So this is a partially true story, based off of one recruit who killed a third of a 150 strong goblin siege, including the general, before they finally fled. Enjoy!
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The goblins had come. They never came in such numbers before, not like this. Scouts reported over one thousand goblins, headed by one who never drank, ate, or slept, riding on a troll. He wielded a silver maul in one hand, and a ☼steel spear☼, stolen from marauding kobolds, in the other. They had cut through the human towns and the outlying hillocks, with few casualties on their behalf. And now, they came to challenge Mountainhome.
Urist McSaveme, the king of the dwarves, ordered the gates shut, anyone outside abandoned, and kittens butchered to make more meat. When the obsidian gate finally slammed shut, after a month of the order going ignored, the people were scared. Ten hunters had been outside, along with many woodcutters, fisherdwarves, and, oddly, a miner. Over forty dwarves had been abandoned; husbands and wives, babies and children, even a really good metal smith who went out to get his favourite food, carp. But the king had ordered it, and it was so. Until, one day, the gate was ordered open.
The military assembled, with captains and commanders fully suited with steel, and their underlings covered in iron. Each dwarf was assigned a wardog, ninety dwarves and dogs in all. The champion and militia commander wielded the prides of the fortress: Imeshgin, Spine Hewer, a steel long sword, decorated with table cut star rubies, giant tiger leather rings, and spikes of steel, and Beamsorrow, Bane Of Dragons, a steel short sword, decorated with oval cut star sapphires, giant lion leather rings, and spikes of gold. And then, there was Ashtat Quickbow, the daughter of a wood cutter and a dyer, forced into the military for her strength.
Ashtat thought this was a suicide mission, after looking out of an oddly placed window at the approaching goblins. But others told her not to worry, as one dwarf will always snap, and begin to clear a sizeable path through the goblins. Ashtat prayed to Armok, the only deity she respected, that something would happen to kill off the goblins before she had to fight.
Then, the slam of the gates woke her from her prayer. The dwarves shook, seeing the mass of terrifying creatures waiting for them. The wardogs looked eager to fight, not aware of the pitiful death that awaited them in the midst of the horde. Ashtat gripped her *iron short sword*, keeping her -highwood shield- close to her chest. For some reason, she didn't feel it necessary to pick up any greaves, preferring her +cave spider silk trousers+. The Champion, Kadol Blackiron, screamed "For Mountainhome," before charging down the mountain, his wardog just ahead of him, eighty nine other dwarves and wardogs following.
On the way down, a mountain goat scared away one dwarf, who ran off the side of a cliff, and down the entire length of the mountain before exploding on impact. On ground level, a badger made another dwarf run face first into a tree, passing out. Two more dwarves sat on the ground, horrified at finding the skeleton of a miner. But the rest charged, prepared to face their fates.
The first line of goblins were armed in copper, easily being cut aside with no dwarven casualties. Spears and whips bounced off -iron breastplates- and *highwood shields*, with only a few bruises on the dwarves. The goblin bowmen were oddly not firing at the charging dwarves, deciding it was better to shoot at the nearby giant lion pride. Once the dwarves hit the second row of goblins, now in a mixture of iron and copper, the trap was sprung: goblins riding on elk birds appeared out of nowhere behind the dwarven ranks. Ashtat turned to face one.
A copper short sword was deflected off her -highwood shield-, but a beak came flying for her arm, chipping the bone. Ashtat fell over, overcome by pain, assuming she was about to die. Several copper spears continually stabbed at, and were deflected by, her *iron helm*.
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After a month of laying there, unconscious and in pain, Ashtat woke up to find three goblins still stabbing at her. Something woke up within her, some form of enhanced strength, when she saw the three goblins. She could move faster than them, and dodged their blows effortlessly. She quickly slashed at the first goblin's right upper arm, cutting through it's copper mail shirt, the severed part sailing off in an arc. She then wildly stabbed the first goblin's throat, the organ exploding in gore. The first goblin had been struck down. She bashed the third goblin in the chest with her -highwood shield-, bruising the fat through the copper breastplate, followed by a strong slash to the second goblin's head, the severed part sailing off in an arc. One fast stab to the third goblin's head, cutting through the troll fur cloak, the severed part sailing off in an arc, and Ashtat was, for the moment, safe.
She observed the area around her: well over two hundred goblins had been struck down, but nearly all the dwarves were dead as well. A thick miasma covered the field, the dense grass stained with many layers of blood. Beside her lay her deceased wardog, having died defending her, along with several severed arms and legs. No bodies, oddly. When she heard the sound of metal on metal, she walked towards the commotion. She saw the champion, Kadol Blackiron, and the militia commander and captains, surrounded by goblins, both mounted and on foot, somehow having survived the month, two of them passed out from over exertion. Kadol cut through an oak bow, then struck down a pair of goblins in quick succession. Suddenly, a captain wielding a hammer bled to death, an arrow in his right upper leg.
