Rahvin

Thanks for pointing those out, Akroma. That's what I get for posting without propper proofreading...

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Akroma

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A story that's having a go at being epic fantasy...but with the modern world, vampires and werewolves mixed into the cocktail as well...

Rahvin

Well, I had to get off the computer pretty sharpish, so I only just had time to finish writing it, never mind proofread it.

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Justin Millett

Im really enthralled by this story. one of the things that i really liked was the fact that you doing a vampire/slayer story and giving perception from both sides of the battle! it was GREAT read so far and i cant wait to see more! GOOOOOOOOOD JOB

Cefor

Well that was a great addition to the story. Good to read something excellent when you come back from a trip (in this case London).

So, keep it up!

Cefor

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Knowledge is Power

Veni, Vedi, Vici - Julius Caesar

Who Dares Wins

Rahvin

Part 5



A sinuous line of green snaked through the widening mountain passes, flowing around obstructions like water. A low, burbling cacophony of noise echoed upwards from it, shrouding it in countless babbling voices.

Gorthek glanced at the distant line, and turned from his vantage point at the crest of the trail. He looked back to where Korgan’s Rangers were following him. “Grobi up ahead,” he called down, “looks like about tenscore from here.”

The lead Ranger, a grizzled veteran by the name of Grim Harrson, nodded sharply, and gestured to the other Rangers. They turned, and jogged back down the trail, disappearing from view around a boulder. Grim trudged up to Gorthek. “Goblins, you say? I suppose it was too much to hope for a clear journey .How far away are they?”

Gorthek glanced back. “See for yourself. I’d say about half a mile.”

Grim nodded. “Half a mile looks about right to me. At their pace, they’ll reach this pass in about twenty minutes.”

“What do you reckon, kill them?” asked Gorthek.

“Aye,” replied Grim. “Korgan should be here in a few minutes, then we can make a proper plan.”

Gorthek snorted. “We’ve got forty warriors. There’s not much room for elaborate plans there.”

“There’s enough. Besides, they’re only Grobi.”

“Even Goblins can kill when there’s two hundred of them,” came a voice from behind them.

Gorthek turned. Korgan was standing in the center of the trail, his rune-hammer slung over his shoulder. The Thane had donned sturdy armour for the journey, thick leathers under a mail jerkin. Too much armour would be too restrictive for mountaineering. Korgan’s grumbling about having to leave his prized suit of gromril armour behind was one of the reasons that Gorthek had gone on ahead.

“Four of them to every one of us, Korgan. Not really in their favour, is it?” said Gorthek.

Korgan grunted. “That’s no reason to go behaving recklessly, though, is it? Leave that to the manlings. Look what happened to them – all over the place now, wars everywhere, half of them turned to Chaos. It’s all because they don’t take enough time over things.”

Grim pointed to the approaching Goblins with his crossbow. “It doesn’t look like they’re going to give us much time though, Thane, so a little haste might not go amiss.”

Korgan nodded. “Aye.” He looked left, across the side of the mountain. “Grim, do you think you and your Rangers could climb across there? You’d have a perfect vantage point, and they wouldn’t be able to get you easily.”

Grim looked at the small, broken ridge thoughtfully. “I think we might be able to. It’s a little thin, so we’d be single file, double at most, but we have rope and gear, so we’d be able to get down the face if we needed.”

“Good,” nodded Korgan. “The warriors and I will be forming up just down this rise, with the quarrellers on the top. They’ll have a clear field of fire over our heads, and we’ll have a height advantage. Plus, we won’t be able to be surrounded, with these mountains around us.”

“What about me?” asked Gorthek.

“You aren’t part of this force, Gorthek, not officially, so I can’t order you. I’d like you to guard the quarrellers, though. We won’t be able to protect them once we’re engaged from the front, and I’m not completely discounting the chance that these Grobi could get around us. It’s not likely, but I’ll not be the Thane to lose his force because of an oversight.”

Gorthek hefted his axe. “I see your logic, but I would be much more useful of the front line. Send some of your warriors to guard the quarrellers.” And let me find a proper death, he almost added.

