Npc time: Goblin Dusk

[kadrik]

Gerhard and his squires marched happily towards their estate, the colony was not far ahead now over the grassy plains. They had now left the forest, and the Imperial road, and were having a leisurely stroll along the countryside as the sun began to set in the east.
The moons were now visable in the sky, which was blood red, the sun had fallen upon the land, and its beautifull blood glazed the sky in a shower of pink and blue.

The ford at Fennek point was not far away, and the manlings looked forward to sleeping soundly in their own beds. Soon it became visable, and it appeared there were some people resting there. Human by their size, and due to the scarsity of elves. As the party came closer they could make out three men, two kneeling down on the stone bridge, and one lieing flat on the floor. Gerhard signaled for the squires to look alert,
"Hey there, what are you doing here?" He said, with hesitation in his voice.
No answer came, and so he drew his knewly purchased crossbow, and began to stride forward, aiming in their direction. He repeated his cry, and now he was close enough to make them out, they were yeoman, but not from his estate, from that of his neighbours.
"I say! What are you doing? Why is that man lay upon the ground?" He came close, and he could see the man's clothes were soaked in blood, the other two had their swords stuck in the mud beside him.
"Goblins ma'lord, on wolves, I don't know no more since thems was his last words sire."
"Goblins, this far into territory, how many?" Gerhard said, with more than a little disbelief in his voice, he looked at the man, and he had been slain by a blow to the back, just bellow the shoulder.
"It was this wat did it sire, this spear, it was still in him when we found him!"
The men held aloft a short handled spear, which had been made from wood and a crude spear point nailed unto the end. It was obviously of goblin construction.
" I see, how long ago did you find..."
Gerhard's speach was cut short, a blood curdeling howl ravaged the fields about them, followed by another, then another. All the men looked about in all directions, and began to fumble for their weapons.
"Not long ago, sire, do you think they will come back? I don't want to fight no goblins today sire" More howls began to cry out, and it seemed they came from in front and behind them.
"I'm afraid the decision seems to have been made for us. Form a circle around the bridge, squat into the gully and get any cover you can."
Gerhard signaled, and his squires began to form up along the dry river bed bellow the old bridge.
Gerhard peered over the top of the river bed and looked up to see if he there was any sign of attack, but there was none. The wolf howls had stopped, and nothing stired in the grass. Suddenly there was a sound from behind, he turned round, as did many of the squires, but it was no goblin, nor wolf.

One of the yeoman had climbed out of the gully and was running due northwards, like a man possesed. He dropped all his equipment and even his clothes that weighed him down. One squire whispered to Gerhard.
"Should we stop him my lord?"
Gerhard looked on in distaste, half in a trance, then shook his head.
"Nay, save your arrows my lad, he is dead by all accounts. Those wolves can outrun a horse, there is no hope for a man who runs. I want all of you to look in all directions, be ready, for anything."
Gerhard said slowly, his eyes darting around.
Suddenly, wolves howling began a great chorus over the hill, in the direction that the man had just ran. Screams of terror were cut short and drowned out by yet more howling. Gerhard was sure of it now, the goblins were coming.

[kadrik]

The howls stopped again, and all those in the gulley lay straining their ears trying to hear of anything that might break the silence. They even wished to be terrified by the sound of the beasts, rather than the torturous feeling of anxiety in the drowing silence.

Some of the squires thought (though they dared not say anything), that they might be able to avoid detection by merely staying here in this gulley out of sight. Gerhard however, knew that the main sense of a wolf, was not its sight, but its smell. It was only a matter of time before they were found, and he was determined to be ready....

---

The goblins allowe their mounts to lead them, following the footprints of the sniveling human to the rest of his freinds. Unfortunatly the wolves had bitten the mans face off before he could be interogated, but it mattered little, because the wolves would find them none the less.

The tracks led to the ford, and the goblins began to ready for a silent assault, because if the situation had been reveresed, they would have hidden there. Slowly and cautiously they came on, watching an waiting, untill slowly a head in a helmet popped out over the top of the bank, and spotted them, it opened its mouth to scream, but a hand covered its mouth and dragged it down. The wolves gave a snarl from their now drooling mouths, showing their many rajor sharp canine teeth.

---

Gehard grabbed the squire by the face to stop him screaming, then signaled for them to grab their bows.
The rag tag warriors set their arrows ready, and as one they lunged onto the bank as if it were the firing step of a trench. Even as the looked on, horror filled their eyes,
massive hulking wolves, scared and decorated in a wash of black paints, blood, and black rags, and atop these already discouraging beasts, near naked goblins, covered in menacing black warpaint in swirling and generic patterns, with pelts of ferocious animals hanging about their groins and drapped over their shoulders.

