NationStates Jolt Archive


The Epic Tale of a Boy's Journey to Become a Man (Eldire)

Aperture Science
04-10-2008, 20:01
It was a cold day in Hell.
Technically it wasn't actually Hell, perse, but just about anybody who had to live there probably would've thought it was. The Goblins didn't know the settlements name, but they'd heard people making the comparison, so that's what they called it.
Not that it mattered much anymore. Nobody lived there now.
Hell, actually the town of Greensford, sat on the edge of the Great Swamp. The main reason for its existence was, apparently, to inflict suffering on its occupants. It had been founded some ten years ago under the assumption that swamps obviously grew lots of plants and stuff, so they had to be rich in nutrients, right?
Right?
Unfortunately the settlers knew nothing about nitrogen content of soil, and quickly discovered that any root crops they planted rotted in about a day.
And then the Goblins came.

The battle, such as it was, had been quick. A few farmers with their tools had been roused in the middle of the night by short, green, men with knives. Most of them expired quite quickly, because the thing that woke them up was their throats being cut. Goblins were keenly interested in human anatomy. Mostly in ways of making it stop working.
This little village was hardly worth it. All the effort expended had netted the little group of Goblins a few kegs of beer and some rusting farm implements. There was no fun, no challenge, and no loot. While fighting for fighting sake was a fine thing, you had to draw the line somewhere.
Goblins usually didn't attack caravans with lots of women and children unless they were really desperate. Most in the outside world speculated that this was because of some sort of honor system. The Goblins knew that they didn't attack those caravans because women and children usually didn't put up any sort of fight worth fighting. And they screamed too much. And all the clothes were frilly and ugly and they wore those skirt-things that dragged in the swamp water and dragged you down to drown.
The village was, or had been, home to perhaps fifty people in all. A road had been built out too it, for some reason. It wasn't a good road. Little more than a dirt path with stone markers on either side. Some of those had already started to sink into the damp earth.
To the Goblins, it was like the shining path to heaven.

"Oi, Ger, lookit' dis. What'cha fink it is?" Urk (Anklebiter Skullcleaver Gutripper son of Mor. Goblins liked to give themselves titles.) prodded one of the stones, which glopped at him, then fell over.

Mor sidled over to inspect the rock. It was next to another rocks, and ended in a pile of rocks by the village. "Mebe issa godrock. I din't know th' pinkies did dat sorta fing."

"Nah, can't be. It ain't got anyfin' on it. See? S'justa rock. Not even a pretty rock. Gotta have a shiny rock ta be a godrock." The rock was closely inspected. It was not shiny, nor, indeed, attractive in any way. It was, quite possibly, the worlds least interesting rock, if detached from its position in a line of other rocks.

"But, see, dey's put it in dis big linna oder rocks. Maybe dey finks if dey puts a whole lotta ugly rocks in a big sorta...sorta...line. Fing. Mebe dey finks dat'l make it a sorta really BIG godrock."

"Hmmm..."
"Hmmm..."

One could almost hear the teeth snapping off the rusty gears in the heads of two Goblins in deep thought.

"I fink its like dem fingies da red's use ta make der fancy pafs frough da swamp."

This was a new voice. The other two looked up.

"See, 'cause dey use dose...light things, ties 'em ta a tree an' stuff. Right?" The speaker was a shorter Goblin, quite a bit less scarred than the other two. He still had all his fingers. "An' dey cud use it as some kinda...like da ropes up on da mountains so's ya don't get lot in da really bad blizzards, see?"

There was a pause. The other two seemed to consider this.

"Naaah! Dat's da dumbest fing I ever 'eard! Why'd dey use dese little stumpy rocks, eh? You'd have ta be an idiot ta use dat fing fer somefin' like dat. Its just a big godrock. Ye'r not even grown up yet, are ya? Gotta niiiice smooth hide on ya." The other two leered at the new Goblin, who blinked.

