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The Heroes of Winterhaven - updated 8th June - Ryam Plays Dice
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<blockquote data-quote="Mathew_Freeman" data-source="post: 4642647" data-attributes="member: 1846"><p><strong>The Most Basic Rule of Warfare Part 1</strong></p><p></p><p>In the flickering torchlight of the guard room the harsh tones of the goblin tongue could be heard as the hobgoblin Warchief addressed his men.</p><p></p><p>“The bogeys will be returning from Winterhaven anytime now. We’ve been over the plan a dozen times, you all know what to do, and we don’t want a repeat of what happened last time. Brulthag and his men were sloppy, they forgot the most basic rule of warfare…”</p><p></p><p>The Warchief was interrupted by a thumping at the door at the end of a short passageway, the only way into the guardroom from the upper levels, and thusly the only way to gain access to the lower levels beyond.</p><p></p><p>“It’s them Chief! The bogeys!” whispered one of the soldiers who had been crouching on his haunches near the door.</p><p></p><p>“Right! To your positions, lads!” commanded the Warchief, “Stay together, and keep those shields locked!” The soldiers sprang into formation several lines deep, wicked flails unfurled, and large steel shields locked tightly.</p><p></p><p>The door opened and a heavily armoured hobgoblin appeared carrying an armful of snuffed torches. “Got ‘em Chief, those plonkers wont know which way is up. Any luck, they might fall down the well!”</p><p></p><p>The warchief rose from the large oaken chair in which he had been sitting proudly. “Did we or did we not have a conversation not ten minutes ago involving me telling you the secret knock?” he asked.</p><p></p><p>The recent entrant looked startled. “I had my arms full of snuffed torches Chief, I had to improvise…” he explained, nodding towards his hobnailed boots.</p><p></p><p>“Well dump those in the other room and get back to your position!” ordered the Warchief, adding “And the next time you disobey orders, I’ll have you court martialed!”</p><p></p><p>The soldier locked the door behind him, tromped across the room carrying his armload of snuffed torches, past several ranks of scowling soldiers, past the archers who stood beside a large cauldron of steaming soup and disappeared through an archway.</p><p></p><p>“The soup is nearly ready. Approximately T minus three minutes, Chief,” declared one of the archers efficiently.</p><p></p><p>“Good work, private! Now as I was saying, Brulthag slipped up. He forgot the first and most important rule of warfare…” continued the Warchief, again warming to his theme.</p><p></p><p>“What’s all that thumping about Captain?” A hunched and cowled figure stuck it’s head around the corner of one of the other exits. “I thought we had agreed to absolute silence!”</p><p></p><p>“Nothing to worry about old fellow, you get back to whatever it is you Warcasters do when you’re not doing anything.” There were some chortles amongst the soldiers.</p><p></p><p>“Actually my twin and I are recharging our staves, and you would do well to remember that Maglubiyet rewards neither the strong nor the weak, but the victor,” sneered the Warcaster in return.</p><p></p><p>“Recharging your staves, eh? Is that what you call it? Well you get back in there and recharge those staves good, we wouldn’t want you going off half-cocked now, would we?” There were more chortles.</p><p></p><p>“You will soon see where indeed lies the true might of this outfit, Captain.” And with that the warcaster went back to his work.</p><p></p><p>“Permission to speak, Chief,” pronounced a soldier from the far side of the room.</p><p></p><p>“Permission granted,” grunted the Warchief.</p><p></p><p>“I heard a story about one of those Warcasters, from back in the Old City . They say he walks into this tavern with just two pieces of copper and asks for a flagon of drow wine. The barman says ‘You must be joking mate, that’ll cost you ten gold, prob’ly more than you can carry you old codger’ so the warcaster walks out of the bar.”</p><p></p><p>“Is that the story?” asked the Warchief.</p><p></p><p>“No Chief! See, a few minutes later the Warcaster comes back into the tavern, looks around, spots this empty bottle up on the top shelf, high up like, and says to the barman ‘Alright, I’ll make you a bet. I bet you my two copper that I can piss into that bottle whilst standing right here!’ The barman looks up at the bottle, right up high on that shelf and says ‘Why Maglubiyet himself couldn’t piss that far, you’re on!’</p><p></p><p>“I’ve heard this one before,” whispered one of the other soldiers to his neighbour.</p><p></p><p>The raconteur continued, “So the Warcaster lifts up his robes and he starts pissing. He’s pissing on the floor, he’s pissing on the bar, he’s pissing on the tables, on the chairs, and on the punters sitting in the chairs. He’s pissing up the walls, he’s pissing on the windows, he even pisses on the warg sleeping by the fire, until he’s all pissed out.” Glancing around, he noted the reaction to his story thus far, and continued.