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Author Topic: The Founding of a Home  (Read 10645 times)

Brewster

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Re: The Founding of a Home
« Reply #30 on: November 12, 2012, 09:32:09 am »

Ah, snap, a body is missing from the battlefield!
I enjoyed this chapter. Your words crafted great visuals in my mind. This is pro work!

Of course next Dwdal and Lorath need to haul ass to the meeting spot and save the day, flanking the ogres and goblins, making porcupines out of them. Does Lorath know any magic like with the trees? She could come in handy dispatching the ogres/goblins. The dwarf group is going to need something, cause they're worn out, hungry, few in numbers, and lost most of their equipment. They are not going to win a straight-up fight with ogres! All is lost, hope is bleak!

If the goblins fail, the group needs to take prisoners! Two goblin generals would be nice.
If the goblins win, it was a good story. :-)

Edit: Only constructive criticism would be, when the read is introduced into a new setting (like the elf village) to describe it. "The homes crafted from the living trees as if by magic", "Dwdal flew past the birch and oak trees that make up the village", and crap like that. Like you did when walking towards the kings chamber.


If you don't mind I will take Gemchipper Blessed Gunner also, since no one else is joining.
If you just want me to stick with one character, not a problem.
« Last Edit: November 12, 2012, 10:17:30 am by Brewster »
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Stronghammer

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Re: The Founding of a Home
« Reply #31 on: November 12, 2012, 01:01:36 pm »

sure you can take another and for sure I will work on town description next time
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Stronghammer

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Re: The Founding of a Home
« Reply #32 on: November 13, 2012, 04:11:47 pm »

Surprise

Chapter 13


   The trees whipped by as the ponies galloped as fast as they could. Dwdal and Lorath drove the creatures as fast as they dared in the forest. The reason for their haste was earlier that day they were given a message that a monstrous army was heading for the group of dwarves. This news was most distressing to Dwdal yet the way in which it arrived was more distressing still to the poor dwarf. They had been riding hard when a bird had swooped down and landed on the cart next to Lorath. This in its self was odd, though Dwdal would have dismissed it simply as elven sorcery. What came next was the most absurd thing the dwarf had ever heard in his long life. The bird talked, and it talked in a great booming voice that Dwdal would have thought from a great beast the size of a mountain. It was then that he heard about the monstrous army headed to his friends. The messenger bird then hoped up and flew away, apparently back to its magical master by the name of some Tolestus.

   Dwdal had since driven the pair as hard as he dared, and a great deal further. Yet he knew it would still be four hours till they made the base of the mountain. Dwdal just hoped that the others had made it there ok. So fast was his speed through the trees that when they passed the road he did not notice the strange person on the side of the road.

   Kranth watched as the two ponies and a cart whipped by him heading off in the direction of the mountain. He thought he had spotted a dwarf on one of the ponies, and only hoped that they were going to help his friends. He leaned back against the tree and continued to rest for a few moments more before he resumed his desperate march. He had been running since the night of the battle in the marsh. He had fallen amongst the bodies of his enemies hoping to give his friends long enough to escape. He had fought for a while until finally after his comrades had died he took a spear to the back and had fallen himself. The world had darkened around him, and he had thought he was breathing his last breath. He woke later that night, after everything had gone, with a strange memory playing through his head.

   After he had fallen he had awoke in the fiery gloom of a humble forge somewhere far away. As his vision had cleared he looked around and saw rough stone walls, and tables of unfinished wood. The only light in the room came from the forge, which glowed an orangey white. While he stared at the forge he noticed a muscled arm pulled a bar of metal from the flames and placed it upon an anvil. The anvil looked to be made of beaten gold and was covered in many flowing runes of such beauty he had never seen. Then came the ringing clang of the forge hammer connecting with the bar of metal. When he was a boy, his father had told him that a good and proper dwarf could tell the purity of a metal by the music it made on the anvil. And so it was now that tears ran down his hairy cheeks unchecked, as he listened to the purist sound he had ever heard. He looked up from the metal being hammered and saw the face of the hard working smith. It was a dwarf face as old as the mountains themselves, with a great beard that seemed to know no end. The face seemed familiar to Kranth, yet he could not place it. He knew that he knew this dwarf, yet he also knew that he had never met him in person.