As Ashtat watched, they slowly fell, having cut down goblins many times their number. Ashtat was horrified, but somehow rooted in place, as if the entire mountain was upon her back. The goblin general approached her, wanting the last kill for himself. Ashtot made no move to attack or defend, seeing no path to victory. The troll he rode upon picked her up in his massive hand, it's tusks covered in gore. As it raised her up to be face to face with the general, a greasy, scar covered hand wrested over her mouth, another on her throat, the oxygen blocked from her body. "Armok save me," she screamed in her head, too weak to say it with her mouth. She found enough strength to bite the hand in front of her mouth. Sweet blood filled her mouth, and her own blood surged like cold fire.
She no longer felt the hunger in her belly, or her exhaustion and pain. Her empty lungs didn't bother her now, and she felt as if a dam had opened in her mind. She must've been on the verge of death, because she saw her skin turn pale. But she would fight, as long as she had breath. For Mountainhome, for her fallen comrades, for Armok, she would fight.
Ashtat wildly kicked the troll in the upper body, breaking the right true ribs, the troll passing out from pain. She quickly jumped away, picking up an iron short sword from a mangled goblin corpse, sprinting into the goblin ranks. She lost track of how many goblins fell before her; their iron and copper felt like water against her blows. The strength of every fallen dwarf flowed into her, allowing her to crush a cave dragon's skull into it's brain with one kick after dodging it's bite. With one wild slash, she bifurcated the goblin lasher riding the dragon.
"Sp-Spine Hewer..." moaned a voice. Ashtat turned in shock: Kadol was alive, even with a spear embedded in his left lung. He lifted Imeshgin up with his right arm; his final order was for Ashtat to wield the blade.
Once Ashtat's hand settled over the handle, the light in Kadol's eyes faded, a devilish smile still on his face, likely greeting whatever deity accepted him. She drew Imesgin in her left hand, discarding her iron short sword, and retrieved Beamsorrow nearby. Assuming a stance that layered them them across her chest horizontally, blades parallel to each other, she belted out "For Mountainhome!" before charging into the goblins once more.
Few goblins could stand before her without fleeing, only to be cut down as they ran. She would not allow any goblin to challenge Mountainhome and survive. The general raised his ☼steel spear☼, Ashtat ran forward to meet his challenge.
The spear sailed, a boom resonating from it as it cut through the air. Ashtat quickly strapped Imeshgin to her upper body, barely dodging the spinning ☼steel spear☼. She grabbed it, turned to the general, and threw it straight for his troll's face. The ☼steel spear☼ sailed clean through the troll's head, the organ exploding in gore.
Before the troll fell, the general grabbed his silver maul with both hands, jumping off the falling corpse, straight at Ashtat. She was unfazed. Timing her strike, she slashed at the shaft of the maul, cutting the weapon in half, the head landing harmlessly behind her. As she drew Imeshgin again, the general drew a weapon off his back that sent a shock through Ashtat: Rivodtinoth, Demons Glare, a steel two hand sword. The sword had been wielded by the first ever monarch of the dwarves: how this goblin came to possess it was unknown.
Ashtat and the general exchanged a flurry of blows, sparks illuminating their faces as they crossed blades multiple times a second. At the same time, they both jumped back, landing with ten feet between each other. "Garabnost. Garabnost Quickfang, Vampire General of the Demonic Visages." Garabnost introduced himself, readying to charge Ashtat.
She replied "Ashtat Quickbow, Slayer of Garabnost Quickfang," before assuming an aggressive stance. With one step each, they met in the center of their divide, weapons streaking at each other.
Garabnost's lower and upper bodies split, cut apart just under the stomach, his head sailing off in an arc. He had struck Ashtat from the right shoulder cleanly down to the left upper leg. Somehow, she stayed alive long enough to see the goblins flee, and an army from multiple surrounding fortresses arrive. But it all ended when a pair of elven traders showed up, slitting her throat and eating her body.
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When she awoke, she found herself staring at the face of a tall man, but she couldn't make out anything about him. He smelt of blood. "He accepted you. Shocking," a sing-song voice said from nearby.
An elf, wearing the crown of a dwarven king, wielding a hammer, greeted her. Beside him were two dwarves, one covered in obviously master crafted clothing, and another suited in adamantine armour, a spear in his hands.
Ashtat crawled from the bed, staring around in complete confusion, muttering incomprehensible words under her breath.
"I accepted you, Ashtat Quickbow. Now begin your service; return to the physical world, and be reborn, just as my other servants have. Slay even more impudent non-believers this time. Your service to Armok has started."
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Ashtat took her first steps, holding a wooden training sword her mother gave her to play with. Little did this new mother know, her daughter was a servant to the God of Blood, her mother a mere Slave to Armok.