This was true. Ker was, in fact, not an adult. He was partway there, though. He'd done all the important bits. He'd stolen a weapon from a merchant, killed a cave slug with it, then, unfortunately, lost the weapon to a gelatinous cube. Damn things were everywhere in the lower reaches. He'd been lucky to keep his arm.
He just had to prove himself in battle now. A real battle. And that, apparently, was going to be a problem. The Blood Moon clan was exceptional stable for a Goblin clan. The new Low King had apparently learned to read Human and Elvish and had picked up some ideas on government and how to make sure you didn't get assassinated. He'd also ordered all the halls cleaned up and that everybody had to use these things called 'bathrooms' now. Everybody was calling him 'King Kerk the Human', and were pretty sure he'd start riding a horse and taking baths any moment.
This all led to a serious problem for a number of young Goblins. All the other tribes and clans were watching Blood Moon very carefully in an effort to determine just what the hell was going on. They weren't attacking, because Goblins often wont attack something that's more entertaining than a fight. This was, of course, an exceptionally rare occurrence.
So...Ker had a problem perhaps somewhat unique in Goblin history. He couldn't get into a fight.
And, of course, after the fight there was the thing...
With the knife.
Where you didn't scream.

The other two appeared to be following this line of thought, and when the slightly nauseated, rather pained expression crossed Ker's face, they made sympathetic faces.

"Weeerllll... E'n if its just a godrock, I reckon dere's gotta be somefin' at da end, right? Some kinda shrine or somefin'. Heheh...I bet it'd piss of one o' dere gods real good if we snagged some loot from one o' dere fancy-pants shrine fings." Urk chuckled to himself, "Nufin' like dose priests o' dere's when dey're mad, eh? Froffin' at da mouf."

Mor joined in, "At least til' ya stick a knife in dere froat. Dey don't frof too well after dat."

"Yeah, they bubbles."

"Right. Den dey falls over. Ahch...werrll, lets go tell da boss 'bout dis fing. I bet we'll get a good share o' da loot if we tells 'im an' dere is somefin good."

The little group walked off, back to the town, where a party had broken out. An impromptu game of practice Goblinball (one of the kings orders was that on-duty soldiers weren't allowed to use explosive balls) was in progress. Since the game wasn't much fun if the ball didn't explode, scoring was based on fouls. Goblinball had an extensive list of fouls, almost none of which were penalized. Most fouls were simply recorded and, after the game, displayed. Betting often went on as to which team would score a 'foul victory'.

General Klik was presiding over the game. Which meant that he was throwing things at players he thought were going to slowly. Once informed of the string of rocks leading off to the south, he quickly aborted the game.

"Dat's a ROAD ya idjits! Damn thick-headed son'sa cave crickets! Ya shoulda tol' me dere was somefin' like dat 'round here! Little assbackwards towns like dis don't just grow up on dere own!" He hurled a skull at Mor. He had, apparently, been drinking something out of it. Judging by the way Mor screamed and began trying to wipe the stuff out of his eyes it was Gak. Gak was Goblin beer, which had the consistency of tar and roughly the same taste. And a PH of at least 15. You drank it out of stone, bone, or fired clay. You, on no account, allowed metal anywhere near it.

It took about an hour to round up the Goblins currently engaged in looting, partying and various other activities. Assembling them on the road took another hour, because they had to be re-organized as all of them had forgotten what unit they were in when the march started. Then it took another hour to figure out who the official messenger was.
Five hours after that, Kilk had finished his report to the king, which was about fifty words long and encompassed most of his vocabulary. This was handed to Mor with a strict injunction to NOT eat it.

The raiding party marched off then, Ker in the back with the other unproven Goblins, heading southwards. Only a little ways onward, they encountered a town. It was hardly any bigger than the first one, but it had a wall. It would require a plan.
The Goblins settled down for the night. No sense in rushing a fight, after all. If you were too tired you wouldn't enjoy it.
Hospitlar
05-10-2008, 03:46
The small farming village of Campbell, located on the border between Hospitlar and the uncivilized lands, is the place where the Goblins surrounded. Lucky for the town the farming season is over, so most of the people are inside the walled town. The unlucky ones are slaughter by the Goblins.

Campbell is in the region of Hosland. Hosland is part of the Great Grassland, that stenches across the peninsula of Taller. Hosland is the culture of Gallic, like the region to the west, Picland. While the region to the east, Hellia and of the south, Rumula, are Romeek. But now I’m getting away from the story.

Campbell lack any Hospitallers, not even a militia. The closes town with any resemblance of a military is 10 miles west, call Johnston. So the Mayer of Campbell, Old McCool does the only thing that any person, who didn’t know anything about Goblins, does. He and a couple of the stronger farmers collect what precious items they have to give to the Goblins. For, the high wooden walls would not last long nor could they live inside the town for long, two days tops.