Korgan shook his head. “No. I don’t know you, and I don’t know how you fight. You’re unpredictable, Slayer, and against this many Goblins, I need Dwarves I can depend on beside me.”

Gorthek sighed. There would be no arguing with Korgan. Gorthek had encountered Dwarves like him before, and knew that the Thane would sooner die than change his mind once he had decided on something. “Fine, Thane. I’ll hold the rear.”

Korgan nodded. “Good. The rest will be here any minute. Get to your positions. Grim, when the Goblins reach us, I want your Rangers to take out targets of opportunity. Leaders and the like, you know the drill. Keep them moving towards us.”

“Hammer and anvil,” said Grim approvingly. “We’ll drive them on, Thane, don’t worry.”

The warriors appeared behind the three amongst a clattering rustle of armour and heavy footfalls. They were equipped with sturdy shields and broad hand axes, and all of them wore heavy armour that shone in the weak mountain sunlight. Their progress up the mountains had been slow, weighed down as they were with their armour and weapons, but there was still almost a month to go until the appointed time for Gorthek’s duel with the vampire.

Behind them marched the quarrellers, steel crossbows held in two-handed grips across their chests, heavy leathers creaking softly as they moved. A good crossbow couldn’t be beaten. Gorthek had been a quarreller before he had taken the Slayer Oath, and he still felt a connection with them.

Still, he had his axe now. That was all he needed. The rune-engraved greataxe was centuries old, forged at the hands of one of the greatest Runelords of Kazad Vulkhrund. It held dire runes of power, and its blade remained razor sharp even now.

Abruptly, he realised that the warriors were past him, forming up into a block, ten wide, touching each of the steep sides of the trail. The quarrellers were just in front of him, testing their views and sights, and placing the first bolts in their weapons.

Gorthek grunted, and walked up the slope, standing behind the quarrellers. He had a clear view of the area, and he could see the first touches of green around the twisting trail as the Goblins approached. A few moments more, and the swarming mass of greenskins had filled the trail, rushing madly up at the Dwarves as though they had always known of their presence.

Gorthek raised a hand to shade his eyes, and he could just make out the leader of the Goblins. It was a shaman, clad in bones and furs, and holding a gnarled staff topped with a Goblin skull. That any race could so willingly exploit their own dead was repulsive to him, and the Slayer shuddered as arcs of crackling green energy began to flare around the head of the staff.

He tapped the closest quarreller on the shoulder, and the Dwarf turned. “See that Shaman?” Gorthek asked, pointing down into the horde.

The quarreller nodded. “Aye, there in the center. You want us to shoot him, right?”

Gorthek shook his head. “Grim and his Rangers can handle that. Look just behind the Shaman.”

The quarreller squinted forwards, then spat. “Fanatics. Where did they come from? They only usually come with the Night Goblins.”

“I don’t care where they came from,” said Gorthek. “Just make sure you get them. Korgan and the warriors can deal with the other Goblins, but those fanatics will make a real mess of the shieldwall.”

The quarreller nodded, and turned to pass the word on. Gorthek looked back at the Goblins. They had finally entered the range of Grim’s Rangers, and the sharp snap of crossbows echoed across the pass. Bright flashed streaked into the Goblins, most falling short of the Shaman. Ranging shots, Gorthek knew, although the Goblins seemed to take heart at the Dwarves’ misses, and surged forwards.

The next volley was more accurate, and Gorthek saw a dozen Goblins around the Shaman fall to the floor, their screams lost under the shouts and cires of the other Goblins. Undeterred, the horde rushed on, trampling the bodies of their fallen in their rush to reach the Dwarves. Goblins aren’t usually this crazed, thought Gorthek. But what’s driving them?

The Rangers got one last volley off, eight separate quarrels piercing the Shaman and throwing it backwards under the feet of the other Goblins. It was quickly lost to view, but the horde didn’t even falter in its charge. Something is wrong… Those Goblins should be fleeing at the loss of their leader.

