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| [P] Tribe and Dagger; Private; PM for Invite | |
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| Topic Started: Fri Apr 8, 2011 12:13 am (258 Views) | |
| Balder Brightwolf | Sat Apr 16, 2011 10:44 pm Post #16 |
 
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Nothing could have made the Orc happier then hearing that bit. He was starting to like this human, his favored battle plan being just the same as his, and now he was going down to spring a trap and battle against an army of goblins that came in to bear down on him. He felt like it was his birthday a bit early, and it was time to bring in the presents. He moved down the hill, holding the horn in his hand that was covered by his hefty shield. The steel gleaned amd sparkled in the dusk light, and he could hear the shuffling of goblins over the next hill. He took a deep breath, pulling the horn up and letting out a sharp call from it. The hills echoed with the sound of it, and he could hear a repeat of them in the distance. A simple tactic that required certain call-backs, and the Orc delivered. He blew into the horn again, this time in a lower voice. He could hear the shrill cries of goblins as they rushed over the hills expecting a great battle next to their already-dead allies. Tossing the horn to the dirt, the Orc drew the axe from his waist and waited, his feet set firmly in the dirt. He knew that not an hour from now, where he was sitting was going to become a killing field for whatever was still there. He wasn't sure if he wanted to stay there and take the test of the earth, or if he'd like to watch as the goblins screamed and fell to the glorious works ahead of them. And all he could do was smile as the first of the goblin crested the hill and saw who had blown the horn that called them here. He stepped hard onto it, and growled deep as they saw him. As more and more came over the hill and rushed at him, the Orc tightened his muscles and pushed forward. The first of them was blasted back by a shock-wave as the steel plated shield pounded into it's head, the force of it's magical enchantment snapping the goblin's neck with great force left over. And he pressed on, swinging his axe hard and taking the head off of the next. He kept moving with the flow of his axe, sweeping low and ripping the legs out from under the next little monster. He was in his own zone now, not even able to register the sounds of more goblins coming in until they were close enough to be hacked and sent to the earth by Hel-breaker. A roar of rage passed his lips as he swept his axe hard, breaking the haft of a spear and tearing the arm carrying it all in one go. Pressing forward, he brought his shield up to block an incoming blow. His body was covered in small nicks and cuts that were being produced more and more as the fight went on, but he couldn't feel them at all. And he felt it was time to move. As almost a score lay dead around him, he hefted his form back, slipping just out of the rage of the trap by his estimate, staring down the goblins so the force of them were staring him down, waiting to come in on him like baying hounds. He growled and stared into the eyes of the captain amongst the living goblins, waiting for the trap to spring, or for the goblins to come in on him and try and bring him down. And he was quite sure with the numbers of them, and his condition slowly withering, he would fall to them. But most of their tribe would die, and he would be glad knowing they would be destroyed soon after. That is all he'd ever want in a fitting end. |
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| Auron DeBrouchet | Wed May 4, 2011 10:37 pm Post #17 |
 
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The trap wasn’t functioning quite as expected. Auron’s ideas for the rockfall was simple, but its simplicity would prove its downfall. There was too much weight. The man struggled to shift the trees holding back the stone pile, but it was lodged in the hardened clay-like dirt. Seizing his dagger, he looked up and down the log, estimating the most effective area to dig out, and set to work on the left side, between middle and edge. Digging into the earth, he could feel the difference as the only blade he had on him dulled, each pull through the soil becoming more and more strained. Cursing, he knew he wouldn’t be as effective as he could with a sharper blade in combat, but the trap was likely their best chance at taking out the main force. Glancing over his shoulder, he noted the orc in full combat below. Grimacing, he could only hope as he dug away that this trap would spring in time. Else the other would be slain below while he played in the dirt. Shaking his head, Auron stood up, throwing his dagger to the earth and kicking at the log in frustration. It creaked. Slowly the weight began pushing forward, log rolling out of the trench it had put itself into. Rocks began rolling down, over the dagger he’d thrown. He watched as the metal became warped, wooden handle cracking as the stream poured over it, unable to save it in his escape from the sheer force of the wave of stone. The rocks tumbled downhill, dislodging those he had