As the group of farmers prepare to exit the safety of the town and into the Goblin encampments, McCool orders Young Sonny to run as fast as he can to Johnston. So they open the little door in back of the town and Young Sonny, with his red hair fluttering in the breeze, runs like the dickens out of dodge.

Old McCool rubs his long white beard; he takes his necklace from underneath his shirt and places it in his hand. His chapped lips kiss the wooden Cross of Hos and places his hands to his side. With a movement of his balding head, him and the rest of his crew, exit the gate and down to the encampment. The men in the town play the bag pipes to encourage the small crew of farmers and the women smoke their cigarettes, prying to Prometheus for their safe return.
Aperture Science
05-10-2008, 19:32
The Goblins considered this. Having killed everybody too slow to get in the enclosure, it had been more or less uneventful while the towns people did whatever it was townspeople who are besieged do. This probably involved starving, or eating rats. Or something like that.

The Goblins hadn't really besieged the town in the true sense, of course. They'd more or less surrounded it, but in a rag-tag sort of way that left a number of holes in the line that an clever and rather desperate young man could slip through if he was highly motivated. We can only assume that Young Sonny got through, because the only two heads hurled over the wall were the emissaries. What exactly became of the bodies is best left up to the reader in this case, but it was probably quite horrible.

Having been sufficiently annoyed by the attempt at parlay, Klik gathered his captain and the sergeants. Clearly, he said, the Blood Moon clan hadn't gotten a proper reputation established in these parts just yet. Anybody who sent people to try to BARGAIN with Goblins was either insane, a complete coward, or had no clue who he was dealing with. So, this town would have to be Made An Example Of.
Actually, what he said was, "Dese fergin' sonsa three-legged pigs ain't got da spine, da brains or da balls ta put uppa good fight, but dey're too freakin' stupid ta even know 'bout us, so we're gonna teach da whole freakin' place about da Blood Moons! Get'cher blades boys, we're gonna cut some froats!"

Over the course of the next day, the Goblins were hard at work. The townspeople, unless they happened to be in their basements with their ears pressed to the ground, probably wouldn't have noticed this, however. This might have been because of the puppet show going on in front of the towns gate.

The puppets in question were quite large. The humans were larger than the Goblins manning them, in fact. It took three Goblins, on average, to work the human puppets, and two for the Goblin puppets.

The puppet show was, in fact, a very detailed account of what was going to happen to the town. There were several casualties among the puppeteers. Especially the bit where the stage burned down.

Meanwhile, under the town, five tunnels were converging on the town center. They were far down. Far enough to avoid any basements, and to get under the towns wall. Working with shovels and picks, the Goblins made good progress. By midnight, they would converge at exactly the right spot. It was the sort of special magic that a good portion of a Goblin's brain was dedicated too. They could dig their way out of just about anything, and come out to within a foot of their goal.
Hospitlar
06-10-2008, 01:39
Young Sonny finally makes it to the gates of Johnston. Tire and his little legs aching he calls to the two Order of St.John guardsmen at the tower.

“Good Sirs open the gate, I have urgent news.” He says as he pounds on the great wooden door.

The young guards look over the wall to see what all the ruckus is about. He then turns to the older guard.

“Hey, Adeipho, there’s a small little Hos boy at the door.”

“So…what does he want Christoverus?”

“Beats me, he keeps yelling about something important or another.”

“Well if it’s important let the poor Hos kid in…yeash.”

The gates open and Sonny slowly walks inside. The gate closes with a thud. The older guard meets Sonny.

“Boy, what’s the matter? Judging from your tattered kilt and dirty shirt, it seems as if you came from afar.”

At first not noticing the older guard talk to him. Sonny is amazed at how big the town is, well big in comparison to Campbell. He then notices a giant stone castle in the middle.

“Wow, what a big builder.”

“Yes, the building is pretty huge, now what is so important that you wanted to tell us.”

“..Oh yeah…terrible news, my town of Campbell is being attacked by Goblins.”

“Goblins. That’s just prime.” Adeipho says under his breath. Well you go to that house over there. A nice woman will take care of you.”

The boy walks off to the house as, Adeipho heads to the castle. He enters the great hall where the Lord of the surrounding land sits. He kneels down and begins to talk.