And then the Goblins reached the shieldwall, throwing themselves into it with a clattering smash. Their dirty weapons hacked downwards in a ragged series of uneven blows, but each strike was blocked by the Dwarves’ shields. The warriors gave a step back, and then pushed forwards, their axes striking out at the Goblins. The greenskins fell backwards with a screech, and the Dwarves moved forwards again, shields raised.

The air around Gorthek was filled with the sharp snap of crossbows firing, and he realised that the Fanatics had come in range of the quarrellers. Twenty bolts lashed out at the Goblins, whipping down to plunge into a half-dozen black-robed Goblins. The Grobi fell, their massive ball-and-chain weapons lying forgotten on the floor.

Gorthek smiled grimly. A couple more volleys like that, and the Fanatics would be gone. Then the quarrellers would be free to concentrate of the other Goblins.

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Rahvin

Part 6




The shieldwall was bending backwards under the Goblins’ relentless assault. The Dwarves cut down the greenskins at every opportunity, but the tide never seemed to end. The rear rank of the warriors was almost to the quarrellers.

Crossbow bolts knifed over the warriors and into the midst of the Goblins. There were so many greenskins that aiming was redundant; no matter where the bolts fell they would hit something. The quarrellers fired as fast as they could, one rank firing while another reloaded, keeping up a constant hail of steel bolts.

There were far more than two hundred. That many at least lay dead on the ground, trampled beneath the crushing weight of the Goblin advance. Dark blood ran thick down the slope of the trail, littered with gore and viscera. Here and there, a Dwarf lay, overcome by the smothering numbers, already stripped of his equipment by the scavenging Goblins.

Gorthek hefted his axe. He couldn’t just stand at the back and watch the warriors die. Bellowing a war cry, the Slayer charged down the hill, barrelling through the rear ranks of warriors, Dwarves that had been rotated out of combat for a moment. He lifted his axe high, pushing past a grey-bearded warrior, and smashed it down into a Goblin, almost beheading the creature as the runic blade sliced through skin and bone like paper.

He wrenched his axe free, and batted away a pair of greenskins that had sought to take advantage of his distraction. The sun shone from the blade of his axe as it arced around to carve through the chests of the two Goblins, flinging them roughly backwards into the press. Gorthek ducked low, avoiding a slash for his head, and whipped his axe upwards into his newest attacker. The blade sliced into the Goblin’s guts, and putrid filth sprayed from the mortal wound, coating Gorthek’s arm.

The Slayer grimaced, and smashed another Goblin from its feet with a backhanded blow. He dodged right, and found himself standing next to Korgan. The Thane was laying about himself with his rune-hammer, the massive head of the weapon pulverising chests and heads wherever it struck. Silver runes blazed with power as the weapon slew, and it left a flaming afterimage after it.

The Thane glanced at Gorthek. “What are you doing here?” he roared over the din. “You’re supposed to be guarding the quarrellers!”

Gorthek hacked his axe down into another Goblin, and ripped it free in a welter of gore. “The danger is here, Korgan! The quarrellers will all die if this line is not held!”

Korgan grunted, and caved in a Goblin’s skull with a heavy swing. “Just get killing!” shouted the Thane.

Gorthek grinned, and chopped his axe sideways, almost splitting a Goblin in half. The creature was dead before it hit the ground, Gorthek’s axe exploding from its waist in a fountain of blood, before coming up to parry a stab for the Slayer’s head. Gorthek grunted as he felt a serrated blade slide into his thigh, biting deep into muscle. He dropped to one knee, and headbutted his new assailant. The Goblin fell backwards, and Gorthek decapitated it with a wide swing.

He backed away, his axe flashing out in a dazzling pattern, blocking, parrying and killing in a web of deadly steel. Goblins fell dead before him, their blood slicking his skin and matting his tall flame-orange hair.

It was then that the first Fanatics began to whirl, their drug-induced strength allowing them to lift their huge weapons easily. They span around, ball-and-chains whipping through other Goblins that had been too close, smashing aside everything with their momentum and speed. The Fanatics began to move, spinning drunkenly around, most heading towards the Dwarven shieldwall. Gorthek saw two whirl back into the ranks of the Goblins, killing scores before they were piled upon and buried beneath a writhing mound of greenskins.

