I once gen'd a world that was basically just elves, with a minority of humans and goblins living amongst the elven civs. I'm guessing the elves overran the world pretty early on and the surviving races are just the left overs. I decided to attack what seemed like a human capital, though it was full of elves and it's buildings were falling apart. I had managed to steal some good armor and a spear off some random adventurer in the woods (unlucky him) and then began to gather as much clothing as I could. I had already slaughtered a town, so I had basically everything I needed. As night came I crept into the village and began to lay the clothing in a perimeter around the city, something that took a great deal of time and many many MANY socks. As I stepped into the village I ignited a near by tree, a fire which quickly spread to my clothing line and from there to other trees and buildings. It was just breaking dawn by now.
Amidst the burning chaos and charred bodies rose the guards and angered civilians, hell bent on bringing me down. The peasants were barely a diversion, their clumsy punches easily parried and countered. Most died instantly, heads and chests impaled, all others were horribly wounded, some fatally. The fire would take care of the unconscious ones. I clashed with the guards, but they too were barely a challenge, falling bloodily before me with their limbs snapped and their life blood gushing forth. Finally, their leader, a human druid in wooden armor but wielding a steel ax, approached me. We fought equally for several turns, blocking and parrying each blow. Finally, he struck the first blow, shattering my right arm and forcing my shield from my hand. His blow left him off balance though, for my next thrust struck him square in the face, glancing off his helmet but breaking his neck in the process. I struck again, embedding the spear in his chest, however before I could finish him off I was tackled by one of the last living guards.
I lost hold of my spear and found myself beneath an enraged guard brandishing a short sword. I managed to grasp his blade and wrestle it from him before repeatedly stabbing him in the gut. Still he continued to fight, managing to break my left hand before he bled to death. I found myself standing alone in the center of the burning city, both arms useless. It was then that an arrow struck me, piercing my shoulder. It was from an archer, one I considered as good as dead already; both his knees were broken and his stomach was little more then a gaping hole and yet he continued to fight. Enraged, I turned and charged him, as another arrow struck me, sticking in my already dead arms. As I closed the distance, more arrows came, one of which struck my stomach and embedded itself there. I leapt upon him and by some serendipity, managed to sink my teeth into his throat. However, even as I tore his throat out he fired again, piercing my heart this time.
The archer fell dead in moments, already pale with blood loss before my final bite. I lay in the burning ruins, my life draining from me. With my last strength I pulled myself next an old oak and set it ablaze. The fire consumed me even as I died.
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Topic: Your most epic moment of win! (Read 64137 times)