</p><p></p><p>“So the barman wipes his face with a dishcloth, looks up at the bottle, it’s empty. Not a drop of piss. He’s laughing, ‘You foolish old dolt’ he says, ‘I knew you would never be able to even hit that, now pay up!’ So the warcaster pays up, but now he’s laughing. He’s roaring with laughter. He’s in hysterics. So the barman asks him ‘What’s so funny? You just lost all your money!’ So the warcaster says ‘Yes, but I just met this drow outside and I bet him ten gold pieces that I could piss all over your bar and you wouldn’t do anything about it!”</p><p></p><p>The soldiers chuckled amongst themselves. The Warchief pondered the tale.</p><p></p><p>“So then what happened?” the Warchief asked at length. A deathly silence fell across the room, save for the crackle of the small fire under the caldron.</p><p></p><p>“The barman hacked him to pieces, stuck his head on a spike, and that was that.” came the swift reply, the soldier well versed in his superior’s sense of humour.</p><p></p><p>The warchief sat back into his large oaken chair. “Well that just goes to prove my point. Never forget the first, most basic, most important, most fundamental rule of warfare…”</p><p></p><p>Suddenly there could be heard heavy footsteps and the clanging of armour from outside the door.</p><p></p><p>“They’re here, Chief! The bogeys!” whispered the alert sentry from his position of cover.</p><p></p><p>“Look sharp, lads!” barked the Warchief, “You have trained for this moment. You have been drilled and honed to the limit of hobgoblin perfection for the act of killing, shedding blood, splitting heads, and shattering bones. Keep those shields locked, remember what you have been taught, and make me proud!”</p><p></p><p>“Yes, Chief!” came the chorused reply.</p><p></p><p>“And keep silent!”</p><p></p><p><span style="color: orange">DM note: Many, many thanks to crater for coming up with this small interlude on his own merits. Please excuse the language (what has got through the filter).</span></p><p><span style="color: orange"></span></p><p><span style="color: orange">I had been making a great deal of how the hobgoblins were a lot more disciplined and organised compared to previous foes, so I suppose I deserve to hear what they'd actually been talking about. I also had to explain exactly how the hobgoblins were ready for the PC's despite the long gap between this and the previous fight, so many many thanks to crater for filling in the gap.</span></p><p><span style="color: orange"></span></p><p><span style="color: orange">Next update on Wednesday, featuring some more startling good dalogue from the PC's, this time.</span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Mathew_Freeman, post: 4642647, member: 1846"] [b]The Most Basic Rule of Warfare Part 1[/b] In the flickering torchlight of the guard room the harsh tones of the goblin tongue could be heard as the hobgoblin Warchief addressed his men. “The bogeys will be returning from Winterhaven anytime now. We’ve been over the plan a dozen times, you all know what to do, and we don’t want a repeat of what happened last time. Brulthag and his men were sloppy, they forgot the most basic rule of warfare…” The Warchief was interrupted by a thumping at the door at the end of a short passageway, the only way into the guardroom from the upper levels, and thusly the only way to gain access to the lower levels beyond. “It’s them Chief! The bogeys!” whispered one of the soldiers who had been crouching on his haunches near the door. “Right! To your positions, lads!” commanded the Warchief, “Stay together, and keep those shields locked!” The soldiers sprang into formation several lines deep, wicked flails unfurled, and large steel shields locked tightly. The door opened and a heavily armoured hobgoblin appeared carrying an armful of snuffed torches. “Got ‘em Chief, those plonkers wont know which way is up. Any luck, they might fall down the well!” The warchief rose from the large oaken chair in which he had been sitting proudly. “Did we or did we not have a conversation not ten minutes ago involving me telling you the secret knock?” he asked. The recent entrant looked startled. “I had my arms full of snuffed torches Chief, I had to improvise…” he explained, nodding towards his hobnailed boots. “Well dump those in the other room and get back to your position!” ordered the Warchief, adding “And the next time you disobey orders, I’ll have you court martialed!” The soldier locked the door behind him, tromped across the room carrying his armload of snuffed torches, past several ranks of scowling soldiers, past the archers who stood beside a large cauldron of steaming soup and disappeared through an archway. “The soup is nearly