Yeah, I'd like that. Get on it, Peregarrett! BTW, I don't do journals. I've never known how to do them, and Grombardrim doesn't strike me as the journal-keeping type in any case. She's much more of an in-the-moment person. That being said, have a novel ^_^
Azringoth ran her hands over her smooth scalp, grinning as she heard the alarm bells tolling once more. Murdermachines never truly slept anymore, the threat of incursion was too great. Even the traps Peregarrett had set up did nothing to help them, rather, they hurt more Dwarves than they did Voidspawn. Eagerly, she picked up her trusty battle-axe, dropping him into the sling on her belt. It ill-behooved the Mountainous Speaker of Prestige to go into battle unarmed, after all. It ill-behooved anyone to go into battle - or anywhere in Murdermachines, for that matter - unarmed.
"Saber," she greeted the older veteran as they joined up together. The Swordswoman had recently had a child, but her battle-readiness was not impaired, it would seem. Good to know. "Looks like we get to fight now." With that, she grinned fiercely, running one finger along the blade of her axe, daubing strange lines and patterns onto her face with the freshly-spilt blood. "About fuckin' time!"
As the two warrior-women met up with the rest of their squad in the headlong rush towards the entrance, Azringoth lifted her axe out of the frog-loop, moving out to one side where she would have full room to swing the weapon around. They rounded the bend, a full squad of metal-clad, armed, furious Dwarven warriors, and they met a squad of Goblins suddenly glancing up, their eyes widening in surprise and fear. She grinned. This was what she lived for. "I WILL DESTROY YOU!"
Strike. Counter-strike. Parry. Shield-bash. Slash. Headbutt. As the familiar red haze fell over her eyes like a curtain of Goblin blood (and what a pleasant image that was), everything else fell away, and there was only her, the axe, and the swathe of destruction of the dead Goblins she left behind. Suddenly, the veil lifted, everything was clear again. "Huh. Well, that's boring," she commented, examining the dead Goblins with disappointment, before turning to face the others, raising an eyebrow at their horror-struck faces. "What? You bunch of pussies haven't seen a martial trance before?" Shaking her head, Saber gestured down towards Azringoth's midriff. Glancing down quizzically, she saw a Goblin spear lodged between two armor plates, her own blood flowing out like a crimson brook.
"Well. Fuck."
Everything was black. Or maybe it was white? Possibly even red. She couldn't tell. She didn't care. It hurt. It felt good. It was burning hot, and freezing cold. Sometimes she felt cool water trickling down her throat, or a soothing cloth on her forehead. Sometimes she heard voices talking to her, telling her to get better, telling her to get back on her feet. She didn't care. She didn't have the energy to care. Or the vital organs, for that matter. She remembered being rushed back by her squad, tossed on a bed, examined by what passed for a Medical Dwarf in the hellhole that was Murdermachines. She remembered him telling her she didn't have much of a chance. Her armor had bent inwards, the spear poking a hole into her stomach and the armor holding it open to flood her insides with acid. She had laughed at the irony of being digested by herself, but that had soon become a gurgle of pain, and then nothing.
The colors started to take shape in front of her. The black was still there, still everywhere. The white took on the shape of three long streamers. Braids? Yes, braids and a braided white beard. The red took on a lighter hue and a rounded shape. A face? A Dwarf? Yes, a Dwarf. A Dwarf's face. Nothing else. "I'm dead, aren't I? I'm dead and imagining this. Dwarves can't live without a body, and you're just a head. Hah. And I'm talking to my own imagination."
"Oh, I'm not your imagination. And you won't be dead for long. My name is Grombardrim, it's a pleasure to meet you." The strange Dwarf blurred and came towards her. Azringoth blinked.
"It's nice to meet you too, I suppose."
"My name's-" "Grombardrim."
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Topic: Murdermachines - Return of the VoidGod (Deathgate II) (Read 829386 times)