“Sir Knight Dara, a boy has come to Johnston and told me his village of Campbell is under attack. What should we do?”

The old man rises from his chair and walks to the Order of St. John Knight. He places his hand on his shoulder.

“We must do what we were made to do. We must go help the meek and powerless, it is in the code.”

“I know that Sir Knight, I’ve done my homework.”

“Then why did you come to me?...Ready the Order, call up the militia.”

“But sir we have but you and ten other St. Johns and maybe I can rise up 200-250 peasants. Sir Knight that will not be enough.”

“I know that is why I want you to ride to Castle Grey Skull, 23 miles south of here. There lays a bigger army that can help. And tell Chris to ride to Hospitlar and warn the Blessed King of this invasion of Goblins.”

“Aye sir, but what will you do?”

“I will hold these Goblins off as long as possible. For it is my duty and honor.”

“Aye Sir Knight, it will be done.”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________
Meanwhile Back at Campbell, what is left of the town tries to sleep during the night. But none can, so they huddle together in their basements, smoking their cigarettes, hoping that Prometheus will answer their preys.
Aperture Science
06-10-2008, 16:31
It was generally concluded by the Goblins that the best part of any suprise attack was the suprise. Therefore, it was agreed, it should be as suprising as possible. The explosives now being piled under the town center were, it was thought, generally suprising, but that was always an element in Goblin sieges. It was, almost, not suprising.
This had led to a long discussion about the nature of suprise, how to suprise somebody, and the best methods for doing so. It was agreed, after much discussion, that the best way to suprise the townsfolk would be to do something unexpected. Suprising, even.
Exactly what the suprise would be was a matter of more debate. Eventually everybody went their own way on the matter.
Then somebody suggested rockets.
Goblins had been using rockets ever since they got their hands on gunpowder. It was a method of blowing things up without you having to be right next to the explosion. Sure, this took some of the fun out of it, but you could do it over and over again and not lose any limbs or die. This was considered a valuable bonus.
There were several rockets in the supply train large enough to, say, strap a Goblin to. After a bit of work, every new 'rocketeer' was issued with two of the dresses from the previous village, now with the arms and neck hole sewn up. These would, once the rocket began to fall, be let go of. Being secured to the Goblin's wrists by a length of rope they would open up and slow his fall.
Hopefully.

It was midnight when the plan went into effect. It was executed with typical Goblin efficiency.
This meant that, in fact, it took place three hours after the agreed upon time because somebody had lost the matches.
The first phase was simple enough. The fuses leading to the explosives under the town were lit. It would take, roughly, a minute for the explosives to go off now. However, some clever Goblin mining team had determined that it would be a shame to waste all of their powder, and had packed their tunnel as well, which meant that their end went off almost instantly after the fuse was lit. This resulted in the entire tunnel exploding, creating something like a giant exclamation point done in rubble.
It was also discovered that, while the rocket idea was fine in principal, it was extremely difficult to aim. And that clinging to a burning package of explosive was unnerving, even for Goblins. And that the ones who weren't unnerved were far too busy enjoying themselves to bother much with jumping off before their rockets exploded.
Two of the eighteen Goblin rockets actually landed in the town. One crashed through a houses roof, setting fire to it, and then exploded. The resulting rain of Goblin pattered down on all those around for a few seconds.
The second volunteer managed to get off the rocket, but found himself rathaer alone.
Meanwhile, outside, the Goblin army was doing what Goblins do best in these circumstances, which was charging. The force was equipped with a hodge podge of ladders, rams, axes, ramps and, in a few optimistic cases, vaulting poles.
And all of them were screaming at the top of their lungs.
Somewhere at the back a band had struck up. Its tune was virtually overruled by the massive wardrum, easily visible from the town. The drum itself was nearly eight feet in diameter, on a large cart heavily decorated with various skulls, bits of loot, skins, and other, less mentionable, items.
It was manned by a Goblin who could almost pass for man-sized, swinging what looked like a warhammer wrapped in some sort of hide. The whole thing was covered in all manner of unpleasant runes which, if one could read Goblinese, could be seen to be a list of previous famous battles this drum had been present for, as well as famous people killed in those battles, whose various bits now decorated the drum.
The Goblin drew the hammer back in long, wide, swings. It took a second or two each time to bring the hammer full around.
Each swing produced a deep, rumbling, Ba-DOOM which seemed to reverberate for several seconds, drowning out the screaming, the music, the sound of the rockets, and the dying echo of the explosion. The drum, the cart, and the drummer all seemed to waver with the vibrations.
It was also, apparently, driving the Goblins even more crazy than they already were. Once each drumbeat faded away, the screaming seemed louder, the Goblins seemed faster, and the bloodlust in their eyes seemed that much bloodier. The ones with bows or guns promptly began peppering the wall with shot, and, when they got closer, hurling bombs over it. A few of these, as always, exploded within the wave of green, creating temporary gaps that were quickly filled in by those eager to get to the front.
The wave of Goblins rapidly closed on the town, while, overhead, a number of smaller rockets zoomed and whistled overhead as the sappers at the rear scrambled to drop as much explosive on the town as they could.
Hospitlar
07-10-2008, 00:14
The white hair and leather face Dara is holding a pray in the Temple of Prometheus.

