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LarryTheArch
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Icewind Dale: before Drizzt
Hey look its me little... nay large tale. enjoy it, and give comments... ill be also be posting the rest as i write it.
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Due to cat's embarrasment, this qoute has been removed.
BTW- Not actually Tired Hiker 
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Feb 6th, 2004 03:44 AM |
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LarryTheArch
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Prologue – Icewind Dale
This is based on the books by R.A. Salvatore, or rather based on the computer game Icewind Dale II that is based on R.A. Salvatore’s books. The Icewind Dale is a cold and desolate place, with an almost constant wind chill of –50 degrees. Goblins, Orcs, giants (Verbeeg, Frost Giants), Tundra Yeti, and even demons populate the “Wondrous” Icewind Dale. Icewind Dale is set around the Spine of the World, which is a chain of mountains that are almost always more ice than dirt. The tallest of these mountains is Kelvin’s Cairn, which is the mountain from where Maer Dualdon, Redwaters, and another river spring. Among the warring Goblin clans, the numerous human barbarians (I.E. Tribe of the Elk, Tribe of the Bear, Tribe of the Wang, etc.), towering giants, and Orc hordes is the Ten-Towns, the only bastion of civilization. The ten towns, in order of most powerful to least, Byrn Shander, Targos, Termalaine, Easthaven, Bremen, Caer Dinival, Caer Konig, Lonelywood, Dougan’s Hole and Good Mead. All trade, argue, and aid each other, and in the untamed land it is a haven for adventurers. Rumors of a dragon named Icingdeath, aquatic elves, and untold riches and fame litter the land, attracting adventurers from all over the face of Faerun, even as far south as Waterdeep, Amn, Cormyr, Bluedale hills, and Baulder’s Gate. In this story, the main characters are a party of three adventurers from Luskan who have arrived just during a major battle at Targos. Set after the year of the Cold Soul, but before Drizzt Do’Urden ever graced the surface world (approximately 16 years before.). Please be kind to the tale, I am only 13.
Chapter 1 – Arrival at Targos
The men of Targos had just finished raising and setting the last plank of the palisade onto the wall as the large force of goblins came into Minsc's view. Men rushed frantically below and 100 well-trained and battle-hardened veterans stopped training the 300 newly recruited soldiers and went into a defensive formation near the gate. The recruits mainly took up bows and crossbows, and then took up position along the wall and began to randomly shoot at the Goblin horde coming down upon them. Almost 600 goblins rushed down the hill, and an allied catapult fired a magically enhanced boulder into the charging horde, crushing almost 20 and exploding with such force that it knocked down and killed another 30 goblins. The cowardly goblins, had been given a kind of "strength" by magical domination, and as such, rushed down fearlessly, gaining ground toward the Targos palisade quickly. The men at the gates raised their swords and flails and morningstars and maces. Men in the back prepared one-shot crossbows, and men in the front sheathed their previous weapons and each took a spear from the recruits passing them out. The veterans took up a defensive formation, the spearmen two feet from the gate, the cross-bow men right behind them, and almost 40 men ready to cut down anyone else that charged at them. The goblins had passed the ford, and now were making their way across the small plain that lead to the gate. Recruits formed a reinforcement bank near the gate, ready to charge into battle and influx their comrades at any time. The few wizards and clerics of Targos had already called down their magic’s upon the defenders, blessing and chanting, as well as summoning a small horde of low-threat monsters (wolves, bears, bookworms, rabid rabbits) to slow down the goblin horde. A mage cast a fireball into the horde, vaporizing eight and burning another 12, as well as throwing 30 either to the ground or through the air. Goblin shamans casted they’re own protections upon the front-liners, making them immune to the rain of arrows that the recruits were bearing down upon them. An enemy battering ram could be seen. A few veterans and some newly formed ranks of soldiers moved to barricade the gate with a giant log, while goblin archers took up their bows and started to pelt the palisade walls with arrows of their own, sometimes scoring hits into the defenders on the walls. Another fireball was cast just as a mage called down lightning, and both struck the same area, throwing electrically charged dirt and burning corpses high into the air. Another mage turned him and several of his compatriots invisible and slowly crept into a small hole to scry out the battle and aid where he could. his invisible compatriots began casting, together, Horrid Wilting, and eventually it was cast just as the battering ram crashed into the great wooden palisade gate doors. Almost 100 goblins died then and there after the main effect of that powerful spell took place. The goblins just rushed in to fill their places, and charged the battering ram again, this time blowing off chips and planks of wood. The recruits on the wall were frantically firing their bows at the foes that lay for them, while a few dropped boiling water and acid on top of the goblins directly in front of the gate. Another crash and the great wooden barricade split. The men un-sheathed their swords and maces and scimitars. Another crash, and the great barricade blew apart and the wooden doors came apart entirely. The whole of the doors crashed in upon the barricade breakers, crushing 10 or 20 goblins before the gap was filled by the charging ranks of goblinoids. "For Targos!" yelled the men in unison as the goblins charged right into the waiting spears and crossbow bolts. The defenders in the back even managed to shoot off another set of bolts before they charged, swords drawn, into the fray. The initial charge of goblins was met in full resistance as almost 40 men from the side charged in and tore through the goblin lines, creating frenzy in battle matched only by the Barbarians of the Tundra. The men on the walls, or at least some, turned their attention toward the inside of the palisade, and rained deathly arrows upon the goblins that were swarming the palisade section. Ten men had been cut down by goblins so far, as compared to the 110 dead goblins that fell at the hands of their weapons. Another catapult fired a regular boulder that crashed into the very edge of enemy ranks, crushing less then 10 and rolling over another 5. The goblins had pushed back the combined veteran force back to the first house, leaving the wall open for taking. Luckily, the recruit reinforcements realized this, and formed a charge of their own and raced for the small gap that was quickly closing to the wall. Men on the top of the wall had drawn swords and spears and done their best to guard the entrance, cutting down the few goblins that climbed the stairs. Kemp, the spokesman of Targos charged in again, cutting down three goblins and then a fourth with a backswing in a small charge. The mages on the wall had released confusion spells into the crowd of goblins waiting to get into the fray, which in turn caused several small battles within goblin ranks. The charging recruits slammed into the thin goblin lines that had just reached the stairs, killing almost 100 in less than 30 seconds. Minsc the spokesman charged, cleaving left and right with his great sword, felling whole groups of goblins with one clean stroke of his 6-foot blade. An arrow whizzed past Minsc’ ear and stuck through the chest of a veteran defender, and he fell dead. Twenty goblins had formed a battle squad, the only real goblin resistance. They all charged at Minsc, firing crossbows and sticking spears out at his face. Minsc batted aside all of the spears with his sword, spun about on a pivoted heel, and sliced off three goblin heads and tore through on of their chests. Eight veterans charged with their swords extended into the goblin battle group, each killing one or two. Minsc cleaved one in half and stuck his blade halfway through another in one fell swoop. The recruit army was doing fairly well against the un-organized goblins. The battle would soon be over. Then a trumpet called out, a powerful trumpet blow that nearly deafened the defenders. A frost giant sprang from its hiding place with the horn. Suddenly the goblins fought with skill and organization. The frenzied horde became a well-greased war machine, tearing through the recruit army and putting up a deft fight with Minsc’s troops.