   He was suddenly brought from his thoughts by a booming voice that spoke with the wisdom of millions of years. "Kranth you gave your life for your kith and kin." Kranth nodded his head and quietly responded "As any dwarf worth his gold would do." The aged smith stopped his work and stared hard into Kranth's eyes. It was now that Kranth knew the face, he remembered seeing on every statue of the dwarven mountain and in every mural on the walls. It was Barthuum Everstrike the dwarven creator god. The name "Barthuum"   escaped Kranth in a hushed whisper full of awe and reverence. The dwarven god slowly nodded and raised his hand to a door of forged platinum behind him. "Yes it is me Kranth Morningbrew. I am here to tell you that you have earned your rest and a place in my hall. With your sacrifice and the sacrifice of your fellow, the others were able to escape from the vile monsters." Kranth gave smile at the thought of his friends having escaped. He was glad to know that they were free and alive. Yet Barthuum was not done speaking yet. "Yet they are not safe yet. The goblins gather for a final assault on the mountain and your friends." You truly know what it is to be a dwarf Kranth. I send you now Kranth and with my blessing. Save your brethren." With a wave of his hand everything went black again for Kranth.

   He awoke to a wave of agony that lanced into his left shoulder. He had opened his eyes and noticed everything was gone and over. He moved to sit up using his left arm for support. However he fell over when he moved to lean on his left arm. With dread he looked down and saw where his arm had been, there was now a bloody stump at his shoulder. He was about to panic at the thought of losing his arm, when he once again heard the voice of Barthuum. "Fear not, for you go with my blessing." Suddenly with a flash of heat and pain his arm was back. However is was made of a gold like metal and seemed to contain a great strength. "Go now and save your brethren from those vile goblins." And with those parting words Barthuum's voice faded away.

   Kranth shook away the memory and looked down at his golden arm. He had already travelled along way, and he knew he was close. He just hoped he would arrive with his cargo in time. Kranth had with him strapped to his back a small collection of weapons, that he had collected from the battlefield. These were two pickaxes and three large runic axes. He knew it would not be much yet it was all the dwarves would have. With his mind back to the task at hand Kranth stood straight from his rest and began once more to hurry on. To any who looked on he seemed a golem or dwarven automaton. He was without rest or pause and seemed to all to have endless stamina.

   Four hours later Dwdal pulled his pony to a stop to look at the clearing they had come upon. The forest had ended for the most part at the base of the mountain, as if afraid to grow on its slopes. Yet here the forest was even further away from the mountain seeming to create a semi-circle in the woods. It was here were the dwarves had stopped, because it was here that there was a natural cave. It was a shallow cave and would have sheltered only a few more dwarves then it already did. Yet it was still a cave and defensible at that. Yet the dwarves were not satisfied with that, and as soon as they had arrived they began work on more defences. The Stronghammers collected stones and boulders from inside the cave and from the surrounding area. The Silverpicks then using small chisels from their belts carved them into more square like shapes. The Gemchippers then took these makeshift blocks and had started fitting them together as some sort of wall. Work was still under way but already the dwarves had constructed a 3 foot high wall in the mouth of their cave. At the sight of the dwarves hard at work, Dwdal breathed a sigh of relief.
   Dwdal quickly dismounted and led the pony and cart into the clearing. At the sound of approach the working dwarves rushed behind the wall and grabbed small makeshift spears. Dwdal smiled and called over "Is that any way to treat yer friend? Especially when he be bringin ye food?" Dwdal allowed for his wording to slip back into the much more comfortable dwarven dialect from the fancy common he had been using with the elves. The dwarves all dropped their weapons and cheered, while rushing over. Lorath tossed the group of dwarves several loaves of bread, which was quickly devoured with great enthusiasm. "This is our new friend and ally Lorath, from the local elven village." Most of the other dwarves cared very little as they were quite busy devouring a basket of fruit tossed from the wagon. however Handrel made himself quickly known. "You bring an outsider here?!" he exclaimed in rage. "And an elf on top of that! What sort of dwarf are you?"