ready. Approximately T minus three minutes, Chief,” declared one of the archers efficiently. “Good work, private! Now as I was saying, Brulthag slipped up. He forgot the first and most important rule of warfare…” continued the Warchief, again warming to his theme. “What’s all that thumping about Captain?” A hunched and cowled figure stuck it’s head around the corner of one of the other exits. “I thought we had agreed to absolute silence!” “Nothing to worry about old fellow, you get back to whatever it is you Warcasters do when you’re not doing anything.” There were some chortles amongst the soldiers. “Actually my twin and I are recharging our staves, and you would do well to remember that Maglubiyet rewards neither the strong nor the weak, but the victor,” sneered the Warcaster in return. “Recharging your staves, eh? Is that what you call it? Well you get back in there and recharge those staves good, we wouldn’t want you going off half-cocked now, would we?” There were more chortles. “You will soon see where indeed lies the true might of this outfit, Captain.” And with that the warcaster went back to his work. “Permission to speak, Chief,” pronounced a soldier from the far side of the room. “Permission granted,” grunted the Warchief. “I heard a story about one of those Warcasters, from back in the Old City . They say he walks into this tavern with just two pieces of copper and asks for a flagon of drow wine. The barman says ‘You must be joking mate, that’ll cost you ten gold, prob’ly more than you can carry you old codger’ so the warcaster walks out of the bar.” “Is that the story?” asked the Warchief. “No Chief! See, a few minutes later the Warcaster comes back into the tavern, looks around, spots this empty bottle up on the top shelf, high up like, and says to the barman ‘Alright, I’ll make you a bet. I bet you my two copper that I can piss into that bottle whilst standing right here!’ The barman looks up at the bottle, right up high on that shelf and says ‘Why Maglubiyet himself couldn’t piss that far, you’re on!’ “I’ve heard this one before,” whispered one of the other soldiers to his neighbour. The raconteur continued, “So the Warcaster lifts up his robes and he starts pissing. He’s pissing on the floor, he’s pissing on the bar, he’s pissing on the tables, on the chairs, and on the punters sitting in the chairs. He’s pissing up the walls, he’s pissing on the windows, he even pisses on the warg sleeping by the fire, until he’s all pissed out.” Glancing around, he noted the reaction to his story thus far, and continued. “So the barman wipes his face with a dishcloth, looks up at the bottle, it’s empty. Not a drop of piss. He’s laughing, ‘You foolish old dolt’ he says, ‘I knew you would never be able to even hit that, now pay up!’ So the warcaster pays up, but now he’s laughing. He’s roaring with laughter. He’s in hysterics. So the barman asks him ‘What’s so funny? You just lost all your money!’ So the warcaster says ‘Yes, but I just met this drow outside and I bet him ten gold pieces that I could piss all over your bar and you wouldn’t do anything about it!” The soldiers chuckled amongst themselves. The Warchief pondered the tale. “So then what happened?” the Warchief asked at length. A deathly silence fell across the room, save for the crackle of the small fire under the caldron. “The barman hacked him to pieces, stuck his head on a spike, and that was that.” came the swift reply, the soldier well versed in his superior’s sense of humour. The warchief sat back into his large oaken chair. “Well that just goes to prove my point. Never forget the first, most basic, most important, most fundamental rule of warfare…” Suddenly there could be heard heavy footsteps and the clanging of armour from outside the door. “They’re here, Chief! The bogeys!” whispered the alert sentry from his position of cover. “Look sharp, lads!” barked the Warchief, “You have trained for this moment. You have been drilled and honed to the limit of hobgoblin perfection for the act of killing, shedding blood, splitting heads, and shattering bones. Keep those shields locked, remember what you have been taught, and make me proud!” “Yes, Chief!” came the chorused reply. “And keep silent!” [color=orange]DM note: Many, many thanks to crater for coming up with this small interlude on his own merits. Please excuse the language (what has got through the filter). I had been making a great deal of how the hobgoblins were a lot more disciplined and organised compared to previous foes, so I suppose I deserve to hear what they'd actually been talking about. I also had to explain exactly how the hobgoblins were ready for the PC's despite the long gap between this and the previous fight, so many many thanks to crater for filling in the gap. Next update on Wednesday, featuring some more startling good dalogue from the PC's, this time.[/color] [/QUOTE]
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