* * * * *
The leader drew his sword and pointed it into the air. “Draw swords!” 50 men in Plate-mail on horses drew their long swords. “Formation!” Cried the leader. The horseman formed a V formation, with the leader at the tip, their swords extended and pointing forward. “CHARGE!” yelled the giant leader at the top of his lungs. 51 cavalry charged toward the losing battle, and were joined by the war party of Dwarves that had come to Targos’ call of aid just a month earlier.
* * * * *
__________________
Due to cat's embarrasment, this qoute has been removed.
BTW- Not actually Tired Hiker
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Feb 6th, 2004 03:52 AM |
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LarryTheArch
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Minsc swung his giant sword directly through three opposing goblins. A veteran warrior screamed in agony as four goblins hacked him up with their crude, jagged short swords. A goblin leapt onto Minsc’ back and stabbed his arm. Minsc reached behind him and picked the goblin off of his back with one hand, waited for one of his soldiers to slit the pitiful monsters throat, then flung him harmlessly into a party of goblin resistance. Another Goblin charged at the great man, but was hit in the back of the neck with an arrow from the palisade wall. Despite the fact that they were killing Goblins by the masses, the Goblins were gaining ground, and were slowly killing off Minsc’s soldiers one by one, not to mention the fact that his men were tiring rapidly. A wizard appeared near the battle, his hands raised to the sky, chanting the words for a mass Haste spell. A minute later, Minsc and his men were charging with rapid speed, their stamina and skill boosted by the haste spell. Minsc felled eight Goblins with two extremely powerful and rapid swings then spun and sliced open the chest of another goblin. The veteran soldiers formed a charge quickly and broke through a small defensive goblin line and into right into the un-prepared goblin contingent behind it. Still, the goblin numbers were replaced quickly, and a goblin shaman dispelled their haste before extreme damage could be done. A palisade wall recruit fell onto three goblins, eight crossbow bolts sticking from his chest and neck. The goblins formed a large organized war squad and charged into the fatigued troops, cutting them down left and right. 30 of Minsc’s troops died there before reinforcements arrived. The 51 horses leapt into the goblin party, cutting and trampling the left and right. The Dwarven war party slammed into the goblin ranks alongside the adrenaline revitalized defenders, killing Goblins by the hundreds.
* * * * *
Dergath crept up the small tunnel, safe in the knowledge that 30 other goblins were following his lead. Almost 10 leagues away were the hole they had dug into a Targos storehouse, leading into the Targos’ docks. Their plan of action was to slaughter everything living in the docks and make their way through the town and aid their allies in battle against the defenders. Dergath drew his short sword, its jagged rough edges gleaming darkly in the small light provided by the accompanying Goblin Shaman. The sounds of battle could be heard even 15 feet under the ground, though they were rapidly climbing in elevation to the dock storehouse. Finally, the reached the small hole that was covered by a well-placed container. Dergath swung its aside, using his sword as a lever to push it aside. He then re-sheathed his sword, and gave the Goblin scout a boost through the hole. Repeating the process, soon all of them were in the storehouse, though several goblins had to pull up Dergath. “You two…” he pointed at a pair of scouts. “…Come with me. The rest of you wait here. Be silent and don’t get caught!” he chided them. The trio of Goblinoids crept silently through the storehouse. “HEY! What are yo- GOBLINS!” yelled a horrified commoner. He started to run, but was feel to the ground, a thrown dagger stuck in the back of his head. Dergath collected his blade, wiped off the brain matter and blood, and continued through the storehouse. Finally Dergath reached the door, and with the two scouts as back-up, charged out of the storehouse and chopped off the knee-caps of a… adventurer. “You! Get the rest of the war party up here!” cried Dergath as he swung at the adventurer’s companion. The other scout charged out and surprised the other adventurer. Dergath used that opportunity and stabbed the adventurer in the groin. A soldier across the docks heard a scream. “GOBLINS!” he cried. By then the rest of the war party had caught up and formed a defensive posture, using the hundreds of cargo boxes as concealment and cover. Ten docksmen with scimitars charged down upon the goblins, only to be shot with twenty crossbows. One survived and lopped off the head of one Goblin only to be stabbed twice by two other goblins. He fell onto his knees, then lost his head. A goblin cried a war chant, and charged at one unsuspecting soldier and cut through his leather armor, stabbing a kidney and ripping a hole in his stomach, allowing the acids to burn through the other organs.