   Dwdal was taken aback by the sudden verbal lashing from who he had thought, was no longer leader. "I dont be needin to talk to you, you beardless coward. Where is Grimil?" Handrel turned purple at the insult and responded in a high shrieking voice. "HOW DARE YOU TALK TO ME YOUR KING THAT WAY!!!!!" One of the Stronghammers stepped in to fill Dwdal in on what had happened since he was gone. There had been a vote while Dwdal was away as to who was going to continue leading the group. Grimil had the backing of the Silverpicks and the Blessed Gunner. While Handrel had the support of the Stronghammers and the other Gemchipper. It had been a split vote, with us deciding  to wait for your vote. Then Handrel had revealed the papers from the King announcing how Handrel was to own everything of the mountain and that he was to be king of this mountain. This forced the Blessed Gunner to side with Handrel and caused the vote to go in his favour. Dwdal was disgusted at what he heard and turned back to Handrel with his own voice raised. "Well I cast my vote in Grimil's favour, meaning it's a tie and you can't lead." Handrel however just smiled and responded in a level voice. "Tie means nothing, I remain in ruler ship unless you can beat my existing vote."

   Dwdal gnashed his teeth and silently fumed while he tried to come up with an idea. However it was Grimil who spoke next emerging from the gloom of the cave. "Yes you retain ruler ship of this group, however you do not have the full support of the clans so cannot decide the rules and laws of this mountain. Nor can you prevent the involvement of outsiders." Handrel scoffed and quickly remarked, "What nonsense is this I have the support of three clans, while you have two." It was the Blessed Gunner who interrupted Handrel at this point. "You are wrong my King. Since you have become our king, you by law revoke your ties to the Bronzebeard clan. This means that you have the support of the Gemchippers and the Stronghammers. While Grimil has the support of the Silverpicks and the Everhinds." The Blessed Gunner paused taking  a breath before going on. "This means that you own and lead every dwarf here as king. However for you to pass any laws, regulations or plans you must have the majority support vote of the clan council. Handrel fumed and stuttered unable to think of what to say or do in response to the dwarven custom. "You cannot.... I command..... How dare." His fumbling and fuming stopped however when everyone turned and looked at the edge of the clearing were there came the crunch of a heavy boot.
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Brewster

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Re: The Founding of a Home
« Reply #33 on: November 13, 2012, 07:29:12 pm »

Hrm the forum crashed while I was trying to post, so you didn't get my original post. It had a lot of exclamation marks and excitement about this past chapter. Quick question, how many clans are there? There are 4 here, with a Morningbrew clansmen on the way, which DIBS by the way, I want Kranth since you're letting me have another character!  :o

Kranth confuses me, I'm not sure who he would side with based on the first few chapters and his plot to get Grimil come on the expedition. He has a cool new metal arm. He needs to bash the base of a tree trunk with a signal punch, causing it to collaps on an ogre and he needs to say a cool catch phrase like "timber bitches", lol.

Stronghammer

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Re: The Founding of a Home
« Reply #34 on: November 13, 2012, 07:54:20 pm »

lol Im glad you like it and yes you may have Kranth. His siding is mixed. Right now he cares more about what will help the group to survive. And by exclamation marks do you me errors that you found?
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Brewster

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Re: The Founding of a Home
« Reply #35 on: November 13, 2012, 08:14:39 pm »

No like ! while I exclaimed thing, like Amazing! Wowzer! Woopie! Neato!

