Silvereye stood ready at his post. He held his crossbow comfortably, refusing the finely-crafted steel that Skjald was now turning out in favor of the tower-cap crossbow that he had been using since he first joined. He was used to it, knew its feel, and liked the feeling of the bloodstained stock against his shoulder.
He felt quite different from the last time he had seen combat from behind the fortifications of Lanternwebs. Where before, he had been a new recruit, struggling with his bolts in the heat of battle, he was now a veteran, used to the sights, sounds, and emotions of battle. To his right stood Umir, an echo of himself two years past, fumbling a steel bolt into the firing groove of his crossbow. He smiled to himself, thinking of the difference that two years could make.
No mist lay in the valley this time, and he could clearly see the squad of hammergoblins approaching. Smaller and more frail than the orcs, a crossbow bolt would reliably take them down. He checked his quiver, happy to see a full twenty-five bolts ready to find their place in the guts of the oncoming goblins. At his feet lay a bin with two hundred more. Whatever happened this battle, he would not run short of ammunition.
"Hold your fire until they get close." He said, turning to Umir. "Wait until they are on the bridge. You'll have a perfect shot then."
Umir nodded, sighting along the crossbow and waiting. Silvereye turned back to the goblins, who were cautiously advancing up the road, testing the steel blocks for traps with their hammers. As if we would need them, he thought. Traps would just mean fewer of them for us to kill.
Satisfied that there were no hidden blades embedded in the road, the guard leading the goblins stepped up the ramp to the bridge, standing just short of the dolomite slab as he raised his sword and pointed it menacingly at the open gate.
"Stand and fight, you cowards!" he bellowed. "Drag yourselves from the filthy hole you call your home and face us on the field of battle. Or are you too scared?"
Aiming carefully, Silvereye squeezed the firing lever and a steel bolt seemed to appear in the guard's throat, blood leaking through the torn iron of his neckguard.
"On the day you are brave enough to set foot across our bridge, I'll fight you on your terms." Silvereye responded, slotting another bolt into his crossbow as he heard Umir fire next to him. Bringing his crossbow up again, he fired into the crowd of hammergoblins, hearing a sharp cry of pain as it struck a goblin in the chest.
The motion is the same as at the archery range, he thought. Draw the bolt, squeeze to the shoulder to bring the string back, sight on the target, and exhale as the bolt leaves, flying true to punch through armor, skin, muscle, and bone. The goblins were advancing now, stepping onto the bridge, but the motion came easily to him, long hours of practice letting his arms move naturally though the different positions, his sights bracketing a different goblin each shot as they stood on the bridge, unable to avoid the rain of dwarven-forged steel. Without thinking he reached into the bin, drawing a new bundle of bolts to fill his quiver as the goblins broke and fled across towards the east.
"Who are the cowards now?" Silvereye shouted contemptuously as he loaded a new bolt and fired into the back of a running goblin, watching him pitch face-first to the ground and flop pitifully for a few seconds before lying still. In the mountains, he heard the goblin horn sound again, signaling retreat. He smiled, satisfied with the battle and the demonstration he had provided to Umir. But when he turned to congratulate the marksdwarf on his skill, he saw only the back of his armor, walking down the hall towards the drink stockpiles.
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Pictures and movie up later. 36 goblins killed out of 48 engaged (the fourth squad retreated), not a bad ratio at all.
Movie available
here. Pictures of the aftermath:
And Silvereye's kills during the second skirmish:
Author
Topic: Lanternwebs (The End!) (Read 80573 times)