* * * * *
The recruit leader, Fearn Kindlekeep, charged with the remaining 100 recruits into the thinning goblin ranks, joining the dwarves and cavalry in battle, and cutting them down by the hundreds. But still, they were not on even terms with their enemies. It was still almost 5:12 ratio of defender to attacker, and the growing fatigue wasn’t helping either. The Goblinoid troops lined themselves well, melee users in the front, archers behind. Most of the men on the palisades were dead too, enemy archers and shamans had taken care of them. Fearn cut out a swath of destruction with his Scimitar and Katana combination, stabbing one goblin in the head and blocking an attack with the katana. He swung wildly at a small group of goblins, catching one in the face, tearing most of it off, and getting three others in the stomach. Then Fearn heard another horn call out across the windswept plains. “Ulbrec!”
* * * * *
Lord Genitath Ulbrec blew hard through his horn, his other hand gripped tightly around the hilt of his sheathed two-handed sword. The sound emitted from the horn wasn’t just normal sound, but carried a magical influence, inspiring the allies of the user to new heights. Ulbrec blew again, and his troops lines up behind him, and his two personal bodyguards rushed beside him, swords drawn. Another blast of magical sound emitted from Ulbrec’s horn, sounding the charge, and the front 100 cavalry drew spears and pointed them forwards, all except Ulbrec and his bodyguards. “Ready mounts… Ready spears… Ready lives… CHARGE!” All 203 cavalrymen, including Ulbrec and his personal bodyguards, charged up the steep stone stairs leading from Targos proper to the Palisade area. The climb was quick and easy, even with all their armor weighting down their horses, and soon the entire 203-horse cavalry detachment was ready to charge. Lord Ulbrec dropped his horn to the dirt when he saw the destruction. Fires around the Palisade and barracks’ brimmed, hundreds of corpses, some burning too, lay scattered about, mainly piled up at the gate. Goblins and Targosians battled fiercely, working to secure a flaming hole in the palisade wall that had been caused by a catapult misfire. “Form V formation!” cried Ulbrec loudly to his troops, pausing for his strong voice to take effect on his troops. The detachments formed a V-formation, with Ulbrec at the front, his great sword in his hands, his two body guards placed behind him, their dual scimitars ready. The rest of the V behind them consisted of men using bows and crossbows, and a thin layer of 2 spearmen on the sides of the V. “For our families!,” yelled Ulbrec, raising his sword and twirling it in one hand backwards once, signaling to charge. The charge began and Goblin, Human, Dwarf, Worg, and Horse all looked to the source of the loud thundering. “For Targos!,” the charge yelled in unison. They were now half-way across the battlefield, and almost a score of hiding, running, and attacking goblins had been trampled or stabbed at the end of a spear in the charge. “FOR Tempus!” they yelled at the top of their lungs. The dwarven fighters scattered and regrouped on the sides, and the rest of the defending force quickly moved off to the side to allow for the charge to break in effectively. Two or three men were stabbed while running out of the way, but the organization of Goblin troops quickly fled when they saw the large force thundering towards them. Goblins rushed to and fro, trying to find a way to escape the charge, but their massive numbers had failed them: they were too big of an army. Ulbrec yelled again. “FOR TEN-TOWNS!” The entire force crashed brutally into the goblins, trampling, stabbing, cutting, and shooting the goblins. Like a wave of death, Ulbrec’s Charge (as it would later become known) swept right over almost 200 goblins and rolled out of the palisade and into the 1000 strong army of goblins waiting outside. The defenders left behind charged in behind Ulbrec’s soldiers, cutting down any survivors along the way, and finally moving to the sides of the swath of the v shaped destruction to battle the goblins. Genitath Ulbrec put down his helmets face, and with a great cleaving motion, killed eight goblins. The charge continued, trampling or stabbing all of the goblins in their path. The huge Frost Giant looked in awe, even it had never seen such an effect.
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Due to cat's embarrasment, this qoute has been removed.
BTW- Not actually Tired Hiker
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Feb 6th, 2004 03:53 AM |
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LarryTheArch
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* * * * *
The Frost Giant Ja’lath looked in awe. In less than a minute, a single charge had driven out all of the goblins from the meager palisade defenses and had reduced their army from 1,200 to half that number. “No matter.” He whispered, which was actually a like a normal human talking, except audible all the way across the town. Ja’lath unhooked his giant axe from his back strap, and placed it in a two handed posture. He would deal with the charge himself.