Stronghammer

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Re: The Founding of a Home
« Reply #36 on: November 13, 2012, 08:25:53 pm »

lol "wowzer" im glad your liking it
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Brewster

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Re: The Founding of a Home
« Reply #37 on: November 14, 2012, 07:47:51 am »

I just realized a VERY awkward moment is about to occur. Dwdal needs to take his axe and chop down a few trees down, and I'm sure his elf lady friend is about to lose her mind when she sees this. I'd imagine she would shut her trap though because she realizes she's not in her village but is with a bunch of beer soaked brains and probably not the best time to upset them. I'd imagine she'd do some hippy elf magic with a seed to help regrow the downed trees faster or something though.

I would like to see Kranth, the first moment he gets, brew a beer, calling it like The Goldenarm Lager or something cool. We need more ALCOHOL!!

Stronghammer

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Re: The Founding of a Home
« Reply #38 on: November 15, 2012, 09:15:07 am »

I would like to see Kranth, the first moment he gets, brew a beer, calling it like The Goldenarm Lager or something cool. We need more ALCOHOL!!

Laughed so hard here. Alcohol will be present soonish. And the elven friend may or may not be a hippy elf.

Dont read the spoiler if you dont want info spoiled
Spoiler (click to show/hide)
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Stronghammer

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Re: The Founding of a Home
« Reply #39 on: November 15, 2012, 10:25:02 pm »

See, I can follow my own plans and schedule.

Chapter 14


   Kranth's face broke into a smile as he saw the many shocked faces of his remaining friends. "Well don't just stand their slack jawed, ye bunch of blunderin Gnomes. We got work to do." It was then that the silence was broken by a thunderous cheer from the gathered dwarves. As one they raced over to see up close their brother returned from the dead. As they surrounded him, there was many a rough pat or gruff nod, yet it was Grimil who spoke what was on all their minds. "How did ye get out? Where have ye been?" He had further questions, but they all stopped dead when he noticed the golden arm. "I think that ye have quite the tale to tell us Kranth. But first we need ye to vote, who do ye wish to lead the group?" Handrel who had by this point made his way over to the group, spoke up. "Yes do you wish or your true King and the rightful leader to be in charge or do you wish for this miner upstart to lead." As he finished Handrel folded his arms and watched Kranth in a cool tone.

   Kranth however made to move to speak or respond. He stood there thinking on the matter at hand, just as any good dwarf would. His eyes moved back and forth between Handrel who looked smug and Grimil who simply stood and watched Kranth. He stood thinking and stroking his mustache for what seemed like an eternity until finally he came to a decision. "The way I see it Handrel has current rulership of the mountain, but Grimil has the backing of the Clans." Grimil nodded, a knowing smile slowly spreading on his face. Handrel however was not smiling, being used to the many politics of the dwarven court he immediately saw Kranth's plan and was not pleased. "You must vote, for either me or him there can be no middle ground." Kranth chuckled and smiled all the wider while Grimil also smiling stepped in and spoke for Kranth. "Actually only a clan leader can force a clan member to vote on anything. And seeing as Kranth is his own clan leader, he can choose to not vote." Kranth nodded and continued the rest of the idea to the stunned Handrel. "That's right and since the king does not have the council vote, he cannot remove a clan, and vise versa." It was the Blessed Gunner who spoke up at this point quite pleased with the outcome of the events. "It effectively creates a balance of power between the council and King. The King controls the treasury, land, army and foreign affairs. However the council controls all clan affairs and holdings."

   The dwarves all nodded their agreement with the plan, except Handrel whose face was at this point redder then the reddest tomato. He growled his next few words before stomping off into the cave. "You will live to regret this day." Grimil waited until Handrel was out of earshot before turning and grinning at Kranth. "You know that will only work for now, and that we will eventually have to deal with him." The other dwarves all laughed at Kranth's next response. "Let us deal with that disaster when it hits." The dwarves all turned to Dwdal as he cleared his throat to get attention. "I brought food and seeds for planting." Grimil smiled and clapped Dwdal on the shoulder. "I send you out to hunt, and you bring me back a banquet and an ally. I should send you to the mines to look for gold." The dwarves all chuckled before Kranth raised his hands for attention. "I also was able to grab three Runic Axes, as well as the mining picks." As he spoke he handed out the weapons and tools.

