A bolt flew. A zip in the wind before a sickening soft slick and it lodged firmly in the goblin's chest. The gaunt green figure clutched his chest, scratching at his breastplate as his breath came ragged and he fell on the ground, ignored by the other dozen goblins who were limping or crawling away, and another dozen that lay dead just a few feet before. Well, dead or dying. Axelords moved through the field, almost leisurely. As bolt zipped and slashed through the air, axes fell on the wounded and snuffed out the fragile life of another greenskin.
Another squad moved forward, whips brushing the bloodsoaked grass as they dangled just inches above the soil, or else twirled overhead slowly before making infrequent cracks in the air. With a wave and a crack the whips rendered the air asunder, popping against armor and sending the axelords to the ground in pain. The best of dwarven might was an even match against the most immoral of goblin weapons. Spears arose. A hail of bolts and a flurry of shield and speartip. Lashes rent the air and spears sliced through iron and flesh.
Cries tore through the field. Screams in the blazing heat of the shrubland as troll feet and fists pounded the earth raw, crushing grass and sending measly war dogs flying. Bolts lodged, harmless, impaling the heavy troll frames with flimsy splinters of metal under the leathery hide. Whips cracked, not against dwarven steel but against raw flesh, driving the trolls onwards in a rage. Thick, meaty fingers grabbed arms and whole torsos, crunching armor and swatting blades aside with all the unbridled rage and uncaring of personal injury that an enslaved troll could maintain.
"Xuspgas... not want fight." The voice was gravely and broken, rendered garbled by a mouthful of tusks and a neck built more like a stone wall than a body part.
"Oh bloody..." The dwarf shuddered as his axe came down into a goblin's head, "Ah keep fergtin' yer type ken talk."
"Xuspgas not care." The troll muttered as he trudged forward on bruised feet and broken knuckles, "Xuspgas not want dwarf. Xuspgas not want fight, Xuspgas only want cloth!"
The dwarf moved around the troll quickly, bringing the axe down into another goblin as the greenskin clawed at the bolt lodged in its stomach, "Tailor eh? Troll tailor, was'e world comin to now? Aint never heard o trolls and clothes anyways."
The troll growled out, slamming his hand into the corpse of the goblin and forcing the lodged bolt into his own wrist, ignoring the flimsy ammo as he threw the corpse halfway across the field, "Xuspgas make good cloth! Xupsgas use own hair, make glove! Good glove! Xuspgas only want make cloth!"
The dwarf sighed, reaching up to pull his helmet down before raising his axe and facing the troll, "Yeh, and ah came here with a decade o experience and a 'ole family of making tha best damn cheese ye ever put lips on. What I get? An axe and a helmet and a new career. Now quite yer blubberin and come on then!"
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Topic: Xuspgas troll clothier (Read 3512 times)