* * * * *
Dergath charged out with the rest of the goblinoid forces, all 30 of them splitting up into groups of 5, cutting down the unsuspecting resistance they were met with. One group, led by a second lieutenant of Dergath, began to raze a boat when a Dwarf charged out of his nearby home, yelling “May Moradin’s Hammer crush ye' all!”. The surprised goblins drew their weapons, and the weaponless dwarf simply charged into one and tackled it. The Dwarf grabbed the Goblin’s head by the temples and twisted sharply to the left. He heard a satisfying crack, and the goblin suddenly stopped resisting the superior dwarf. The Dwarf grabbed the goblins hand axe and blocked an attack by a Goblin, then punched the Goblin in the face. “If me name ain’t Jorun Tamewater I will cut open the lot’a’ya!” Jorun feigned an over-head chop at a goblin, then quickly freed one hand from his newly found axe and punched the Goblin again, this time feeling its nose break and jaw collapse under the intensely powerful punch. The goblin fell to the snow covered ground, clutching his deformed face and feeling the hot warmth of its greenish blood flowing down its cheeks. The dwarf turned to face the slowly backing away Goblins. Jorun bent down and picked up the axe of his last “kill”. The goblins visibly trembled with fear, and even more when Jorun charged at them, and flung one of the axes at the goblins. The axe found home inside the skull of one Goblin, just as Jorun brought up his axe from the dirt and into another goblins groin. As one goblin dropped dead, the other howled in extreme pain. Jorun removed the axe and lopped off its head with one quick motion, then threw the axe into the back of the last fleeing goblin. It dropped with a squeal. Jorun looked around, blood stained the snow, and five goblin corpses lay around the boats. Jorun turned his head sharply to the right, just in time to see another five goblins pass by. The dwarf ran, as well as its stubby legs could anyway, to his home and grabbed the horn that every citizen of Targos held one of. The horn of alarm. He rushed out, and on reflex felled a lone goblin hanging around the side of his small wooden home. He pursed his lips and put the horn to his mouth, and blew. He heard the sounds of commotion as he walked back to his hand crafted boat. He looked to his boat and to the corpses before him, then back at the boat. “That’ll teach ye’ ta’ mess wit’me boats, goblin scum!”
* * * * *
Somewhere on the Wicked Wench, The crew of the just moored ship heard the call to arms. “Goblins on the docks!” shouted a guard, who rushed up to meet three adventurers. “And who might you be?” he asked incredulously. The three companions looked the soldier up and down. “Err… why is a Drow in your… party?” he said. The tall slender beautifal ebony skinned Drow sighed heavily. She was tired of the constant badgering because of her race. “Waelish rothe ibblith.” The Ghostwise halfling beside her smiled. Khatlaa had taught him some of the Drow language. It meant foolish Brahmin crap, loosely translated. The soldier took a second look at the beautifal and enticing Drow woman standing before him. She wore blue robes emblanized with the sigil of Selune, The goddess of beauty. The flattering and loose robes were draped on Khatlaa, her white hair hanging behind her head. The Priestess of Selune slightly enjoyed he ogling, but soon returned her attention to the matters at hand. The halfling rogue beside her grinned at the previous insult, showing a row of clean and straight teeth. Two gray daggers hung from the halflings belt, and a glowing ring was placed on his right hand. He was wearing studded leather armor, though there was no way of telling if it had magical properties or not. Beside him, a tall, strong human with a sheathed great sword glared at the soldier. “Easy there Drathlen.” Said the halfling noticing the Fallen Paladin’s glare. “Same goes for you Milar!” accused the tall Drow. “Enough of this charade Drow! We have no time to chatter, the docks are under attack and we need all the help we can get!” stated the soldier calmly. “Don’t talk to her like that… ever.” Said Drathlen with a cold and attacking voice. The soldier looked Drathlen up and down, taking note of the glowing half-plate armor he was wearing as well as the powerful muscled arms that could just as easily wield that gigantic great sword hanging from his belt. A well-groomed head of hair sat upon him, and a slightly graying edge to the hair gave him a distinguished look. “Very well,” He conceded. “But you are still needed at the docks. Come with me, and I will lead you to the battle.” Khatlaa was obviously the prettiest and smartest of the group, and therefor the leader. She looked from the soldier to the captain of the Wicked Wench. “Go ahead. I’m stayin’ fer a while at lord Ulbrec’s request. So you can pay me later… besides, we were glad ta huv had yer company on the long voyage anyways.” The captain smiled at Khatlaa, with more than a little lust in eyes. It quickly vanished though, at the news of the attack on the docks. Khatlaa nodded in agreement, then returned her stare to the soldier. “Lead on.” From within her robes, Khatlaa pulled out s medium shield and a mace with several runes etched into its head. The halfling puled out both daggers, and the uttered a command word. “Fie!” the halfling cried with a magical echo. The twin daggers glowed to life, and one sprouted in green fire, and suddenly the halfling was nothing more than a blurred figure. The giant of a man Drathlen grasped the hilt of his great sword and unsheathed it. The great blade’s runes glowed red with magic, and the tip of the blade erupted into acid. Khatlaa called upon her deity, granting a blessing upon her and her companions. Blue energy swished from nowhere and enveloped them all; the blessing was complete. The rushed off the docks and with the soldier and into the fray.
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__________________
Due to cat's embarrasment, this qoute has been removed.
BTW- Not actually Tired Hiker
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Feb 6th, 2004 03:54 AM |
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LarryTheArch
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Ulbrec realized the Giant’s intentions before it had even unhooked his axe. He couldn’t stop the charge in time. An arrow whizzed past his head and thudded into the head of one of his bodyguard’s horses. Ulbrec reached over and grabbed the bodyguard by the neck just as the horse fell and was trampled over by a line of speeding horses. “Thanks.” He muttered as Ulbrec placed him on his own horse. The archers in the charge had started to only concentrate their attacks on the giant, who only shrugged of the waves of arrows as if they were nothing more than pebbles striking stone. “Me beat you good!” the giant shouted at the charging band. Every goblin had gotten out of the way between the charge and Ja’lath as quickly as possible, though many were still trampled or cut down by the passing charge. The great giant smiled, showing two rows of crooked and unclean teeth, just as he swung his great axe in a giant arc, slicing and sweeping out the very front lines of the charge. Luckily, Ulbrec and a few of the front linesman survived. Almost 70 spears and arrows and bolts came out of the chare at once and thudded and buried themselves into the monsters kneecap and chest. The charge drew their swords, caught up to Ulbrec, and charged into Ja’lath, cutting and jabbing at his giant feet and kneecaps. The giant sliced downwards at one man, slicing him cleanly in half as well as throwing up a dust cloud, blinding several other soldiers. The giant roared loudly as Ulbrec sliced into the bone of the giants shin, and as repayment, picked up two horses and held them high, dropping the people who were riding them, and then threw them in a dunking motion into the crowding cavalry. Ulbrec stabbed and thrust into his kneecap, or rather the back of it, and his long sword poked through to the other side. The giant roared again, and clutched at the painful wound tightly. In response, he picked up his axe and slammed it into the cliff face hard, splitting the rock apart for it to fall onto the heads of his foes. “DIE!” the Frost Giant shouted loudly. A wizard back the Palisade cast his final spell before being hit in the head with a Goblin arrow.