[kadrik]

The squires loosed a half hearted volley, flying into the line of wolves in a fearful blast, some of the arrows hit wolves, piercing their mane and causing them to tumble down, crushing their rider. Some of the riders where knocked clean off their mounts, which subsequently turned round to feed on their former masters.

This volley however was not enough to deter the raiders, who howled war cries and came on ever faster.
A second, more determined volley rang out, with Gerhard's crossbow sending a bolt through another wolf, knocking its rider off, though this time the goblin survived. The squires drew their swords and readied themselves for the assault, ready to fight for their lives.

The wolf riders came on, diving into the gully, throwing spears flew into the manlings and many fell dead, then the wolves rode on over the over side, many carrying off other men screaming, who had not been slain by projectiles.
"Turn around squires! They will pass us again, turn and fire into their hearts!" Gerhard screamed as he fired a fourth bolt, keeping up with the bowman in rate of fire.

The wolves came on again, now streaming with the blood of the men they had carried off and mauled before they began their second hit and run charge.
More arrows flew at them, although in disorganized fashion, without unison, the wolves came on again, this time, tomahawk axes struck down into the humans, of those who survived this attack many men were carried off in the mouths of the great wolves, and their screams resounded in the ears of their comrades, as they were thrown around like rag dolls.

Gerhard clambered out of the gully, and onto the bridge, followed by half the squires, they other half so stricken with fear they stayed were they were and maintained their rate of fire. The wolf riders came on again, this time wielding crude axes and swords. Picking up speed, the beasts headed straight for the warriors upon the bridge, Gerhard called for a volley and he was answered, firing his own crossbow before the wolves were too close.

Then he grasped for his halberd and drove it into the chest of the wolf charging at him, smashing through its ribs and into its organs with a great fountain of blood.
Yet the momentum of the beast dragged both over the bridge crashing down into the hard dry riverbed bellow.

---

The raiders abandoned their hit and run tactic, and fought their way over the bridge, the squires fought bravely, and two wolves collapsed over the bridge and shattered their legs in the fall. Soon enough the wolves slaughtered those squires upon the bridge, and the last four wolf riders dove into the river gully to finish off the last squires underneath them.

The squires fought like caged animals, their swords slashing down a wolf and its rider in moments, five of them had survived so far, and they swarmed the enemy using the craped conditions to prevent the enemy ganging up on them. Five arrows glanced off into the wolf riders, slaying their riders, and one final wolf, before the last remaining wolves set upon them from both sides and feasted on their flesh.

---

Gerhard returned to consciousness after his fall, and found himself lay in the warm, though mangy coat of a great wolf. His body was seeped in blood as he sat up, to see two great wolves dining on the flesh of his squires. He had not yet been seen, and so he tried to grasp for his halberd, which was shattered in half by either the force of the impact or the fall.
His sword was no were to be seen, but he saw before him the fine dwarf crossbow just out of arms reach.

He crawled up, grabbing it but as he did so, one of the wolves turned it bloodstained face to wards him, releasing a snarl, and as it did so, a chunk of flesh slumped to the floor in a pool of saliva.

Gerhard swung up to his knees, firing a bolt into the beast's head as it turned at him, the beast fell dead, but its companion was alerted, and bounded at him as he frantically tried to reload the crossbow, he wound it back as the beast opened its gaping jaws before him, and in desperation he fired into its upper mandible.
The bolt smashed through its jaw and up into the beast's skull, killing it instantly.

Gerhard breathed a sign of relief, before collapsing back down to the floor in exhaustion.

[Drasanil]

[OOC: 20xps.]

[kadrik]

Gerhard heard hooves clatter on the stone of ford, and roused himself from his fatigue. He became aware of the grimness of his situation, which before he had not took any notice of, his sense were assaulted with the sight, smell, and even taste (for he had at some point bitten his tongue) of blood. The river bed was now stained with the blood of the creatures that had met their end in this place. Body parts, arrows, and strangely, many black feathers were seen all over the place.

"It appears that our yeoman and squires have managed to stop most of the raiders. Though it is a shame that they all seem to have died in this valiant act." Gerhard turned to were the voice came from, and looked to see a man upon a horse, with blue robes hanging about him and exquisite looking armor.
This was obviously Holn Bremen, the owner of the land that he currently lay in. About Holn, where many of his retinue, an escort of squires and a few of his noble blooded companions.

Gerhard scrambled to his feet, for this man was his neighbor, and for his to be out of his home meant it would have to be safe.
"Holm my good man! Not all perished here, I live to fight another day!"
Gerhard scrambled to his feet and out of the gully, still clutching his crossbow, then forced himself to his feet so he did not have to look up to his fellow.

The noble and his retinue wear startled by this sudden appearance of a survivor, and came forth to greet Gerhard. Holn ran to embrace him, but thought better of it once he saw the warriors gore soaked clothes and armor. Instead, the two men shook hands.

