facing in all directions. This is the ideal defence against Goblins, since behind you is where you do NOT want a Goblin with a sharp object. There was a nice stack of dead greenskins piling up at their feet even now.
The flurry suddenly stopped, and the Goblins began to back away...
The one shared thought amoung the men was a fairly simple one, two words long.
A miracle?
No...
"Bûzog-hont...bûzog-hont! Irz! Irz!"
"Sarge...what're they saying?" One of the mercenaries glanced at his sergeant, who knew a little Aldh Ghoblan.
"Something about iron...sight? And then...run? Their accents are awful..."
"S-sarge..."
"Shit..."
A tall man had appeared from behind a rock beside the road. It wasnt large enough to conceal him, not with all the unpleasant black armour he had on. And certainly not with the smoke rising from his eyes.
"Bûzog-hont! Run joo humie' bastids! Run fer it! Ain't no fun if ya stand still!"
The man shot a glare at the Goblin who shouted. He promptly fell silent.
"Gentlemen." He spoke in tones like a great bell tolling, deep and forbidding, "I am called Iron Eyes. I apologize for the...effects. I was...busy."
"Wait...Iron Eyes? The GOBLIN?!" The sergeant was clearly caught somewhere between laughing at this man and running for it.
"Aha, no. It suits my purposes for your lords to THINK I am a Goblin. You see, I wish to kill them all. In any case, my good men, you are alive now because I have an...offer for you. Well...its not really an OFFER as such, its more of...Ah, what is the word...forzunk, to coerce...ah..."
The sergeant swallowed, then realized that his mouth was bone dry, "Errr...threat?"
"Ah, yes. Thank you sergeant. A threat, yes." Iron Eyes smiled, revealing very white, very pointed teeth, "You see, you know my little...secret, which leaves me with no other course but to kill you or take you into my service. as it is, I do not need so many of you. Let me see..." Iron Eyes paused, apparently doing some mental arethmetic, "Half of you should be fine. You seem like an intelligent man, Sergeant. And practical. You could go quite far in my little...regime change."
"What'se talkin' about Sarge? ...sarge?"
The sergeant had a slightly blank look in his eyes, which were fixed on some point in the middle distance as he twisted the dagger he had just inserted into the joint of the soldiers armour, where the left arm met the chest. There was blood.
The others stared blankly.
"Well? Hurry up sergeant, we havent got all day." Iron Eyes was smiling wider now.
The sergeant stared at the man who was now groping at his boots as blood pumped from the twitching hole in his side...
A few moments later he was covered in blood and standing over six corpses. Iron Eyes began to clap.
"Well done sergeant, well done. An excellent execution on the part of the last man there, I didnt think you could do that with a dagger, and youve impressed the Goblins to. But, I dont think I'll be needing the rest of these men after all."
The six left standing turned their eyes towards the tall man in the armour, wide as saucers and rimmed with fear. One broke and ran...then stopped. Two others tried to run, but fell, slicing their faces and hands open on the jagged edges of the road.
"Now now, we cant have you running away before I have my fun." Iron Eyes grinned widely and gestured. The man who had tried to run, struggling madly, floated over to hang in the air at eye level.
With another gesture he was flipped upside down, legs together and arms spread horizontally. Then he began to scream.
Blood was pouring from his nose, ears and mouth. His gut, now visible where the armour had fallen over his head as he was flipped over, looked as though it was boiling under his skin, his eyes rolled up into his head and the scream trailed off into a bubbling noise that went on for far too long...
Once the mans struggles ceased, the was hurled through the air to be impaled on the points of rock jutting from the edges of the canyon.
One by one, the process was repeated, each time some new horrible fate awaited the mercenary in question, leaving him skinless, limbless or otherwise maimed. Only the sergeant was left, his eyes fixed on the sight by the same power that had hurled the men through the air.
"Now then, Sergeant. I believe that takes care of that business. Follow me." Iron Eyes pointed to the rock he had appeared from behind, "You will not regret this, in fact...you will not regret anything, ever."
Even so, nervous glances were cast at the cliffsides, at every old cave they passed, and the crows overhead...
Up in the brilliant shards of volcanic glass which no normal human could hope to pass through without being eviscerated, a Goblin drew back his arm, a sphere with a fizzing fuse held in his hand...
One merchant, stretched out on the back of his open topped cart, caught a glimmer of movement in the crags above, he sat up and stared...
Ten Goblins all threw their grenades at once...
The man watched as the little spheres tumbled towards him out of the sky, wondering what they were...
Above, a hundred bows creaked every so slightly as the strings were drawn back...
A brass sphere landed in the cart only a few feet, this close it was obvious what its purpose was. The man opened his mouth to shout a warning...
Ten Goblin bombs went off at once. Nails, bits of rock and metal, and shards of obsidian flew, shredding men, horses and oxen. Above the Goblins released their arrows, showering the convoy in black shafts daubbed in the poison of the Cave Crawlers, nasty beasts whose poison caused the affliction known by its rather poetic Goblin name, Zaac'or Ghuul 'veins of molten steel'. A single scratch was known to send men into screaming fits that could last for a day or more, until their throats gave out and they began to cough up blood.
