The captive goblins sat in their cage worrying, screaming at the stupid farmer to stop removing that wall, for behind that wall lay the dreaded Spirits of Fire, doombringers to all who live. What they did not know, however, was that the farmer intended to open this wall and let the Spirits loose, so that they may attempt to attack and ultimately be stopped by a wall of dwarven champions. The poor farmer also knew that he would not see the final and glorious victory that his champions would take, as these demons would engulf him fully and entirely. He just wished the damn goblins would shut up.
As the last brick came down, smoke belched from the newly formed hole in the wall, and the farmer quickly opened the cage, knowing that even goblins deserve a fair fight. It wasn't even one second after opening the door that a wave of fire passed over him, burning him to cinders.
The goblins, knowing there was no chance to escape, let out their best goblin battle cry and charged the spirits head on. They fought their best, but their iron weapons were no match for the incorporeal fire that soon engulfed them, filling the room with smoke and making the battle indecipherable. When everything cleared, there was a pile of goblin bones, charred flesh, molten iron, and 5 very pissed-off fire spirits standing at the door.
The door was no match for the blazing entities, and melted down to its core components as they stepped near. Before them was a hallway longer than the eye could see. The spirits were unaware that above the visible hallways were one thousand boulders set to fall on any trespasser. It was no matter for the sprits, though, as they floated over the pressure plates, leaving a trail of molten granite in their wake. Occassionally, a stone would fall, but the spirits' raging inferno liquified the stone before it was within 5 feet of them. The spirits eventually tired of this maze and instead started plowing through the walls until, at last, the pathway opened up into a wide room.
As the spirits entered, a labyrinth of chest-high walls emerged from the floor, a voice off in the distance issued an order to fire, and a hailstorm of bolts and boulders rained upon the spirits, impaling 2 of them with pure adamantine. The sacred metal quenched the flame within, and with an infernal scream, the spirits were no more. A second volley of bolts rained down, but the demons were prepared this time, moving more quickly than the eye could follow. Before the third volley could begin, the spirits had discovered the location of their attackers, and began boring holes through the fortifications. The siege operators ran for their lives, but the champions stood steady, about to begin their last stand.
Nil, commander of the Deathbringers, held his adamantine battle axe high and issed the order to charge. The spirits englufed the Deathbringers in a river of flame, but the soldiers' charge did not cease. They quickly felled one spirit injured by the adamantine missiles. As another volley of bolts rained overhead, the squad engaged the infernal spawn, but to their dismay, the spirits were outstanding combatants and vicious fighters. The Deathbringers fell one by one until Nil was the only one left standing. His adamantine plate had begun to crack under the constant heating and cooling involved with fighting the enemy, and ceased to be any protection whatsoever. With a scream, he shattered the remaining armor from his backside and charged the demons, protected now only by his kilt and beard.
Nil leapt high into the air and brought his adamantine blade down upon a demon's head, as the sacred weapon cleft the beast in two, its flame sputtered and hissed out of life. He charged the remaining spirits, but his skin was not the amazing flame deterrent he had hoped for, and as he sustained massive injuries, he choked on his own smoke underground. He looked up at the towering blaze and knew that he would not be saved.
As the spirits snuffed the life out of Nil, they turned their focus to the marksdwarves, who launched their last volley of adamantine bolts. The spirits dodged the projectiles with ease, and flew towards the squad. Zan Cerolnom, commander of the Demonhunters, knew that this was now a hopeless battle. He gave the order to charge, and issued an order to a lone recruit in the back. The recruit acknowledged and began running towards the door. The Demonhunters met the spirits with force, but their expertise in ranged combat gave them little aid in this battle. The soldiers fell quickly. Zan was thrown against a wall by a wave of flame. Dazed, he looked for his weapon, but felt a sharp pain in his leg. He tried to move it, but the limb was pointing the wrong way. As he looked up and saw the demons slaughtering his men, he heard a faint clicking, followed by a much louder sound of metal rattling. He knew his order had gone through. He smiled weakly and looked at the ceiling, which began to crack and crumble. It soon gave way, and Zan was at peace.
The dwarves of Sparkgear knew that their plan would not hold the demons for long, and so their fate was decided.
(Note to self: Get more pronouns)
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Topic: SparkGear 2 - Balls of Steel (*deader than a ... something really dead*) (Read 93340 times)