"How is it that you survived, when all others seemed to have died? Are you badly wounded?
"I'm fine good noble, though more than glad that you are here and that I would not have to complete my journey alone."
"This is most miraculous, the gods must have some purpose for you for you to survive such a skirmish!" Holn said, with both respect and scrutiny in his eyes, for he suspected perhaps Gerhard had hidden himself to avoid an ill fate.
"If a miracle my liege, this is a dwarf made, revolving cartridge pump and wind miracle.
I would not be alive if it not for this crossbow, I used it to slay the last wolf even as its jaws closed upon my person." Gerhard stated, shuddering, and brandishing the crossbow with reverence.

The two men began to speak, and it became apparent that the goblins had raided one of Holn's farms killing five people, and stolen nothing but a map of his lands, Holn had ridden out to bring the raiders to justice, and come across this scene.

Soon a squire came forth, with a worried look on his face. He came forward to Holn, who seemed eager to hear what he had to say.
"Ma lord, we have searched the dead, but none o' them ave the map, not even our own poor lads.
I've checked and there's one less goblin corpse than wolf, so a reckon that one of em got away."
Holn spat on the floor, and cursed under his breath.

"Double the search, and Sergent, I want the map, and the head of the goblin who carries it, in my hall by tomorrow."

[kadrik]

The rider came back at dawn, his silhouette upon the horizon growing like a shadow on the plains against a canvas of yellow wild moorland behind.
His tormented steed galloped on as its rider limp body swung about on its saddle. The dwarfs eyes were set with a unquenchable madness and insane fear of what lay behind him. As he reached the stately home of Holn Bremen, his ragged form drew the horrified faces of all those whom looked to him. His naked body defaced and torn by shoddy but razor sharp blades, and besides his bloody rents from knife wounds and terrible whips, spilling blood slowly over his muddy skin, he was covered from head to toe in tattoos. His beard and head were shaven, and shone in their nakedness bathed in the all percieving sunlight.
His entire body was sketched with black marks like he were a wall and mindless vandals had seen fit to leave their mark upon him. On his arms, legs and neck were scrawling raw lines and designs supposed to look like rays of dark light emanating from his chest and back, where in the center of his body was a the deeply engraved symbol of the black star.
The townsfolk helped him off the horse and putting their bodies between his shoulders bore him forth towards his master, Holn Bremen, whom was sat in a wooden chair looking at his accounts.
The wealthy landowner stood up in horrific awe at this abomination of a being, this creature bereft of all dignity and honor, and completely broken in body and will. The man cried out, using his withered strength in a attempt to release his heart rending message to his master. Dwarfs usualy so proud and magnanimous, this broken figure of a once powerfull, and most suprisingly, local dwarf.
He muttered some croaking and illegible sound, then another piercing and guttural moan, as if he had forgotten how to speak and was trying to force language out of his throat by vomiting it out.
Tears streamed out his scarlet red eyes, and he slumped to the ground in a pathetic heap.
The dwarf breathed heavily and those around him ran about to get him water, clothes and other less important things. An old woman placed a tin plate filled with water on his lips, and he guzzled down as if he had never drank in his life. Like a dog he poured it down his throat faster than he could swallow it and it ran down his bloody face to his dirt slicked skin.
Then finally, with his throat lubricated by the water, he spoke in a maddened and fear ridden voice.

"T'were the gobbo's! The fookin' Black Stars," The man stopped for a moment writhing in pain, his words trailing into anguish once more, his eye falling down to his body in horror at his loss of dignity.
"Skolgit their fookin' shaman killed yer outriders Holn, I helped the survivers but we got captured."
The Dwarfs face was filled with a imense look of disbeleif as if his current condition were all a bad dream.
His stomache ached with a thousand regrets as he rolled his limbs limply in an attempt to restore life to them.
"Get me tae Kadrik! Clothe me an' bring me pigs fat and orange dye!"
The towns folk knew too well what this meant, and Holn looked blankly, signaling to his valet that the dwarfs wishes were to be seen too.

[kadrik]

The dwarf's wounds were tended to as best they could be done. What was left of his beard was trimmed back into shape, but was now a scraggly and unimpressive mess. Soon, what was left of his beard and hair where died orange, and spiked up as is the custom of a troll slayer. He was fed and watered, like an animal, for his body had endured much torment and he had no strength save to stay breathing.

Soon he was placed upon a chair, and born aloft by serfs towards the gates of the Quarry, like a slann lord from far away lands, limp and fragile, in a trance like state of pain near the point of unconsciousness.
Indeed, a human or elf subjected to such torture would probably have lost the will to live and died through shock to the nerves, yet the hardy dwarf barely managed to stay alive. Soon he would be before Thane Kadrik, and he would tell his tale so that vengeance could be done. Then all that was left to be done, was the reclamation of his honor, and his redemption in death...

[kadrik]