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Magic coursed through the air. Somewhere in the plane of fire, a plane where it is only fire constantly and continuously, a place where all the creatures of fire live. A firestorm of meteors appeared, shooting giant fireballs of death to and fro. And a portal appeared, a portal to a place called Icewind Dale, on one of the Prime Material planes. The sky above Targos darkened considerably with thick clouds. One part in the clouds reddened and swirled and separated, where the portal opened. The portal danced with flame, a strange sight to see in the sky. And then the first fireball flew through the portal.
* * * * *
Everyone stopped there fighting for a few seconds in order to grasp the sight before them. A fireball slammed into the Goblinoid ranks, blowing in a violent explosion that vaporized a score of goblins, burned two score more, and sent almost 50 goblins flying through the air. And suddenly it was raining fireballs. The magic of the spell prevented allies from being hurt by the fireballs, but the goblins were a different story. One smashed into the side of the cliff face, blowing out giant chunks of rock that slammed into goblins and the few defenders that were in the way. The rocks weren’t part of the spell, so anyone hit by them would be crushed. The boulders rolled down the slight slope of the battlefield and crushed everything in its path until blown apart by another fireball. The fighting resumed in a few places, but most just stood helplessly and looked on in awe at the awesome destruction. Ulbrec took advantage again and sliced out the Giant hamstring and cut out some of his muscle in great swoop of his sword. The giant roared, fell to his knees in surprise and agony, turned to the side, and picked up Ulbrec by the neck. Ja’lath took his axe in one hand and swept sideways in a 180 arc at his foes, catching many of them by surprise and flinging them helplessly or cutting them in half. Ulbrec kept his sword, and chopped upwards, digging the blade harmlessly into the base of the monsters great palm. The giant didn’t even get phased. Ulbrec pulled the blade out, dark red blood trickling down it and dripping from the light wound down to below. Ulbrec was pulled to the giant’s head height just as Ulbrec sheathed his weapon and pulled out two daggers, and flung them the giant’s eyes. In the great movement of it all, Ulbrec’s aim was slightly off, and one of the blades only slightly skinned the side of his head and the other buried itself in the right nostril, which blew to the ground harmlessly with on great exhale through the nose.
Another fireball slammed into the ground near them throwing up dirt and garbage and corpses into the air. “You die now manling.” The giant said calmly. The giant raised its other fist and held Ulbrec out. One punch would kill him, and even if the awesome strength didn’t crush every bone in his body, the gauntlets he was wearing would.
* * * * *
Ja’lath was pleased with himself. He had cut down almost 100 of the horseman and was about to pummel their leader to death. The giant raised its fist and held Ulbrec as far outward as possible. He started to throw his fist forward. And then he knew no more.
* * * * *
One of the giant fireballs crashed into the giants face, crushing it and blowing it apart, and then gliding through it to hit the ground directly behind and under him. The size of fireball was enough to cause a small shockwave. The explosion was gigantic, rock fell from the rock-face, ground was thrown up incredibly high, and a firewall passed harmlessly through the Targosians. The explosion was deafening, and the shockwave threw everything and everyone that could be thrown into the air. Ulbrec flew and smashed into the ground almost 100 paces away from where he was earlier, and nearly died from it. Hundreds of corpses, horseman, and live goblins smashed into the cliff face or into the ground at every distance and direction, often hitting and crushing the people below. The firestorm had long since ended with the last gigantic fireball crashing into the dirt.
Minsc and Fearn approached Ulbrec shortly after.
__________________
Due to cat's embarrasment, this qoute has been removed.