prepared earlier to fall, adding volume to the avalanche. The goblins never stood a chance. The first boulder hit a broken tree, bouncing off at an angle, and landing atop one of the greenish creatures with a sickly crunch, wet seeping from beneath it. He never stayed to watch the devastation of the rockfall, dashing down the loosened earth, across the mountain face to circle to the back of the camp. Small deposits of goblins, about three or four per pocket, were scattered over the camp, concentrated at the rough center of the site. Assuming it to be the leader’s tent they were guarding, he moved in. The ground became hard unexpectedly where the avalanche ended, tripping him up and sending him into a slide on his front, rolling to a stop in a dust cloud. Coughing, he looked up to see a trio of goblins rushing to investigate, clubs at the ready. Rolling on his back, he brought his knees to his chest and lashed out with both heels, one foot catching a goblin dead in the face. Its pug nose crunched under the blow, driving bone back into its brain. It fell to the ground, out for the count. Dodging a club, he scrambled to his feet, slugging a goblin in the ear. Grabbing its club, he flung it away and wrapped his fingers in its bone necklace, drawing it tight against its throat. In the excitement, he forgot about the third. The club struck him in the back of the head, sending him face into the dirt. The fall pulled the necklace to the side, snapping the beast’s neck swiftly. Auron hit the dirt hard, rolling onto his back. Groaning, he watched as the goblin’s cudgel blotted out the sun, and kicked for the creature’s knee. The leg buckled, startling it into releasing its weapon as it reached down to catch itself, opening its jaws to bite into Auron’s neck. He lifted his hands to stop the inevitable, and braced himself, planting his left hand on the earth beside him. A rocky hiss sounded in the air, no natural sound, and he became aware of a wet liquid running down his arm and a weight bearing down. The goblin’s jaws slowed as they approached, snapping weakly. Looking over the creature for whoever had helped him, he saw only a blade composed of stone erupting from the goblin’s back, shining black and red, slick with blood. |
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| Balder Brightwolf | Sun May 8, 2011 10:07 pm Post #18 |
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The Orc was in heaven on the fields, the army of the goblins coming in on him like a wave, trying to crush him beneath the weight of their numbers. His large frame did most of his work for him, the first of the goblins being crushed under the weight of his boot. The next came in and it's head whirrled around as the force of his shield slammed into it's jaw, the enchantment sealed within enhacing the power of the blow. His axe took down the third, it's knees flying far from it's body under the weight of the blow. He kept swinging, his legs and arms pumping like machines to bring down goblin after goblin. Small wounds began showing all over his arms and abdomen, the beasts coming in on him around two to three at a time. Simple goblin tactics were easy enough for a skilled enough orc to overcome, his own weight doing the work for him as they were thrown to the ground, some of them in pieces. He could hear the sound of the trap from on top of the hill, and turned around in a feigned show of retreat. The beasts whooped and called victory, chasing after the orc with reckless abandon. As he reached out of the limits of the trap, he held up his shield and waited, watching as many of their faces were stricken with surprise or terror as rocks rolled down, taking down numerous amount of goblins per stone. The Orc threw himself back into the dirt, covering his head as the rocks began to fly wildly, waiting for the slide to finally be done with itself. He pulled himself to his feet after the massive rockfall, looking over the corpses and stones that were set against trees and near the fallen trunks. He raised slowly, ensuring that there were no more stray stones falling down to clip him and send him to his ancestors. With an assured nod after a few moments, he stood tall, moving over the bodies and stones towards the main encampment of the goblins. There had to be a few more there, and he enjoyed the idea of planting an axe in one of their heads. As he entered the camp, he raised a brow at how empty it truly looked. With a sigh of disappointment, the half-breed began to search through the tents, looking for odds and ends and maybe a few extra goblins that may have been hiding away in tents. In the places he could find the small pocket of resistance, the only noise that could be heard was a guturral battle cry and the hoots of goblins as they twirled dead into the dirt. Balder smiled through every battle, having finally found himself a job that could bring more joy then the last ten combined. Every goblin that came in on him brought flashes, views of the life he had lived with his home tribe, of fighting next to cousin and brother, and of serving his father and the spirits of the earth with each swing of his axe. |
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1:48 PM May 19