“The God who tricked the King and gave man civilization, I pray to thee. Today is the day I hope to finally die in glorious battle. You gave this honor to many of my friends and comrades but left me old and ruler of dirt. I do not wish for these, politics bores me and there is no honor in that filthy business. So I pray that I may die today, give me this honor my Prometheus. I have no sacrifices to give you but myself. If I am taken by death in battle, that will be my slaughtered lamb to you.”

A St.Johns enters the Temple. His heavy boots clang against the stone floor.

“Pardon me Sir Knight; the men are ready to march.”

Dara stands up from his kneel and stares at the eager young St.Johns.

“How many men could you muster?”

“Only 201 men Sir, ranging from the age of 14-50. We also have ten, including yourself, Hospitallers and St.Johns.”

The old man shakes his head, his long white hair brushing his shoulders.

“Hopefully that will be enough. Now leave me, I will join you shortly.”

“Aye, Sir Knight.”

The St.Johns left and Dara steps into an adjoining room, where a Prairie Man waits for him. Using his stubby finger to pick his gopher teeth, he tries to say. “Is it time Master?”

“Yes Dog, place my armor on me.”

The furry, short, creature went to work. He struggles to put on Dara his chain mail, and then struggles even more to put the plate armor on. The Prairie Man than hands Dara his sword and shield. Dara holds the sword close to his lips as if he is going to kiss it.

“O.K. Lucile, time to go to work one last time.” He then sheaths the swords and places the shield with the eight pointed cross with a torch over top, on his back. This makes him slouch some. He walks out of the temple, where a St.John awaits him with his battle cat. For only Hospitallers may ride the great tiger of the grassland. The old knight struggles to hop on his battle cat, clad with sparkling armor, so the St.Johns gives him a push up. Dara than rides out of the town to meet his rag tag army.

As he exits the town, all the peasant solders, holding their farm tools, cover in pots and pans; look at Dara for answers with fearful eyes. Dara has seen those sort of eyes before, they fear the upcoming battle.

“Strong Men of Hosland.” Dara cries

“I know you are afraid and there is no shame to be. I too fear but I fear of me failing my kingdom, our kingdom.” He says as he grabs the flag of Hospitlar, the flag pictures a crown on the bottom, the Saint John’s Cross on the left, and the torch of Prometheus to the right, from one of the peasants. He tries his best to raise the flag over his head.

“But this upcoming battle with the Goblin scum, you must not fear them but fear the failing of battle. Yes they are greater in number, yes they have an unquenchable thrust for blood, and yes they have strange technology. But we shell win for we cannot afford to lose. For if we lose, the Goblins will have free range over your lands. So bring out your bravery, bring out you honor. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother, be he ne'er so vile. This day shall gentle his condition and gentlemen in Hospitlar now-a-bed. Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here and hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks. That fought with us upon the day that Pallas slew Python.”
Cheers ring out from the crowed. Dara hands the flag back, almost falling of his battle cat but quickly regains his composure. He than unsheathes his sword and mumbles an enchantment. The sword begins to spark than become engulf in blue flames. He wields the flaming sword above his head and yells

“Follow me to Campbell, for glory and victory.”He sighs to himself, “Follow me to your slaughter.”

The army of farmers start to march towards Campbell. The high grass swaying to the battle hymns from bag pipes.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________

Adeipho reaches the gates of Grey Skull.