The others, a half-dozen, hurtled towards the Dwarves. The shieldwall would not stop their weapons; the sheer weight and speed of them would bat aside Dwarf and shield as if they were toys. Gorthek raised his axe high into the air.

“Fanatics!” he cried.

Korgan looked up, and then nodded. “Surround them!” The Thane lifted his hammer high and charged at the nearest Fanatic.

And then the first Fanatic hit the Dwarf lines. There was an almighty crash, and bodies flew high into the air, tossed about like rag dolls by the Fanatic’s weapon. A shout came up from the Dwarves, and the heavy-armoured warriors closed in around the spinning Goblin. They ducked under its weapon, hacking their axes down into the chain and sending the iron ball plunging down into the ground. The Fanatic started to swing it once more, but it the Dwarves closed in, their axes ending its life instantly.

Gorthek charged through the ranks, coming face to face with a Fanatic. He threw himself to the ground as its huge weapon arced through the air above him. The Fanatic’s insane cackle sounded above him, and he rolled to the side. He looked up in time to see a Goblin smashed from its feet by the Fanatic’s ball-and-chain, the crack of broken bones whipping through the air.

Gorthek hauled himself to his feet, and then had to dive backwards again as the Fanatic’s weapon whirled round at him once more. The wind stung his face in the wake of the giant iron ball, but the Slayer dug his feet in and remained upright despite his dodge. Once the ball had passed, Gorthek roared and charged forwards, grabbing one of the Goblin’s bony wrists and halting its spin. Though the Goblin had stopped, its weapon did not, and its momentum carried it around Gorthek and the Goblin twice before it dug itself into the earth.

He grunted as the thick chain wrapped itself around him. It tightened on his chest, pinning the Fanatic to him, crushing his lungs. Every breath burned beneath his ribs, and he felt as if he was suffocating, suffocating under the unbearable tightness. Gorthek gasped, and the Goblin was torn in two by the chain, its body unable to resist the pressure. Hot, wet gore drenched Gorthek as the Goblin slithered down him.

He used the momentary slackness granted him by the Goblin’s death, and hewed upwards with his axe, shearing the chain in two. The heavy iron links writhed to the floor like a clinking metal snake, kicking up coppery red dust.

Gorthek paused, gulping down breath after breath, trying to get his lungs to work again. Dimly, he heard a voice behind him.

“Slayer! Wolf Riders!”

It was Korgan. The stubborn Thane had survived, then. Gorthek glanced around, and almost had his eye taken out by a Goblin blade. In his exhaustion after the fight with the Fanatic, he had forgotten that the rest of the battle was still raging. He chopped off his assailant’s arms at the elbows, then disembowelled the shrieking greenskin. The putrid stench of death choked his nostrils.

The Wolf Riders. Gorthek glanced around, taking stock of the situation. There were precious few Dwarves left; perhaps a score at most, including the quarrellers. Most had been killed by the Fanatics, and the rest had been pulled down by the swarming Grobi.

There! At the back! Green dots atop grey streaks rounded the curve at the base of the trail, heading up into the rear of the quarrellers. Gorthek started forwards, slaughtering his way through the fight, but the quarrellers had noticed the new threat, and turned to face it.

They formed a disciplined, albeit battered, firing line, and flight after flight of steel bolts lashed out into the Wolf Riders. Goblins were punched from their saddles and wolves were staggered by the powerful impacts. The semi-disciplined charge of the Grobi was broken in the first two salvoes, the Wolves snarling and snapping at each other, and their riders bickering and hiding from the deadly bolts.

There were too many for bolts alone, though. Over twenty Wolf Riders made it to the quarrellers, and they barrelled into their firing line, trampling their way past. Goblins struck downwards with their spears, finding weak points in the quarrellers’ lighter armour. Dwarves fell all around, and now the Wolf Riders had broken formation, circling the fight like sharks, charging in and out.

