Hi everyone,
just got back from school and such and I'm posting the next segment of the story up.
This does not include Zestorum's character because I already wrote the chapter before I read his comment, but will add him next chapter.
Enjoy!
Red. Blood.
Glinting Steel. Blades.
Cold.
Death.
All Stoneridge could see and hear was the frenzy of his glaive (The pole arm, not the NiNJA weapon.) whistling back and forth, whipping up a glorious cloud of carnelian red. Around him, a fierce battle raged.
When the Goblins first began to charge towards the Dwarven encampment, Stoneridge gave the orders to advance. At first it seemed his idea was to meet the Goblins at the river. It was then that he revealed his clever ploy.
As the green-skinned Horde of over one hundred thousand came mobbing over the valley and down the other side, hundreds of the Goblin soldiers died instantly. the bolts ripped apart and skewered many goblin soldiers together. Their blood ran down the hill, staining it like a splash of an artist's ruby red paint.
The Dwarven soldiers cheered when they saw the carnage. The initial Goblin charge was destroyed. The surviving goblins milled about in confusion. Hearing a whistling noise, the survivors and a few of the dwarves looked up. A black sea of arrows flew through the sky, piercing the remaining Goblins like needles.
The blood ran freely.
Stoneridge had snuck a few Dwarven mechanists to the hill at the opposite end a few hours ago. They constructed a mechanism built into the hill itself to fire hundreds of bolts all down the hillside. The bolts would penetrate the thin backplate standard in Goblin armories. Only the very well equipped or lucky did not die.
The Dwarves cheered even more, but they soon quieted down in horrified disbelief; scores upon scores of goblins marched on, past their dead. In seconds the corpses on the ground were obscured by the metallic crunch of their plated boots on the gore ridden grass.
The Thane’s heart grew cold and he began to despair for a second, but knew he must act or his men's courage would desert them.
“
CHARRRRRRRRRRGE!!!!” Stoneridge shouted before roaring out a war cry.
Many other voices joined his and it rose until they smashed into the front of the advancing Horde. The initial impact jarred his bones. On instinct he swung his shield forwards in front of him and it answered with a resounding clang, drawing his dagger from its sheath Stoneridge thrust it forward under the shield. It met a slight resistance before the blade went in smoothly.
Abandoning the dagger, the Thane covered his head with his shield just in time to block the heavy blow of a mace. Stoneridge looked up and saw a bucktoothed goblin leering at him. He spat in the creature’s eyes and used the spare second to grab onto the glaive harnessed to his back and pull it out, swishing it in a straight arc downwards. A cry of pain punctuated the swish.
Stoneridge felt the blade of the glaive jam tight in the shoulder of the scowling goblin, which in its death throes jabbed a dagger clumsily into the Thane’s stomach. Ignoring the pain, the Thane grabbed hold of the goblin’s arm and bent it backwards with a sickly snap to stab the goblin in its own neck.
The blood gushed out of the unfortunate goblin’s mouth in pools of blood, painting the water and the Thane’s boots with slivers of blood. He smiled grimly at the sight. Hearing a slight whistling noise the dwarf ducked and barely evaded a bolt aimed for his head. Stoneridge cursed and picked up a scuffed wooden buckler floating in the bloody brook, as his own was dented beyond use.
The Thane roared fearfully. The wild-bearded, bloody faced warrior threw himself into the thick of the battle before crying out, “LET THE BASTARDS HAVE IT!”
In the middle of cleaving bone, a white flash blinded him.
Waves of mindshattering pain erupted all over his body, Stoneridge heard a hoarse scream of pain, it took him a few seconds to realise it was it was his own voice. A cacophony of Dwarven screams played through the air with a melody of cackling Goblin laughter.
Just when the unholy orchestra reached its cresendo and Stoneridge could not bear it anymore, there was silence.
Sweet, blissful silence.
Barely aware that he might be dying, Stoneridge just lay there. Defeated.
Curiously, right before he surrendered to the sweet dark, he thought of Masha and saw a mental image of her chowing down on a clump of grass.
*2 Hours Ago*
Yagzok hated the dwarves. When the Alpha-Brute commanded him to lead a regiment of some of the toughest Brutes in a special pack to cause immense havoc by assaulting the rear of the Stoneridge Legion, he jumped at the chance to kill the dwarves.
“Also, to keep the Dwarven siege weapons off our scales, I want you to take this key, Yagzok.” The Alpha-Brute said, handing a small tarnished iron key to him.
“Of course my lord!” saluted Yagzok as he reached out and grabbed the key from the Alpha-Brute.
“This key, by the way, leads to the Raptor Cages…” trailed off the hulking goblin.
A big smile split on Yagzok’s face; he was beaming from ear to ear now.
“Thank you, lord!” he said happily.
“Dismissed!” Barked the Alpha-Brute as he walked away, leaving Yagzok with a dreamy smile on his cracked lips. Clenching the keys tightly, he walked off towards the cages, whistling a discordant tune.
Behind him, the Goblin armies assembled for war.
Thank Darmuun for all this luck! This is the month that thousands of Dwarves die! thought Yagzok happily.
He was only partially right.
It wasn't that thousands of Dwarves would die,
No.
It would be
millions.
Ok... Chapter 2 done.
Just so you guys know, next Chapter will include some lore into the history and legends of the land.
Thanks for reading! Feedback appreciated!
~Cheers
[P]sYDoNiA
Author
Topic: The Annal of the Scalded Lands (Read 958 times)