BTW- Not actually Tired Hiker
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Feb 6th, 2004 03:55 AM |
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LarryTheArch
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The goblin forces had been diminished by the now organized soldiers, as few as they were, on the docks. Dergath had called for reinforcements, but upon seeing the firestorm, knew that the shaman would create the only reinforcements they would receive. “Summon allies!” yelled Dergath to the shaman. “Your will be done Dergath.” The shaman started chanting and raising his hands, and a ball of energy formed before him. Some after, the ball exploded a few feet away from the group of goblins, and in its place were a few worgs and several wolves. Dergath and his lieutenant mounted the only two worgs, and the wolves rushed off to do their hunting. A scream erupted from somewhere behind the Salty Dog Tavern, and then another near the harbormaster’s hideout. Dergath smiled wickedly at the sounds of conflict, knowing that the wolves continually surprised their enemies with their stealth. “Shaman! How many of us are left?” he asked accusingly. The Shaman mouthed several spell words and threw glittering dust into the air. “Three of the six groups, including ours, the one led by Gerundial, and the one led by your third lieutenant. A few stragglers are terrorizing citizens of Targos in their homes. If we go directly south, we will meet up with Gerundial’s group.” Dergath nodded solemnly, since they needed desperately to combine forces. The five goblins raced down the street with abandon. Gerundial’s force was occupied with two soldiers apparently, and a dead goblin and two dead soldiers already lay on their small battlefield. Dergath didn’t notice the four shadows splayed across the wall of the Salty Dog. A great sword swung in Dergath’s path, but with his reflexes, he ducked under the blade as the worg passed him under its deadly arc. The shaman wasn’t as lucky. It caught the blade in the head, slicing its head in half as well as knocking it of its steed. The other three goblins drew their axes and short swords in defense. The Great sword suddenly swished and became a prime chopping weapon, which cleaved the masterless worg in half, letting free a rush of blood and organs onto the ground in a puddle, being slowly burned away with the acid from the weapon. A tall slender female drow stepped out in front of the three cowering goblins. They gawked for a second at her instead of raising their weapons, and it cost one of them their lives. Khatlaa slammed her mace into a goblin skull in an overhead swing, felling the beast. A halfling leapt from the roof of the salty dog and onto the shoulders of one goblin, the dual daggers finding a place to rest in the goblins shoulder blades and neck. It gurgled in pain as blood oozed out of its mouth and green fire burned away at the goblin's neck. Soon it was nothing but another goblin corpse. The halfling parried the following attack from the surviving Goblin, then feigned a thrust. Foolishly, the goblin moved its jagged and rough short sword to block. The halflings arms became a blur as Milar put eight gashes into the goblins undefended face, blood splattering on the walls and Milar’s face. Gerundial’s group had felled the two soldiers, but had lost another of their own. Dergath skidded his steed and turned it around quickly… and ducked under the swing of Drathlen’s great sword again. Gerundial’s men quickly turned their attention to their leader and charged into battle fearlessly. Drathlen blocked a weak swing from the surprised Dergath, then counter-attacked with a heavy blow. The surprisingly strong and stout Dergath successfully blocked the blow, but it shattered his defending short sword. Dergath quickly reached behind him with both hands and whipped out two hand axes, and begun a dance of death with them. Drathlen was hard-pressed to hold back the rapid swings and chops of both axes. Khatlaa began to chant, calling upon the divine to aid her. Selune answered her call, and a bolt of energy slammed into Dergath. It did not phase it did nothing to hurt him, but suddenly his attacks slowed considerably, forceful, but slow. And then Dergath himself slowed. Drathlen took advantage of the slowed Dergath, slicing at the large goblins head; Dergath could not block it in time. But luckily for Dergath, the Gerundial and his two goblin friends had made caught up to Dergath, and one goblin swung an axe in the way of Drathlen’s slice, blocking it. The acid from the tip of Drathlen’s sword flung into Dergath’s face painfully, and the worg backed off a few steps.
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A wolf crept up silently in an alley, approaching the sounds of battle with every step. Its bloodied teeth formed a hyena like smile, and the frenzy it was in would be dangerous to anyone. It silently rounded a corner then broke into a run, ready to leap onto the back of a tall slender woman. It never noticed the dual shining daggers in the shadows.
* * * * *
Khatlaa swung her enchanted mace in an angled arc, smashing it into the waiting parrying short sword of a goblin. The sword was pushed lower, and the mace suddenly reversed course and slammed into the goblin’s face painfully, smashing the nose and putting a dent into its jawbone. It staggered back and slumped against the wall. Dergath’s slowness wore off, but not before Drathlen had brutally cut down one goblin. Dergath set the Worg to leap at Drathlen. The worg sped toward Drathlen, leapt at him, and then Dergath jumped off his steed just a Drathlen cleaved the beast in two. Dergath used that to his advantage, and manage to get in a clean stab at a weak spot between the breastplates. Drathlen winced in pain, shrugged it off, then with a clean stroke, lopped off Dergath's head, the momentum of the swing carried it through and into Gerundial’s side. Dergath fell down, his head spinning through their air, and Gerundial slumped into the blade, dead. Drathlen pushed off Gerundial’s lifeless body and several organs fell out and were promptly crushed by the goblin's body. The other goblin broke into a run, away from the group. It ran straight into a waiting axe made by its own kind. It squealed as the axe-head chopped through the meager arms it put in front of its face as a defense. It stopped its scream abruptly as the axe entered its skull and into the brain stem. “Bloody Goblins!” came a voice issued from a dwarf. “And you are?” Asked Drathlen. The dwarf looked up at the huge man, and a scowl splayed itself on his face as soon as his eyes met the Drow’s. “What ina’ Nine Hells is a Drow doin’ here!?” he said, ignoring the previous question. “Saving Targos wael!” yelled Khatlaa. Drathlen repeated his question. “What is your name Dwarf?” he asked again, this time brandishing his weapon menacingly. The Dwarf considered for a moment, then answered. “Jorun. Jorun Tamewater.” Khatlaa noticed that their halfling friend wasn’t offering input. “Where is Milar?” asked Khatlaa, suddenly worrying for her companion. “Right here!” Milar answered for her. Khatlaa and Drathlen turned to see him pull out a dagger with a gushing sound from a wolf’s neck. Then a trumpet sounded.