Gorthek gave a shout as the last quarreller died, and he saw the Wolf Riders turn to him. One, who he presumed to be their leader, stood up on top of his saddle, raising a curved sword to the sky. “Kill the Dwarf!” screeched the Goblin.

The Wolf Riders reacted instantly, leaping into action with a chorus of vicious snarls and shouts. Gorthek raised his axe, settling his feet wide apart on the ground. He was a Slayer. His would be a mighty doom, not an anonymous death at the hands of Goblins and their wolves.

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Cefor

Ooh so something is affecting the gobbo's way of things... interesting
It was a good two chapters, I would of commented before now, but I didn't realise you had posted.

Now back to Varakash!

Hehe, btw I saw you on the old and new bl forum. Rahvin_Dahvin?? something similar.

Well anyway keep up the good work!

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Knowledge is Power

Veni, Vedi, Vici - Julius Caesar

Who Dares Wins

Rahvin

It's "Rahvin_Dashiva" on the Bl forums. Glad you liked it, Cefor! Don't worry, Varakash will be back soon.

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Aranor

Wow. Keep it going. I would almost ponder as to whether Varakash, being a being of honor, wanting to keep his appointment might interviene?

Rahvin_Dashiva? Wheel of Time?

Cefor

Ah yeah I remember now.

Good, I like Varakash. And I'm not too fond of Dwarves...unless its Gorthek or other crazy kinda Dwarf...

Oh and what's happening over at the Wood Elves? Can't forget them!

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Knowledge is Power

Veni, Vedi, Vici - Julius Caesar

Who Dares Wins

Rahvin

Aranor: Glad you like it! It will indeed be kept going. And yeah, back when I registered on there (and here), I was really into the Wheel of Time...

Cefor: Don't worry... all will be revealed in time...

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Rahvin

Part 7


“Wolf Riders to the rear!” shouted Gorthek.

As soon as the words had left his mouth he stepped forwards, bringing his axe around in a horizontal slash that caved in the side of a wolf’s head. The animal collapsed to the side, throwing its screaming rider off and under the trampling feet of the others.

Gorthek blocked a sweeping strike at his face, and his axe smashed into the back of another wolf, dragging it down to the ground, whining and snapping at him. He ducked under the flailing rider, and winced as he felt a thin blade pierce the muscle at the back of his shoulder.

He shook the Goblin off, and rose, bringing his axe up in a bloody arc, cleaving the Grobi from navel to forehead. It fell backwards, dead instantly, as its organs fell to the ground amidst a wash of thin blood.

He was surrounded. The Wolf Riders had rushed past him, and turned, leaving him inside a circle of snapping teeth and cackling Grobi. A wolf darted in, biting at him, and he drove it back with a hasty slash. He grimaced. All they had to do was wait for him to tire.

Fortunately, Goblins weren’t known for their patience.

Three of them leapt at him at once. He stepped forwards, past the slavering jaws and flickering blade of one, and smashed his axe into the head of the center wolf, stopping it dead in its tracks. The rider flew over his head, carried by the wolf’s momentum, and Gorthek whirled, lashing out with his axe and opening up a ragged gash in its ruddy green skin.

His breath left his mouth in a sharp gasp as the jaws of the third wolf closed on his left arm, biting deep and almost tearing the limb from its socket. Pain flared through him, and he aimed an awkward blow at the creature that only succeeded in removing its ear. It growled at him around the bloody flesh of is arm. Its rider leaned forwards, its blade poised to strike at the Slayer’s face.

And then a crimson shape flashed down from the cliff, almost faster than Gorthek’s eyes could follow, eviscerating wolf and Goblin alike with one slash of its sword. It didn’t pause in its motion, and moved forwards instantly, whirling around, sword flashing out to cleave two Goblins from their saddles, before its foot lashed out and sent their mounts flying backwards.

It paused for a moment, and Gorthek got a look at it. A flowing, torn red cape shrouded a figure encased in dirty steel armour. Greasy black hair trailed in strands down its back, and its eyes were twin orbs of midnight black. Its skin, where it could be seen, was stark, pale white. It straightened to its full height, perhaps six feet, and regarded Gorthek coldly.

