1st Limestone, 105, Early Autumn
The turn of the month saw the first real battle Steelbeard had ever seen.
No one knew particularly why the Goblins were almost leisurely walking up to the Fortress gates. Or why they had just decided to stop in their tracks in the middle of the brook. Or why their Giant Olm had just decided to take a dive in the nearest pool of stagnant water, dragging its rider with it. But everyone knew that Goblins were NOT Dwarves, and anything not a Dwarf was to be shot on sight. And so it began.
The Fortress Guards (aka. the Shoota Boyz) were sent to the fortifications that topped the roof of the small gatehouse. Even with a glaring shortage of crossbows and bolts, they still carried enough firepower to be a threat.
"You think this'll work?" One of the Guards, who went by the name of Crimson whispered.
"Why wouldn't it?" Erith replied in a low tone, loading her crossbow.
"Well... they're wearing armor, it looks like..." he offered.
She tapped a finger on the thick frame of her weapon. "Armor-piercing. This thing will knock the shield right out of their hands. And if you're really worried, just shoot them where they're not
wearing armor."
Crimson shrugged and joined her at the crenelations, aiming his weapon downrange. The Goblins were still doing Armok-knows-what in the brook, not moving at all. He couldn't ask for a better target.
Twang!! His bolt vanished from the crossbow.
The invader fell. Glancing to the side as he prepared another bolt, he could see Erith grinning. "What did I tell you? Armor-piercing."
Twang!!"Tch," she remarked. "Not as good, but it'll do..Don't let that one get away!"
The Goblins stubbornly held their ground, which was now rapidly becoming soaked with glistening red blood. They raised shields, which only served to prove Erith's earlier point.
Vimmm! A bolt whizzed through the air, impacting one Goblin's copper shield; the force was so intense he lost his grip. The pathetic metal plate flew three feet away to splash into the water.
Their ranks began to buckle. Several of them had already suffered major injuries; five of them were now feebly crawling away from the scene in an attempt to escape. Not wanting to lose an opportunity at Goblinite, Erith abruptly pulled her attention away from the fight, put two fingers to her lips and blew a sharp whistle.
"That's our cue," Splint said with a grin. They ran pell-mell across the bridge, through the thicket of cage traps, and around the east end of the keep where the Goblins couldn't see. Their plan was to strike south while the main force was being feathered with bolts and pick off the stragglers that might attempt to retreat. They
needed that armor, no matter how inferior it was to adamantine. It would prove to be a mistake, however.
One of the Hammerdwarves showed up late. Misjudging the signal, he went around the wrong end of the wall; the Goblins immediately screamed hatred and charged him, the Giant Olm (conspicuously without a rider) first. Wisely sticking near the entrance, however, he managed to defeat the Olm with only minor injuries, and also caused it to charge the wrong way, landing itself right into a cage trap. It would be a fine prize once this debacle was over with. But soon three Goblin mace-wielders were in his face, ready for blood and vengeance. He would give them plenty.
Meanwhile, seeing that the main body of Goblins had begun to move -- and quickly -- Splint cursed, wheeled his troops around the wall and charged. "
For Steeeellbeaarrd!!!"
It was an extremely bloody affair. Though the Goblins were mostly in retreat by now, they managed to inflict major injuries to a few Dwarves -- thanks to the glaring lack of edged weapons among the invaders, however, there was nothing immediately life-threatening. One female Hammerdwarf had had her left leg broken in multiple places, and now she laid unconscious on the ground with her arms firmly wrapped around her crying infant. That was the most serious of the injuries; though Splint suspected psychological trauma may go far deeper than that. He sighed, keeping one eye on the retreating Goblins and another on his men, who were sifting through the bodies for any signs of life. "Get the wounded to the hospital," he abruptly shouted. "forget the Goblins; they won't come back if they know what's good for them."