   The Silverpicks all raced forward and grabbed their picks, which served as both weapon and profession. The two Stronghammer's stepped forward and took each a Runic axe, most likely weapons forged by their hands. Kranth took the last axe as Dwdal already had his crossbow and axe, while the Gemchipper's did not use axes. In fact when pressed about the issue the Blessed Gunner spoke up surprising the group. "I need no weapon, to fight the monsters with." Grimil had been about to argue the point when with a wave of his hand a rune flared to life in the air. "I need no weapon for I have the language of our god Barthuum." The group quietly murmured at this latest change. Kranth decided that it would be the best time to relay his information.     

   "The monsters will be here in but a day, to overrun us. Barthuum sent me back and fixed me arm to tell ye." As he spoke he raised his golden arm to show the small crowd. "I dont know how many are coming, and I don't know if Barthuum will help us anymore then he has." He looked at his arm and at the Blessed Gunner to demonstrate his point. "But I do know that here we have a chance to stand. If we work together and dig in, we can hold them off." The dwarves gave a rousing cheer while Kranth turned to Grimil. "What can you do in a day, Master miner." Grimil grinned and looked down at his clan pick once more in his hands. "Well with these I think I can get the cave deeper, the walls thicker and the opening more narrow." Kranth nodded in understanding and agreement. "I like your idea, if we funnel them we will have the advantage with superior quality weapons and armour." The other dwarves all nodded in agreement, it was the most basic of dwarven defences and often one of the best. One of the Stronghammers though suddenly looked concerned and quickly interjected. "It's a good plan, but what of trolls and ogres, they will just smash down our walls." The mood of the dwarves seemed to suddenly darken, until the Blessed Gunner spoke. "Normally you would be right. However as you place each stone on the wall, I will inscribe it with runes of strength and power." The group brightened and quickly dispersed, as the plan looked sound.

   However as the group went back to work Grimil walked over and spoke to him in hushed tones. "You may give us some extra time, but your runes won't last forever." The Gunner nodded in agreement though looked unconcerned as he responded. "You are right Gimil, yet it gives them hope and the runes will last a little while." Kranth wondered over and clapped both dwarves on the shoulder while joining in on the conversation. "So do either of you think we will even last the first night?" The situation took on a more dire gloom when it was put into perspective like that. Yet there was little they could do to change their predicament, so they would shoulder the burden like any good dwarf would. So they were all of the same mind as Grimil spoke. "We will last long enough to make this army pay dearly." With those final thoughts, they separated and went to their work, trying to gain any possible advantage they could over the attacking army.

   The sound of a horn blew loud and clear across the valley. It was deep and boomed through the trees, shaking them as it blew and sent every bird squawking into the air. The horn blower paused only long enough for a breath before sounding it again. Again it shook the trees and seemed to shake the very air. However the noise of that horn paled in comparison to the sudden thunderous sound of marching feet. The sound came from the great army of the Grey as it poured from the many caves and deep grottos. They poured forth into the valley, like great rivers pouring into an empty lake. The black tide stretched over the entire valley and then suddenly stopped. The air was filled with an eerie quiet as the ten thousand monsters stood still. There was goblins and kobolds, troglodytes and orcs, ogres and trolls. So vast was the Grey's army that it even had two small hill giants. Yet silent as a whisper they stood, to afraid to break the silence. Suddenly with a flash of lightning the Grey appeared atop a high boulder in front of the great force. He was clad in long grey robes, with silver script that flowed along it. He looked out at his great force and saw the thousands of faces staring back at him. Finally he spoke. "I have gathered all my power, and all my strength here for a single purpose. To long have we stayed from the sight of the southern kingdoms. It has been so long that the dwarves have forgotten about us and dared venture forth." His dark eyes glared out at the army from under beetled eyebrows. "This must not be allowed. We must destroy these interlopers. We must wipe them from our lands." He raised his hands high into the air as he spoke next, being sure to have all the monsters attention. "Therefore, go forth and crush them. There will be no retreat, no surrender. Cowards will be crushed, and any to craven to fight will die." His final words he spoke in a scream, whipping the army into a frenzy. "Death or vitory!!!"

