Holy crap. 25 pictures and I've already done substantial editing. Never again. This was a "bad" period when it came to the pictures, but I think the writing turned out well.
AssaultBarbarossa gave the order
“Run!”The men rushed out, the marksdwarves loosing there payload into the unsuspecting goblins, dropping three. As the dwarves began to reload, the swordsdwarves ran, moving to the cover of the imposing wooden building, out of range of the marksgoblins, who were content with firing on the marksdwarves hidden in the trees.
One dwarf was down with a bolt in the shoulder and groaning in pain, but managed to make it into cover. Barbarossa gave the signal and the marksdwarves charged across the gap, making it to safety without being harmed, taking out a goblin in the process. Leaning around the corner, Barbarossa took out the guarding goblin and proceeded to run up to the door, crossbow at the ready. He counted to three in his head whilst the goblins above screamed blue murder. After the count of three he kicked open the door, ducked and loosed a bolt, tearing a gaping hole in the goblin waiting behind the door.
I’m aware of the problem with this picture and apologise. I never really was an artist.“First squad!” He roared, and Bardbeard leapt into the doorway, rolling forward and moving left, whilst the man behind him did the same, with the exception of moving right. This unbalanced the goblins guarding the passes on either side of the door, and allowed the dwarves to stab into their unprotected midriffs.
First squad moved down the left passage as Barbarossa followed second. Vilien took the lead, charging down the corridor and taking the head off of an uncertain looking goblin
Things only come into view when the dwarves see them. That’s how it works.
“Take that, ye slimy green bastard!” he exclaimed in delight, stabbing the corpse in the groin as a final insult and moving on with the speed of a leopard, up the stairs, into an empty room. He ordered his men to the right. First squad, meanwhile, had encountered the dining room, with steps leading down. Each squad had three marksdwarves attached and Bardbeard order one to fire down the stairway. He was rewarded with a strangled cry of pain and another goblin charging up the stairs. Bardbeard smashed him in the side of the head with the hilt of his sword and tied him up quickly, searched the area below the dining room, which turned out to be a storage room, full of meat and booze. Finding no one he turned and ran back up, ordering his squad forward to follow second.
Back in the forest the soapmaker, Quote as he liked to call himself because he was forever repeating things said to him, was antagonising about letting his fellow dwarves head into danger. He made a decision. He dropped his sword and pulled a circular shaft of wood out of his pocket. With a press of a button, the shaft extended to 5 feet, a weapon of is own design. Grinned and fixed a spearhead onto the pole and ran out, screaming for blood.
In second squad was Olon, a new addition, recently shipped in from 7th. At the sight of blood his adrenalin began pumping
enormously. Pushing past Vilien, who cried out “get back here you crazy bastard!” he ran forward. He charged ahead, round a corner, sword held so tightly it hurt, ready for anything, saw the goblin, couldn’t stop
ohshitohshitohshi-
Hi! Me again. Sorry for the shift into blue instead of dots, but I figured it was the most recognizable. It may change, may not, depending on how I feel it portrays the scene
Vilien rounded the corner and saw Olon dead on the floor, a grinning goblin standing over him holding a large bloody axe. Vilien knocked him over in a fit of rage and stabbed downwards with his sword
“Take this, you disgusting son of
bitch” the point caught the goblin in the forehead, piercing it through. He took out his sword and screamed incomprehensively at the goblins in the room, which appeared to be a barracks. What the goblins could make out through his howls was enough to turn their blood to ice. Second squad thundered around the corner and fell upon the goblin, working themselves into a frenzy at the sight of a dead comrade. The goblins didn’t stand a chance and soon the room was repainted a lovely shade, “hint of brain”
I thought to myself “What is the best way to portray sickening and unstoppable violence in ascii? A discretion shot! Will be used rarely, for you lovers of graphic violence
Barbarossa watched first squad come up the stairs and ordered them down the left passage, which lead to more stairs upwards, ending in a hatch. He held up his hand and conveyed to Bardbeard via hand signals that he wanted him to attack after he called. Barbarossa charged up the hatch, bursting through and immediately felt a sharp pain in his leg. He tumbled back down the hatch and hit the stone with a
thump. Looking down, he saw a bolt in his leg, nothing fatal, but it rendered his leg unusable.
He looked up at Bardbeard, who was grimly about to order his men up the hatch when a screaming blur rushed past. Quote burst through the opening with such speed he actually
flew four feet, straight into the crossbow wielding goblin, collapsing on top of him, screaming and stabbing into him with his spear. The other goblins stood stunned. Two had fired as Quote had come through the hatch due to shock and had no time to reload before Bardbeard and his men set upon them, slaughtering them mercilessly. They had to drag Quote off of his goblin.
Hey, another one! I have a confession, this was born of laziness more than anything else. It still won’t happen very often. In the aftermath, the dwarves sat around, congratulating each other and drinking the booze the goblins had stockpiled, which had been stolen from dwarven caravans. Afterwards, they moved to a safe distance, dragging the captured goblin with them. Barbarossa gave the signal and the miners dug down. After half an hour they emerged, moving to dig a channel around the area. Before digging out the last support, they drew straws to see who had the honour of being knocked out in the resulting cave-in. The loser moved up, swung his pick and…
Dwarves have yet to grasp the subtlety of collapsing aboveground buildings and its always funny to see a dwarf non-fatally injured in a cave-in. Also, taking along a mechanic and building a lever on-site is even more far-fetched and as such, just a bit to far-fetched to make it in.He woke up 5 minutes later, grumbling. Barbarossa had insisted on walking, whilst two dwarves carried the corpse Olon on a stretcher. The wounded marksdwarf found the wound to be superficial and decided to walk as well.
“Move out lads" ordered Barbarossa "and well done"
They left, dragging the prisoner behind them. Barbarossa reflected that Oldbeard had moved surprisingly fast and hadn’t grumbled at all and decided to place him on the front more often. He stumbled and cursed the goblin that had shot him. The wound wouldn’t heal for a while and he’d be a liability until it did. He sighed and went through a list of possible commanders in his head for the 11th royal swords. A few names sprang to mind.
I feel that future updates will not be so picture heavy because the more pictures, the harder it is to update. I noticed some flaws, not enough to make me fix them but enough to irritate. I apologise. The commentary down the bottom of pictures is going to be a staple from now on. I have a pictureless update planned very soon.
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Topic: To venture north, into Hell: Othtar Noloc, world at war (Read 106448 times)