* * * * *
The fighting continued, the unaffected goblins and defenders battling each other, though it was painfully obvious that the goblins would soon be crushed. The goblins were disorganized, frightened and fatigued, and the now outnumbering defenders would soon dispatch their mortal enemies. The battle raged on for a few minutes, until one large contingent of goblins, almost 90, was crushed by a wizard’s fireball, and then the rest of what remained the goblin horde fled the battlefield, pursued by the victorious defenders. The goblin horde had been reduced from 1500 to 100, a staggering loss, while the defenders had lost only 300 out of 700 defenders. Cheering swept through the ranks of soldiers and the townspeople. “Victory!” shouted all the troops in unison. Lord Ulbrec stood up shakily and wiped himself off. “Hello Fearn. And Minsc.” He said plainly. The ranger, Minsc, wiped a smudge of dirt from his face and sheathed his great sword, while Fearn put away his long sword. “Lord Ulbrec!” Fearn fell to one knee, head bowed. “No need for that.” Ulbrec said evenly. Fearn looked up confused then replaced the look with action, standing up saluting Ulbrec. Minsc smiled at the young recruit. He was inexperienced, yes, but his ability in combat had been proven fully, and his ability to lead proven even more so. “You have done well spokesman.” Minsc said to Ulbrec. Ulbrec nodded as a steed was brought to him. He could hear the goblin frantic retreat and the surviving cavalry chasing them down. Minsc and Fearn were brought aid in the form of a cleric, a Watcher of Helm. “Greetings lord Ulbrec, Minsc the ranger, and Fearn the warrior.” The cleric had made up the titles on the spot, except for Ulbrec’s, and Minsc disapproved, but Fearn was beaming with confidence. “You need aid?” asked the Cleric. Minsc pointed to the many cuts and bruises on Ulbrec, as well that large gash in Fearn’s forehead, avoiding presenting his broken arm. “Very well.” The cleric began a chant, and soon the superficial wounds had been healed. The cleric walked off to join his brethren in healing the rest of the injured people. Ulbrec and Fearn mounted their war-horses, but Minsc hesitated slightly before getting up onto the horse. “The city needs attention. The docks were attacked and there are a few mercenaries than must be commended for their aid.” Fearn said. Minsc rolled his eyes, thinking that Fearn was just sucking up. Ulbrec nodded solemnly. How many innocent lives had been lost today?
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Due to cat's embarrasment, this qoute has been removed.
BTW- Not actually Tired Hiker
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Feb 6th, 2004 03:55 AM |
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LarryTheArch
Restricted
Gender: Male
Location: on Uranus Account Restricted |
Chapter 2: Loyalties
Khatlaa made her way down the dark passageway, a magical light leading the way. Her halfling companion was hiding in the shadows behind them, and Drathlen was behind Khatlaa, poised to strike. Supposedly, a small group of goblins had escaped the battle on the surface and made their way into the tunnels, collapsing one end and making their way to the other. Khatlaa and her two friends were searching for a good ambush area. Eventually, they came into a fairly wide area with several tall rock outcropping and stalagmites and stalactites creating concealment in many places; they had found their ambush.
Khatlaa pointed silently to the large rock jutting up from the ground, and a small shape made its way behind it, wielding a crossbow. Drathlen sheathed his great sword for a long bow, and after fitting it with an arrow, made his way to a good spot behind several shorter rocks. Khatlaa levitated herself up and up and up high above the ground and grasped a sideways stalagmite. They waited in ambush.
* * * * *
Loreeg Grantag made his way up the sloping tunnel. His infravision provided excellent vision, and even though he was at the end of the long column, he was happy to escape he battle from above. The group came into a wide room with many rocks and concealment. The perfect place for an ambush. Loreeg looked around, and seeing no ambushers, felt safer. Then an arrow whizzed past his head and buried itself in the chest of a friend only two feet away. Then a bolt exploded somewhere in the front of the column, taking out almost a third of the goblinoid troops. Two goblins screamed, their skin burned off, then they died. Another arrow hit another goblin in the neck, forcing it to drown in its own blood.
Then several goblins lit up with white fire on their skins, and though they had not the wit to realize it was harmless, they panicked foolishly and ran about the cave, to be slain by the daggers of a halfling or the great sword of a human. Loreeg drew its sword, eyes alert, darting about the place. And then a Drow fell upon three goblins behind Loreeg. The noise forced Loreeg to reflexively spin, only to get slammed across the room by a mace.
* * * * *
Khatlaa Smashed in the skull of a goblin opponent as Milar slashed and thrusted into the heads and chests and stomachs and backs of goblins. Drathlen lopped off one goblins head and then split open another, following through with a spin that killed two more goblins. Milar ducked under the swoop of one attack, then slapped aside the goblin-made blade with his fiery dagger and stabbed through the goblins face, tearing through tissue and jawbone and down into the mouth. A goblin charged at the halfling, only to hit in the face by Khatlaa’s mace. The halfling rolled in her direction to aid in her defense. Drathlen swung wildly at a goblin who jumped back, but the tip of the acidic blade still sliced through goblin skin, or at least one layer of it. The acid burned through the other layers of skin, and suddenly, blood poured out of the open stomach wound and the goblin fell to its knees as its stomach hung out. Drathlen spun his blade twice in the air and then in one fell swoop, lopped off the cowardly creature’s head. Khatlaa and Milar both battled fiercely, smashing, cutting, and killing goblins left and right. Eventually, they were all dead. “Search the bodies for gold.” Khatlaa ordered. Drathlen and Milar complied, searching the bodies collecting several gold pieces from each. Milar found a scroll, a magical one that had burned out, on the lead goblin, and put it in a small scroll case and put in his pack. “What was that?” Khatlaa asked him under her breath. “A scroll, burned parchment, nothing more.” Milar said in his customary good-natured greed. Drathlen stooped over a collected a magical dagger from one of the goblins, as well as placing some coins in his personal pouch that was hanging from his neck on a long, thin chain. Khatlaa looked at Milar questioningly, who