   With those final words the  army charged forth causing the earth to tremble. Trees were crushed and animals fled before them. This was to be the greatest march, the north had seen in hundreds of years. Barthuum looked on with a deep sorrow. There was no way that the dwarves would hold. No way that his champion would succeed. He cursed himself for not having foreseen the march of the goblins. Why had he allowed for these beasts to gain such strength. He gathered some hope from the knowledge that even as these poor few died, he would rouse the dwarven kingdoms in revenge. For now however he owed it to these few to watch the coming battle, and to prepare their place in his hall.

   Barthuum was not the only god looking down on the march that dark day. Elathern goddess of the elves too looked down. Yet though she looked with sorrow, she quickly realised that she and her followers might have a role to play. She realised that most likely any she sent to help the dwarves, would die to. Yet she could not allow for the dwarves to make their stand alone. She also knew that for the sake of one of her people currently with the dwarves, she had to send help. So she did the only thing she could. She appeared to one of the priests in the elven village close to dwarves. "Elder, I call thee." The old elf woke quickly with a start. Upon seeing the ghostly image of his deity, he fell from his bed and prostrated himself. "Rise wise Elder, I seek aid from you and your people......

   It was not long after that meeting, that the Elder took what he thought was the last look at his village. The willow trees by the pond swayed gently in the leaves. The orchards had already turned orange and yellow for the year, so seemed as if they were living flame. The small huts and homes dotted the many trees of the village, yet seemed a natural part of the forest. The windows no longer glowed softly from the wood fires in the many hearths. And the village did not ring with soft music. For the whole village had been called upon. Every man, woman, and child had been asked to go and defend the dwarves. And so the elven host of 67 warriors stood in shining mail, looking like the Elder at their village for the last time. Finally on some unseen signal the host turned and quickly marched away.       
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Brewster

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Re: The Founding of a Home
« Reply #40 on: November 17, 2012, 12:57:54 am »

10,000 vs 77 ...  :o

Kranth needs to be at the forefront of the bottleneck bashing bitches in the face.
Dwdal needs a nice vantage point w/ his elf lady and sniper from above.
Of course his cover is eventually blown and he takes an arrow to the leg and Lorath needs to heal him in a nice intimate/romantic moment.
Anyways... fits gonna hit the shan here soon.

Stronghammer

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Re: The Founding of a Home
« Reply #41 on: November 18, 2012, 12:32:23 pm »

oh yes, we are nearing the end of book 1. But no worries the story will go on.

 :P No matter how twisted and mangled it becomes
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Brewster

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Re: The Founding of a Home
« Reply #42 on: November 18, 2012, 01:21:54 pm »

╔═════════╗
╤╥+++╥╤╥║
║+☺++++++║
║+╤╥+++
║+╤╥++++++║
║+☺+++
╚════════╝

Wild Boar Tavern


Grimil called for another round as the bartender looked back over to his spot on the bar. The Bartender passed another mug of ale Grimils way and then went back to his wiping of the bar.