It seemed about to speak, when a wolf appeared behind it, leaping at its back. The figure reacted instantly, spinning low and decapitating the wolf with one lazy strike of its blade. It took one last look at Gorthek, and then seemed to vanish, moving with preternatural speed down the slope and into the remaining Wolf Riders.

Gorthek stood immobile, struggling to make sense of hat he had just witnessed. He looked down the slope, and saw that the figure had been joined by nine others, dark swords rising and falling in bloodstained arcs through the Goblin horde. Korgan and his Warriors were falling back, watching the newcomers butcher the Goblins.

Abruptly, Gorthek realised that the dead Goblins were standing back up, animated by some fearsome power. He watched in mute horror as they fell on their living kin, stabbing clumsily with their weapons. Their movements were slow, uncoordinated, and even the Goblins were able to kill them easily, but every living thing they killed rose again to join their ranks.

Vampires! The ten figures had to be vampires. It was the only explanation. His left arm hanging limply by his side, Gorthek dashed down to Korgan. He reached the Thane just as the ten vampires finished off the Goblins. As the two Dwarves watched in silence, the ten figures stood, the wind whipping at their cloaks and hair. Gorthek felt a chill pass through him, an echo of some power, and the reanimated army of Goblins died as one, falling bonelessly to the ground.

The figures approached the Dwarves. Gorthek readied his axe. If he was to die, then these creatures would be worthy foes. They stopped, a dozen feet from the Dwarves, and one stepped forwards. Gorthek recognised it as the one that had saved him from the Wolf Riders. In a low, smooth voice, it began to speak.

“We have no quarrel with you, Dwaves,” it said. “We simply wish to pass through this area. The Goblins would not understand such, and so we were forced to kill them. You, however, are a civilised people. By your own standards, we have done you a service here, and all we ask in repayment is to pass through here. Know that, if it comes to it, you would not be able to stand against us, but we do not wish to fight meaninglessly. It is not honourable.”

Korgan cleared his throat. “You speak truth, newcomer. You have named your price for the aid you have given, though it was not asked for, and I will not have it said that the Dwarves are ungrateful. You shall have your safe passage. First, though, I would know your identities.”

The figure smiled. “We are the Accursed Lords.”

And then they were gone, moving northwards up the passage faster than the eye could follow. Gorthek glanced at Korgan.

“Aye,” said the Thane in response to the Slayer’s glance. “I know not why they did as they did, but they saved us, did they not? To my knowledge, they have never harmed us, and their actions put us in their debt. Safe passage was a small price.”

Gorthek sighed. “I suppose you are right, Korgan. It wasn’t like we could have harmed them anyway, if we had denied them. I saw their strength first hand, and I am certain that we would all have perished.” He looked around bitterly at the few remaining Dwarves. “All fourteen of us.”

Korgan gestured at the dead Goblins littering the trail. There were over a thousand. “If ten can kill a thousand Grobi in barely five minutes, then I doubt that fourteen Dwarves would give them much trouble.”

Scree tumbled down the cliff as Grim and his Rangers descended towards the others. They were as battered as the others, having been subjected to volley after volley of shortbow fire from the Goblins. Only four survived, beside Grim himself.

Gorthek hailed them over. “Grim,” he called, “They were kin to my quarry, I am certain. They must go to join him. Can you track them?”

Grim thought for a moment. “It’ll be difficult, at their speed,” he said, finally. “I think I can manage, though. We’d best get started quickly.”

Korgan stepped between the two. “Not yet. First, we bury our dead. I’ll not allow the dead to lie here for the elements to claim if I can help it.”

Gorthek bowed his head. “Of course,” he said.

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>KârK<

**Having read only the intro so far, these are my first impressions**

Now this looks interesting. It's not so much the storyline (which I do like the look of - very Soul Reaver-esque feel to it) as the the way it's written. This has to be the most promising thing I've laid eyes on since I joined a few days ago. Bookmarked.

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>Kârk<

Rahvin

Thanks KarK, glad you liked it!

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