Confusion reigned below, arrows were falling everywhere, men and horses were screaming and running, and now there were a bunch of Goblins contributing to the screaming. The arrows had stopped, but that was no comfort. Goblins were running and leaping everywhere, warcrys throwing the few guards into confusion. A well trained human guard, which these were, is quite capable of taking on a single Goblin if he keeps his wits about him. Two Goblins is a bit more of a challenge. Anything from three up is nigh on impossible without some kind of magical assistance. When its ten to one and the Goblins arent behaving like proper fighters things get more hairy. Turning to face one Goblin whose taunting you will result in you getting hamstrung by the one who just ran behind you. Then the one whose taunting you will most likely jump on your chest and stab you in the throat while youre busy falling.
A few of the men in question managed to form a tight group, facing in all directions. This is the ideal defence against Goblins, since behind you is where you do NOT want a Goblin with a sharp object. There was a nice stack of dead greenskins piling up at their feet even now.
The flurry suddenly stopped, and the Goblins began to back away...
The one shared thought amoung the men was a fairly simple one, two words long.
A miracle?
No...
"Bûzog-hont...bûzog-hont! Irz! Irz!"
"Sarge...what're they saying?" One of the mercenaries glanced at his sergeant, who knew a little Aldh Ghoblan.
"Something about iron...sight? And then...run? Their accents are awful..."
"S-sarge..."
"Shit..."
A tall man had appeared from behind a rock beside the road. It wasnt large enough to conceal him, not with all the unpleasant black armour he had on. And certainly not with the smoke rising from his eyes.
"Bûzog-hont! Run joo humie' bastids! Run fer it! Ain't no fun if ya stand still!"
The man shot a glare at the Goblin who shouted. He promptly fell silent.
"Gentlemen." He spoke in tones like a great bell tolling, deep and forbidding, "I am called Iron Eyes. I apologize for the...effects. I was...busy."
"Wait...Iron Eyes? The GOBLIN?!" The sergeant was clearly caught somewhere between laughing at this man and running for it.
"Aha, no. It suits my purposes for your lords to THINK I am a Goblin. You see, I wish to kill them all. In any case, my good men, you are alive now because I have an...offer for you. Well...its not really an OFFER as such, its more of...Ah, what is the word...forzunk, to coerce...ah..."
The sergeant swallowed, then realized that his mouth was bone dry, "Errr...threat?"
"Ah, yes. Thank you sergeant. A threat, yes." Iron Eyes smiled, revealing very white, very pointed teeth, "You see, you know my little...secret, which leaves me with no other course but to kill you or take you into my service. as it is, I do not need so many of you. Let me see..." Iron Eyes paused, apparently doing some mental arethmetic, "Half of you should be fine. You seem like an intelligent man, Sergeant. And practical. You could go quite far in my little...regime change."
"What'se talkin' about Sarge? ...sarge?"
The sergeant had a slightly blank look in his eyes, which were fixed on some point in the middle distance as he twisted the dagger he had just inserted into the joint of the soldiers armour, where the left arm met the chest. There was blood.
The others stared blankly.
"Well? Hurry up sergeant, we havent got all day." Iron Eyes was smiling wider now.
The sergeant stared at the man who was now groping at his boots as blood pumped from the twitching hole in his side...
A few moments later he was covered in blood and standing over six corpses. Iron Eyes began to clap.
"Well done sergeant, well done. An excellent execution on the part of the last man there, I didnt think you could do that with a dagger, and youve impressed the Goblins to. But, I dont think I'll be needing the rest of these men after all."
The six left standing turned their eyes towards the tall man in the armour, wide as saucers and rimmed with fear. One broke and ran...then stopped. Two others tried to run, but fell, slicing their faces and hands open on the jagged edges of the road.
"Now now, we cant have you running away before I have my fun." Iron Eyes grinned widely and gestured. The man who had tried to run, struggling madly, floated over to hang in the air at eye level.
With another gesture he was flipped upside down, legs together and arms spread horizontally. Then he began to scream.
Blood was pouring from his nose, ears and mouth. His gut, now visible where the armour had fallen over his head as he was flipped over, looked as though it was boiling under his skin, his eyes rolled up into his head and the scream trailed off into a bubbling noise that went on for far too long...
Once the mans struggles ceased, the was hurled through the air to be impaled on the points of rock jutting from the edges of the canyon.
One by one, the process was repeated, each time some new horrible fate awaited the mercenary in question, leaving him skinless, limbless or otherwise maimed. Only the sergeant was left, his eyes fixed on the sight by the same power that had hurled the men through the air.
"Now then, Sergeant. I believe that takes care of that business. Follow me." Iron Eyes pointed to the rock he had appeared from behind, "You will not regret this, in fact...you will not regret anything, ever."