“My fellow brothers, Goblins have invaded our lands. I must speak to the Sir Knight Field Marshall.”

They let him in and he tells of the Goblin invasion of Campbell and that Sir Knight Dara will do his best to delay them. The Field Marshall orders his Captain to ready the knights and the militia. Organizing them would take a day.
_______________________________________________________________________

Back at Campbell, the noise is horrendous to man ears and rather annoying. But it strikes fear to the town’s people. One of the men exit the safety of his basement and sees fire drop from the sky, buildings on fire, the pieces of Man and Goblins in the square, and Goblins coming over the wall. He quickly runs back to the safety of his basement.
The New Aryan State
07-10-2008, 01:02
OOC: Once more unto the breach, dear friends! Once more!
Aperture Science
07-10-2008, 05:17
(OOC:
Goblins only enter the breach once. But it damn well stays entered ;) )

Ker ran with the crowd, a single drop in a seething ,writhing, sea of green. He had been lucky enough to secure himself a ladder and, with the aid of another Goblin was running towards the wall with it. His previous misgivings about the battle, niggling doubts and fears of self preservation, were banished by the drumbeat. It seemed to jar his brain into some sort of...something.
It was hard to describe.
Thoughts flashed in his head like glow worms. His brain felt as if somebody was pouring molten gold directly into whatever drove his legs. He was aware, vaguely, of a presence at the back of his mind. It jumped up and down and waved to get his attention, but was easily ignored.
Now at the wall, he hurled himself forward, taking the ladder with him. The thunk of wood on wood (and Goblin on wood) barely registered as he hurled himself up and over the wall, landing on a street of some sort. The beat still crashed through his head, demanding action, demanding that he kill something. Anything. All it wanted was blood.
Goblins were pouring over the wall now. The wave had crested, and now it was filling the town in. Like a sandcastle in the rising tide, the wall was washed away, and the incoming wave began to drag individual grains away. Groups of Goblins, acting almost like a single mind, would hurl themselves on anything that moved, stabbing, slashing, biting and clawing. Wound's didn't matter, because the Goblins had the beat.
It was, almost, as if it stood in for the heart. What might seem like a deathblow would often be shrugged off, at least for a little while. A goblin with a sword in its heart or an arrow in its eye could go on for several minutes in this state.
Ker, clutching his scimitar in one hand and a blacksmiths hammer in the other, smashed the nearest door in. A house of some sort, something at the back of his mind told him. Brief flashes of things registered. Flowers in the window, sort of like his cave back home. They'd had a box of mushrooms outside the entrance to the main cavern. Knives, a stove, a loaf of bread, tables, chairs...it was almost familiar, if somewhat out of scale.
That didn't matter at this point, though, because the majority of his mind was set on finding something to end.
Hospitlar
07-10-2008, 19:34
About a mile away from Campbell, the 211 men hear the screams and see the town on fire. A St.Johns scout reports his findings to Dara.

“Sir Knight, you were right about the numbers, there are great many more of those Goblins then us. But most of them are concentrated on the front gate of the town.”

“Well this is good news.” Dara says as he readjusts his helmet. “We shell bring our forces around the main concentration of Goblins and attack them from behind. Once we are behind them, the cavalry will rush in. Hopefully confusing and dispersing the Goblins. Then the footmen will follow suit.”

“Aye Sir Knight, I will tell the men right away.” The St.Johns then goes forth the explain the men the plan.

Talking to himself, Dara says “Maybe we can outsmart them enough so we will not be crushed by their superior numbers and last more than a minute.”

* * *
The small force reaches behind the Goblin army. The men twitch, waiting for the order to charge. Dara puts the force into two boxes, each box holding 100 men,10 across and 10 deep. Dara then rides in front of the men, with his flaming sword high in the air.

“Now, my brave men, today you are not men of Hosland but men of Hospitlar. Today I knight you all. So no longer are you simple farmers but Knights for Prometheus and as such will fight like Hospitallers. The Blessed King once told me, “Dara in times of trouble, when no hope can be found. When the night is darkest. The dawn will always shine in at the end with pure light.” Knights this story is true, hope will always follow the bad and ugly times and I promise you, right here, right now, the dawn is coming for we are the dawn.”