Some different fan art.  :o

Stronghammer

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Re: The Founding of a Home
« Reply #43 on: November 18, 2012, 09:20:56 pm »

OMG epic :D

Edit: No chapter today, tomorrow evening instead
« Last Edit: November 19, 2012, 08:00:06 am by Stronghammer »
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Stronghammer

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Re: The Founding of a Home
« Reply #44 on: November 20, 2012, 07:48:17 pm »

Here it is

Chapter 15


   Day and night the sound of pick on stone sounded. With every swing of a pick the miners brought the dwarves that little bit more safety and edge. While the Silverpicks worked tirelessly the Stronghammers chiseled and hewed, froming stone and wood into any form of barrier. The Gemchippers placed block after block into their little barrier that reached to the ceiling now. The wood had been fashioned into crude arrows and bolts for Dwdal and Lorath finished into arrows. The miners had already fashioned something of a archery tower for the pair, right above the entrance to the cave. It was crude and not likely to last long, yet with the runes of the Gunner they hoped it would last long enough. The Gunner as well worked tirelessly inscribing rune after rune onto every stone of the wall. He knew it was fast and weak work, he just hoped that it would strengthen the wall enough. They worked at a frantic pace for two days, until the second evening the low boom of a horn sounded. Long and terrible it boomed through the small cave of the dwarves, and echoed through the tower. As one the dwarves stopped their work and knew what it meant. Dwdal and Lorath said their fair wells to the others and climbed up into their tower. The other dwarves led by Kranth rushed back inside and grabbed their weapons. The enemy was at hand, they only hoped they had prepared enough.

   The black horde quickly came into sight and flowed into the valley. The dwarves saw the broad shapes of orcs that stood above their goblin cousins. They could also make out the tall skinny forms of trolls and the shorter and broader ogres. They had thought that, that had been it when they spotted the two hill giants. There was a collective gasp and the Gunner whispered a pray of strength for the runes. He just hoped they would hold. With another booming drawl of the horn the horde came to a stop at the edge of the dwarven clearing. The dwarves watched as the assembled monster grumbled and shoved each other making way for an aged goblin. When the small beast had made its way to the head of the horde it raised its arms high into the air and waved an ornate staff. Suddenly everything became silent as if a power force repressed all sound. Grimil could not even hear the clink of his mail. Yet before he could dwell on it further the goblin began to speak.

   "Fear dwarves, for I have come this day!" Its voice cracked off of the rocks and mountain side and made the trees tremble. "Long have you ignorant creatures burrowed in the dirt and refused to recognise the greatness before you. Never again will you, for I will wipe you from the very rock you cherish." The Blessed Gunner gasped as he realised who the creature before him was. "It is the Grey." The other dwarves all looked to the gunner but it was only Kranth who was old enough to recognise the name. "It cannot be! We brought that thing down when I was but an unbearded lad." The Gunner nodded in agreement but was interrupted before he could reply. "DO NOT INTERRUPT ME WORM!!" Screamed the Grey, before quickly regaining his calm. "I would have thought that you dwarves would not be in such a hurry to die? My mistake." With those final words the horde leapt forward to the attack.

   Forwards they rushed with all abandon, seeming to not care what was before them. And so it was because of that reckless abandon that they did not notice the small stone tower. Dwdal and Lorath quickly had decided to ignore the orcs and goblins and focus their attention and arrows upon the ogres and trolls. With a twang and a click the elf and dwarf flung their hatred down upon the enemy in the form of pointed death. The first two shots were unnoticed and took two ogres in the eyes killing them instantly. So too was the second, third and fourth shots. However after the 8th troll or ogre fell the goblin archers took note. In unison the archers scrambled forwards and loosed a volley. Dwdal and Lorath ducked behind the wall to let the arrows fly past. As soon as the arrows passed Dwdal and Lorath jumped up and fired.
 
