And to celebrate...
The OutpostIt had been two weeks. They had the camp set up, had ample supplies and thanks to Thak, had storage areas and bedrooms. They had been told to wait for about a month until the miners showed up and until them there was nothing to do but kill time. Workerdrone and his company were going crazy. Well, crazier. They had been assigned to this group under the assumption that the goblins would not take the destruction of their troops and weapons (which the dwarves had rolled into the river) sitting down. But no attack had been forthcoming. They had food, provided by hunting parties led by Forrest, water and any true dwarf could distil booze from the various vegetation found around the area, with turnip vodka becoming increasingly popular, but they had nothing to do save cut down trees and trees were not flesh and blood creatures. Workerdrone was taking a break for some rest and booze, trying to imagine his axe biting into a goblin’s chest. He sighed happily.
Humaan was sparring with Vilien, still absolutely ecstatic over his two kills. He had finally proven himself! Now if only the bloody goblins would respond, so he could kill some more! The place had become boring. They had everything set up to the needs of the military, which wasn’t much. The military got by without much because they often had to. At the very least, sparring was always interesting. Walter made sure of that, as few dwarves had bested the behemoth, who knew how to use his size to his advantage. Tamunshin had though. The dwarf still inspired talk throughout the camp, with his prowess with a blade, not to mention the fact that no one had seen his eyes yet. The current rumour was that they were blood red.
(Walter is out hunting)Resting under a tree was Barbarossa, conversing with Kogan.
“Truebasements” began Barbarossa “now that’s a name that carries weight”
“Aye” said Kogan “and it’s my intention to see it restored to its full majesty”
“I’ve not heard the stories” said Barbarossa “well, when I say I’ve not heard the stories, I’ve only heard rumour. You’re the last of line and you'd know best. What happened?”
Kogan sighed and began.
It had been centuries ago, when the Truebasments line had been once again at lacklustre strength. Kogan’s ancestor, Kol Truebasments, had taken charge of a secluded fortress in a mineral rich area. It had escaped attention from nobility simply because it was regarded as a high risk post and this was a time of equality, when dwarves with the money to start an expedition owned the land and had no need to share with the rest of the world. But the goblins had no such qualms. They had come, bringing trolls and beakdogs, bringing swords and crossbows, bringing death. This fortress was renowned as an obscenely rich one, with gold veins found throughout the mountain, with plenty more waiting to be discovered. As Kol looked out at the large force of goblins, he knew that his lacklustre military could not hope to withstand the onslaught.
(I you guess who won, you win a slap for actually having to guess in the first place)He sealed his gold, the Truebasments fortune, beneath the earth, behind two enormous steel doors, that would open only for the blood of a Truebasment. He gripped his golden axe and charged into the fray. It was only after the goblins had burned the bodies that they learned of the blood needed to open the doors to the treasure. A manhunt began within goblin society that lasted for centuries. Find a Truebasment… and gain riches beyond imagination.
And so it came to be that Kogan stood outside the halls of his ancestors, in front of the fortress that he had searched for so long. The bones of the battle fought so long ago littered the grounds as he made his way into the fortress.
(Can plants beat stone after centuries of struggle? Jamie and Adam will blow things up unnecessarily to find out)After traversing the husk of what was once a grand fortress he came to the steel doors of legend… already open… and the vault was empty save one gold coin. Kogan quickly made a cursory check of the area and discovered something from his nightmares. His sister… her throat cut and bled dry. His
sister. Those bastards! Those goblins had killed his sister and taken his fortune! He picked up the coin and squeezed it. They would pay. They would all
pay.
(Insult to injury! Oh goblins, you so wacky)“And that could be what funded their war efforts” finished Kogan “it has haunted me for years”
“No, Kogan” said Barbarossa, shocked “the goblins do not fight for money. It did not fund this war. It was not your fault.”
Kogan nodded, still unhappy. He looked up, at the bustling activity in the camp.
“Yes… But I swore then that those goblins will burn for what they did. And yet out King has us out here, digging through the mountain. A foolish man”
Barbarossa paid him no heed. The dwarf was obviously upset.
The Goblins main campGaust was beyond worried now. There had to be over three thousand goblins here and this was only one part of the camp. They had been turning up over the course of the week and he had even seen a few trolls! This had to be a preparation for a massive attack, he needed to get the word out as soon as possible but he was stuck in this crowd, waiting for an announcement. The announcer burst out through the doors and stood over the hoard of goblins.
“The time has come!” he roared, causing a massive stir in the crowd “in a months time, we shall be drinking the blood of the dwarves on a mound of corpses! They shall fall and their world shall burn!”
The goblins screamed their agreement. Gaust was, for once, too shocked to do anything. They were going to attack. They were going to
attack. Why? Surely they did not have the numbers, unless he had been sorely mistaken in his efforts. Evidently he had been. He looked about him and all he saw was a sea of goblins. This was
horrible. They weren’t prepared for this, how could they be? The announcer was calling for quiet.
“You may be wondering just how we plan to pull this off! Well, I present to you, our masters!”
No… Demon after demon after demon was pouring through the door. Spirits of pure fire were flying above the crowd whilst white things with many, many limbs were clambering out, to stand in front of the sea of goblins, who were all terrified and excited beyond belief at the same time. He had to get out, to get word out, warn them! He had to warn the king!
“So rest well, you scum, because tomorrow!” the announcer paused for dramatic effect “we march on the
world!”
The goblins roared agreement and began to disband, as the demons moved around seemingly aimlessly. Gaust ran to his hut and began writing feverishly. After fifteen minutes, he had finished. He tied the message to the leg of his pigeon, a bird he had trained from birth who he trusted completely and sent it on its way.
“Gods speed” he whispered “Gods speed”
No pictures for the Gaust segment because I figure imagination would better serve you
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Topic: To venture north, into Hell: Othtar Noloc, world at war (Read 106391 times)