Knowing that everything he said was a lie, but a white lie to pump up his men. For Dara does not have the power of knighting because only the Grand Marshall is reserve for that honor nor has the Blessed King ever spoken to Dara. But they do not know that.

Dara turns his battle cat to face the Goblins, he quickly pulls his sword down. The signal for the cavalry to charge. And they do not hesitate to charge, their fears and worries falling off their backs with each gallop, screaming at the top of their lungs.(thunderous rebel yell).
Aperture Science
08-10-2008, 05:17
The Goblins in town were far too busy enjoying themselves. Smoke was rising from a few spots now and the screams were quite clearly audible when the massive drum was silent.
The milling Goblins at the back of the line, having ceased their barrage, took some interest in the group of humans who formed up behind them. They had been somewhat dissapointed by the lack of fighting on their part. The explosions had been nice, but it was more fun to get up close and personal.
Maybe an opportunity would present itself after all...
A sergeant appeared, screaming at the sappers to get into a line and passing out pikes for the initial charge. The Goblin phalanx was not exactly intimidating. The height of the creatures made it difficult to position the pike in such a way as to hit the horse while still bracing it in the ground in such a way that the weapon didn't instantly snap. But its main purposes was to draw momentum away from the cavalry, so that the Goblins behind the line could do their work.
At the same time, skirmishers who had been left out of the charge quickly scuttled up behind the pikes, taking potshots at the riders with bows and muskets. And the occasional rock.
Meanwhile, the charging cavalry and infantry would need to make their way through the Goblins camp. The ground was strewn with tents, tables, fires, rocks, weapons and garbage, as well as a number of latrine pits, all waiting to tangle the legs of a horse, or careless footman.
Hospitlar
08-10-2008, 20:40
The well trained knights easily pass by the camp but a few peasants tripe and became trample underneath the feet of the men behind them.

The knights clash against the Goblin pikes, blood of the horses spray out, dredging the Goblins. All the knights fall and fight on foot but not Dara. The Goblins not use to seeing the great tiger of the grasslands run in fright and with his flaming sword swipes at the Goblins. The giant paws of the battle cat cuts any Goblin who dares approach the beast. The peasants, running on nothing but adrenalin join the fight.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________ __________

The Grey Skull army, headed by Sir Knight Field Marshall Belisarius Canio Julius, march to Campbell. 400 Hospitallers and St.Johns, riding on their tank-like horses and battle cats, sing songs of battle and honor. While the 3,000 militia men bang their weapons against their wooden shields, keeping the singing on beat.
________________________________________________________________________

St.Johns Christoverus makes it to the golden doors of Hospitlar. He heads to the Castle of Rhodes, home of the Blessed King Cathmor Adair. He asks one of the Rhode’s guardsman if he can see the Blessed King. The guard signals him to follow. They enter the Hall of Kings, the Hall fill with statues and mosaics of past kings and chieftains. Christoverus kneels in front of Blessed King Adair.

“My Grand Marshall and Blessed King, Goblins have invaded the northern lands of Hos. We ask for the army of Hospitlar for aid.”

The Blessed King nods and not looking at the worn out St.Johns says “Leave, I will discuss this matter with the High Counsel.” He waves him off nonchalant.

“If I may my King, I have traveled very far to ask for aid and people are dying, not just men but women and children too. For all that our Farther Prometheus has made, a decision must be made now, we cannot wait but so long.”

The King sits up from his gilded thrown, walks up to the young Romeek and kicks the kneeling man down. “Do not tell your superior what to do! Nor question my judgment! I will not let just a St.Johns speak to me in such a way. Now leave before I make you a guest of Hell’s Tower.*”

Christoverus sits up. “Aye, Grand Sir Knight.” He walks out of the hall and whispers to himself, “You flippin’ dog.”*

*Hell's Tower: As you can imagin, a very bad place were the king's enamies are sent to.