   Again and again they repeated this process taking down ogre and troll alike. However soon more and more archers arrived and there arrived few moments were they fired. Yet this did not deter the two as they loosed arrow after arrow upon the horde. This was the most exhilarating moment of Dwdal's life, fighting for clan and kingdom. It was made all the better with his new companion and friend, Lorath. Her haired wiped back and forth as she quickly darted up to loose and then dropped back down. He found that he had started to develop feelings for the elf and knew that he Runemaster was right. He gave himself a gruff shake to bring himself back to the task at hand. With those thoughts pressed to the back of his mind he jumped up to fire his crossbow. However as he stood there came the sickening thud as an arrow pierced the front of his chest. With a cry of surprise he fell back under the cover of the tower wall. He fell to the ground and stared into the sky as the shock and realisation of what happened kicked in. Lorath turned at the sound of the fall and cried out to Dwdal. "Dwdal!!" She darted forwards and leaned over him to try and assess the damage. All Dwdal could do was stare into her eyes as the boulder thrown by the giant crashed into her unseen from behind.

   Grimil and Kranth saw the launch of the boulder and felt the cave tremble at the impact, but could do nothing as they fought for their lives in the entrance. The stood shoulder to shoulder, and swung their weapons as hard and as fast as they could. The goblins could not even get a swing in on the two, as they had to approach one at a time. However there was no relief for the two, because the goblins just continued to stream in. Already 40 goblins lay piled about the door, yet the beasts continued to charge. The dwarves had hoped that the bodies would pile up and give them time to quickly switch positions. However the goblins were unnaturally smart and pulled the bodies away as their brethren continued to fall. The two looked grim as they hacked away. They knew they were doomed but could do nothing about it. Already their arms and chest were soaked in the black red blood of the beasts, yet they could not stop. Handrel mean while stood at the back of the cave a pleased smile on his face as the two fought relentlessly.

   He had no doubt that the dwarves would hold out against the beasts. If they became over run he would get one of the miners to collapse the entrance and he would be safe. Yet he also knew that the longer his two political fought the more likely they would die. And so with these plots and delusions in mind Handrel prevented the others from getting close to the two defenders. As a result when opportunities presented themselves for the dwarves to swap, no one was in position to swap. Handrel almost giggled when he heard and felt the impact of the boulder on the tower outside the cave. He knew that mostly likely a giant had thrown it, which meant that two more of his enemies fell without a fight. The other dwarves looked dark and grim as they stayed back from the two valiant defenders. Every fiber of their being called for them to rush to the aid of their endangered, yet their King and oaths prevented it. Finally however the Blessed Gunner could take it no longer and rushed forwards to the aid of his fellows.

   Suddenly it seemed to Handrel that all was lost and that his foes would survive the battle. The whole stress of the battle and the hopeless of the situation finally was too much for Handrel and something inside snapped. With a bellowed "NOOOOOOO!!" He pulled free his hidden sword and charged. So embattled was Kranth and Grimil that they did not here the charge, and the Gunner did not turn in time to stop the charging king. With a sudden pressure and pain from behind Grimil looked down to see a dwarven Silversteel sword burst from his chest. The pain was heart stopping and he knew that it was a mortal blow, yet he could not let down his clan and fellow dwarves. And so with the last ounce of his fading strength he shoved Kranth back and swung his pick. His aim was strong and true, as the pick connected with the capstone of the doorway. He fell to the floor as the cave entrance began to crumble and his last thought he knew that he had saved the others for now.
   
   Handrel looked up with horror and dived back into the cave. Sadly it was one of those twists of fate and Handrel escaped the collapse. The others all looked around as the collapse finally came to an end and the dust finally began to settle. Kranth jumped to his feet and swirled around and stared at Handrel. "What happened? One moment we were fighting and the other moment I was pushed back and the entrance collapsed. Handrel stood shakily and cleared his head of the berserker rage. When his thoughts cleared and he looked at the others, he could not believe his luck. The others had not seen his murder. "I noticed that Grimil had not finished off a goblin, so had charged forward to stop the beast. Yet I was not fast enough to stop it before it had stab Grimil." The others looked sceptical at Handrel, clearly not believing all of it. However with no proof they could not say. At least the goblins were at bay......For now.   
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