gave a “later.” Look to her. Khatlaa nodded slowly then returned to scavenging the bodies. Khatlaa turned around and was surprised to see a tall man in full plate mail in front of her. Surprised that no one heard the tall man in the armor come down the tunnels, she stammered out a question. “H-how did you- who are you?” “I am Lord Ulbrec, spokesman of Targos.” Said Lord Ulbrec. “I know you.” Said Drathlen coldly. “And I know of you forsaken paladin. But the… Drow and the halfling I don’t.” he replied, equaling the cold voice. Drathlen considered killing the spokesman then and there, but reconsidered, realizing how important the spokesmen was to the city of Targos and to his continued health. Khatlaa spoke up. “I am Khatlaa, and my halfling friend is Milar.” Khatlaa smiled warmly, and Ulbrec understood her nature for good. The halfling trotted up and handed Ulbrec the scroll he had “acquired” earlier from the goblinoid corpse. “What is this that you hand me… Milar?” Ulbrec asked boldly. “A scroll I found on a goblin. I think it’s magical, but it looks like burns and chars, and dirt have removed the key elements of it.” Ulbrec nodded at Milar’s reply. “Hmm… perhaps my wife can shed some light on its function.” Khatlaa knew of Ulbrec’s wife. A wise and beautifal enchantress that has studied her craft for over two centuries, though Khatlaa had trouble placing her name with her face. “Well… what did you want?” asked Drathlen. “I wanted to thank you for your aid in the docks. By the account of several soldiers, you and your friends felled two whole groups of goblins. Good job.” Ulbrec tossed a pack through the air towards the female Drow. Khatlaa opened it happily, sifting through the gold coins and gems to take out a magical mace. “What does it do?” she asked bluntly. “The mace of Arrakis, the plane of sand. It has a special magic that protects you from effects of time, hence, the ‘sands of time’ reference on the hilt.” Ulbrec pointed to the otherworldly runes on the base of the hilt. To an inexperienced reader, it would be hard to decipher, but Drow are trained in that sort of thing, so reading the runes came naturally to Khatlaa. “Supposedly, mages will not be able to stop time, for you anyway, and you can’t be affected by magical slowing, poison, or death spells either. Not to mention that a command word it’ll bring forth stone from the ground to envelop the wielder.” Khatlaa smiled at the powerful gift. “Uh…. Thank you kindly abbil, you certainly are no wael.” Ulbrec knew the words friend and fool of the Drow language, a passing sage had taught him some of the language when he was seven. A small amount of change fell out with the shifting that Khatlaa was doing. Milar moved to collect it, but Khatlaa got to it first.
* * * * *
Lord Ulbrec gawked at the strangeness of it all. A drow, a good drow, on the surface openly, a fallen paladin, and a Ghostwise halfling, all travelling together. Ulbrec knew of Drathlen, the fallen paladin from an Iltemarian order. Apparently, he disagreed with judgement passed on a “criminal”, freed the criminal, and then killed an Iltermarian. “Well now. The warriors in that defended the city are to receive medals tomorrow. Until then, you can stay at the Weeping Widow Inn.” Ulbrec explained. “Thank you Lord Ulbrec!” Khatlaa said quickly, glad to have a place to stay for the nights to come. Ulbrec nodded sharply, and without another word, stormed out of the tunnels and out of the docks. Khatlaa, Drathlen, and Milar all followed him, at least out of the tunnels. Lord Ulbrec had mixed feelings as he parted ways with the trio.
* * * * *
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Due to cat's embarrasment, this qoute has been removed.
BTW- Not actually Tired Hiker
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Feb 6th, 2004 03:57 AM |
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REXXXX
Networking
 Gender: Male
Location: San Diego Moderator |
Wow! It's long! 
Very cool, LTA. 
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Feb 6th, 2004 05:11 AM |
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LarryTheArch
Restricted
Gender: Male
Location: on Uranus Account Restricted |
on odcument it is apparently uhhh.... 20 pages exdactly
it took three days for 15 pages, and i addedthe last 3 sparractically over another day. mores acumin
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Due to cat's embarrasment, this qoute has been removed.
BTW- Not actually Tired Hiker
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Feb 8th, 2004 05:34 AM |
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LarryTheArch
Restricted
Gender: Male
Location: on Uranus Account Restricted |
soon... got nearly three chapters done !
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Due to cat's embarrasment, this qoute has been removed.
BTW- Not actually Tired Hiker
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Apr 21st, 2004 05:30 PM |
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LarryTheArch
Restricted
Gender: Male
Location: on Uranus Account Restricted |
* * * * *
Everyone has their enemies...
Kiser Jerhai walked down the narrow winding path that lead from Kelvin's Cairn down to the lower snow paths hat lead to Targos. He, as a waizrd, had mroe than enoguh intelligence to outwit to foolish and moronic orcs following him. Sometimes to trio of Verbeeg rpesented a problem in containment, but usually bribes or threats or... examples of goblin fodder proved enough. His force had been ordered to reinforce the main army attacking Targos, thoguh they were not informed of how late they were in helping them. "Fools..." Kiser muttered softly, thinking of the unsuspecting town. A Targos scout slipped past the main group and back towards Targos.
* * * * *
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Due to cat's embarrasment, this qoute has been removed.
BTW- Not actually Tired Hiker
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Apr 25th, 2004 11:33 AM |
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Trickster
True KMC Jester
 Gender: Male
Location: United Kingdom |
This s a good story!
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"If clowns warred on monkeys, and the monkeys had guns, and were trained to use them, who would win?"
Death only gives another set of choices.
He who dies with the most toys. Still dies.
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Jul 25th, 2004 09:53 PM |
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joelsef
all u people are vampires
Gender: Male
Location: Trapped |
Looks really good!
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Just pretend the camera is a wand!
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Jul 25th, 2004 10:39 PM |
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