I don't really know what to say.
This is just a bit of a story I'm writing.
It might be a waste of time, I dunno.
Urgthad stared out into the darkness. Before him stood many trees, dark at all times. The sun sporadically pierced the ever-growing gloom. Urgthad stroked his long beard. He looked down at his plated armour, strong, sturdy.
Behind him stood some four-dozen dwarves, equipped with the same armour. They held crossbows, short swords and battleaxes. Their formation mixed and unorganised.
After them stood two ox carts, one filled with supplies of pickaxes, hatchets, rations and water, while the other cart held all the crafting and carving necessities.
Urgthad grunted to himself.
His objective was to establish an outpost at the foot of the forest path. This forest, called Somberheid was home to filthy, tree loving, and pointy-eared elves. The Dwarven faction, Zaarthgud, had cut down a little too many trees and polluted a little too many ponds and rivers. So the elves of Somberheid declared war against Zaarthgud and so goes the story.
So now, here Urgthad, High Commander and Champion Axeman, was tasked with leading a bunch of recruits to build a basic outpost of wood. Urgthad spat on the ground and then tasked half of the group to cut downs some trees. The rest were to carve and construct the supports for the wall.
He then went to get a drink from the first ox cart. He cupped some water into his hands and gulped it down. He had a bit more before he heard the first arrow. It landed right beside him.
“Damn it, who did that!?” Urgthad shouted, his face red with anger.
He picked it up and jumped back as a small scroll unfurled itself from the arrow. It read:
LEAVE THIS FOREST AND WE WILL LET YOU AND YOUR PEASANTS LIVE.
YOU HAVE UNTIL DAWN TOMORROW.
He looked up and saw everyone working as normal. In the gloom of the Somberheid forest, he saw a figure move and disappear into the darkness. He glared at the figures opening painted into the forest and ordered his men to hurry with the construction of the outpost.
“You have sixteen hours.” He said, as he looked up at the dying sun.
Urgthad then quickly loaded his crossbow and fire into the forest. Next to him a recruit dropped unconscious. An arrow had landed precisely at the elbow. Another recruit pulled out the arrow and stared at the tip of the arrow.
It was tipped with a darkish green fluid.
***
It was a few hours before dawn. The outpost walls had mostly been built. Urgthad, deciding that an elven siege was imminent, posted crossbowmen atop the wall. He prepared three messengers to notify the main fortress to prepare for an approaching attack and prepared a fallback position. From there they would take off in the remaining ox cart, waving a white flag.
“Sir Urgthad, I see an approaching elven force. I will ready the men.” Said Urgthad’s Personal Sergeant, Durgid. He had a long orange beard, steady hands and a love for approaching death.
Behind Urgthad was the rest of the force, ready for battle and impending death.
And so it began, the Siege of Zaarthgud.
Up atop the wall, Durgid watched as figures emerged from the gloom. They approached the outpost, with a look of confusion on their faces. At that moment, Urgthad ordered the messengers to ride away on an ox cart. They raced forward silently and sped away.
Durgrid clenched his left fist and the crossbowmen took the elves by surprise. They fired a volley of arrows. Some arrows bounced off harmlessly, others puncturing feet, legs and all. Elves fell in a cry of pain and moans rang out on the battlefield.
Archers hidden in the gloom of the trees fired their arrows, silent as a breeze.
Dwarves atop the wall toppled from the walls.
Durgid signalled the archers to get off the wall with the clench of his right fist, as he saw a battering ram approach. They jumped down, their armour absorbing most of the impact. The crossbowmen guarded the one ox cart left behind, as the sound of thudding rang against the walls...
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Topic: The Siege of Zaarthgud (Read 553 times)