*flippin’ dog: F.U. you piece of dirt
Aperture Science
10-10-2008, 00:19
The Goblins in the forefront of the fight had now abandoned their pikes, opting instead to rely on their traditional scimitars and hooked swords. Frantic screeching seemed to have got the attention of the frenzied Goblins in town, because a few were hauling themselves back over the wall, or through the, now broken, gate.
It was this point that the first goblin bomb went off. The deafening 'Bang!' threw back everybody within a yard of the detonation point, spraying shrapnel and other, less sharp but rather more unpleasant, projectiles across the area. This was quickly followed by a series of blasts across most of the line, on both sides. The inherent instability of the powder used by Goblins, which gave goblin bombs their fearsome power, tended to blow up if one so much as breathed too hard on it.
Meanwhile, the tiger and its rider were beginning to attract attention. Waving a flaming sword around in front of a crowd of Goblins was a great way to become an instant target for every projectile weapon in the area. A number of the little spherical goblin bombs were already arcing towards the tiger and its rider, while a group of Goblins, oblivious to the incoming grenades were busily attempting to find a way to prod the tiger and its rider with various spears or swords.
The Goblins not occupied with the knights were, meanwhile, using their favored tactic of first hamstringing, then swarming over, the peasants. Typically this was accomplished with a knife, often by simply running between a mans legs, turning around and hacking at the backs of the knees, slicing the tendons in the legs and sending the unlucky man pitching forward into a crowd of pointy bits.
Hospitlar
11-10-2008, 05:53
OOC:Sorry AS, i havn't responded yet but i'm having a little writers block in this thread. I'll try to post soon though
Aperture Science
11-10-2008, 06:00
OOC:Sorry AS, i havn't responded yet but i'm having a little writers block in this thread. I'll try to post soon though

(OOC:
Its fine. I, too, have completely forgotten where I was originally going with this :P
I'm sure we can work something out, though.)
Kewen
14-10-2008, 07:53
All was not quiet on the Dwarf-Goblin Border, the Dwarfs seeking to prevent a goblin raid, inlight of many recent and disturbing events had advanced futher inland to a narrow land bridge that wasnt that far across, as one could stand on one side and see the ocean on the other if one looked closely or stood a bit high off the ground.

With more Dwarfs, supplies andbuilding materials coming forward, the preliminary construction was doen for the fort, it would be one single fort, armed with a few dozen cannons and the "Dwarf shot" device, (i wll post pics of it soonish) with the main Keep being inthe center of the cause way, and a wall extended each way for about 100-140 meters covering each way, A single large gate would allow access to both sides, and the actually front of the entine fort would be about 10-20 meters forward, as leading up to the battlements is a small dirtpacked ramp steeped slightly upwards, estimated time till completion of the whole project, was about a year months if a few certain critiera were met, the main parts needed, were the first line of defenses and the trench which was the first fall extending across the whole land bridge, that could be completed fairly quickly, trenches would be done within a week or too, as it wasnt that deep nor to wide.

Most of the Dwarfs were optimistic as Construction began, everyone was helping build the first walls, while only a dozen or so actually stood guard weapons and sheilds were nearby.

ooc: basically, im trying to build a nice little ole wall between me and you, the goblins, you can try and slow it down if you want, but if at all possible maybe we could have some captured gobbins helping build the dang thing, and then we can have a big seige!
Phenixica
23-10-2008, 00:41
News was quick to reach Lord Jacob at the Ruined city of Lorein.

"Goblins? we have had no problem with the west for years, how could they bypass our borders and attack the Hos without any notice?"

"Most of our patrols run the northern border my Lord, with the Western Mountains blocking the border there was never much point of putting patrols there since we thought we controlled the only road in or out"

The building there were in was a sad sight, the roof was all but caved in and the door was just a large plank of wood. The Lord would sleep in a corner covered with some tanned hides, but this city was all he had to protect the western pass.

Jacob writes down three letters to be sent, if the system is still working the one going to the Hos should arrive by sometime tommorrow (wink wink)

1st was for the King telling him what had happened and what he had done to correct it.

2nd was telling the man incharge of the mining garrison to get off his backside and start increasing his patrols, otherwise he would find his head no longer attached to his torso.

The 3rd went like this


This is Lord Jacob of the Garrison of Lorein, we have had reports of Goblins running through our southern land into your border and wish a confirmation of this so we can then decide on what action to take.

If the Goblins are roaming your territory I assure you that we will do what is needed to stop these incursion and 'clean up' the matter with Steel and Gunpowder.

Yours Sincerely,

Lord Samuel Jacob of the Western Plain

The riders follow the paved road to the East, just as they ride off the sound of there hoves make the walls of a ruined house near them fall down. The Lord smiled bitterly.

What a proud day to be in the Standing Army.