Collectibles - http://maxpages.com/theoldworld/morkheim2

Morkheim Calling, Part Two

It was a week later and they had found someone who would buy their strange stones. Hobrakakor had taken a couple of the boyz on an expedition closer to the human settlements and had found a sign put up by a human shaman. The strange fellow didn't seem to mind trading with orcs but he had tried to trick Watharkhan into parting with the stones for a far too low price. Fortunately the orcs had capured a human brigand a few days before and leaned on him until he had told them the average price the stones went for. The human shaman had tried to haggle but after Wathakhan had bitten off and eaten a couple of his fingers he had changed his mind and given the orcs a fair price.
Now they were venturing into an area where his scouts had told him a group of stunties were setting up a base. Well, they'd see about that. They were advancing in parallell lines down the ruined streets. His group made their way along what looked to have been a street of small shops. To his left he could sometimes catch a glimpse of Dobrovlum's group as they mad their way in a narrow alley behind the row of shops. Somewhere to his right Talashbag's group would be moving along the rooftops to make a surprise attack on the hated stunties. Those beardlings couldn't be far off now.
A whirring sound followed by a "thunk" made the lieutenant turn around just in time to see the Thaumaturgy Sergeant go down with a crossbow bolt in his gut. His sharp eyes quickly scanned the buildings down the street and he spotted a helmeted head in one window.
"Scatter, there's a sniper in the book depository!" he bellowed as he snatched up a goblin and used him as a living shield as he ran down the street and into a small alleyway.
He heard the sound of iron shod boots hitting the cobbles as a group of stunties came running to stop the orcs. Of course, since they were stunties they weren't running very fast. As they passed the alleyway Watharkhan stepped out behind one of them and brought his axe down on the stunty's neck with crushing force. He could feel the creature's spine shatter as it fell forward with it's head almost severed from it's body. The sound distracted the rest of the stunties just as the squigs tore into them. Watharkhan let out a howl of joy and rage and charged the nearest stunty, a short bearded one who seemed to be just a whelp. The big orc easily parried the stunty's clumsy axe chop with his sword before barreling him to the ground and burying his axe in his face. The other members of his platoon seemed to be holding their own - barely. Stunty flesh was tougher than skaven or human most of the goblins' blows seemed to have little effect. Only the sergeants seemed to be doing some damage with their halberds; chopping, parrying, thrusting. A stuty took the spike through the eye and fell to the ground without a word.
More stunties came running, among them a couple of those 'slayers'. They were fun to fight. One of them took a goblin arrow through the shoulder but ran on oblivious to the wound. Watharkhan respected that. He liberated the axe the fallen stundty had held and scratched his neck with it thoughtfully. Stunties would have been far more dangerous if they had been able to run faster. The stunty was closing now, foaming at the mouth and shouting some sort of warcry. Watharkhan looked at the dead stunty's axe. It was a good waepon, like all stunty weapons, with good balance and a keen edge. When the stunty was five meters away he threw the axe and split his skull open. Oh, well, stunties should really learn to run faster. Another slayer charged into a squad of goblins, his pair of axes cleaving into the air where the goblins weren't. The three goblins watched bemused as the stunty waved his axes around but always missing the nimble goblins. The lieutenant could hear the stunty roar in frustration just before a goblin drove his dagger between his ribs.
The rest of the battle didn't seem to go very well; most of his platoon seemed to be getting their arses kicked by the stunties and Talashbag's squad seemed to be falling back. The suigs were running around biting regardless. Maybe it was time to.. .
A sixth sense warned him just in time and he threw himself to the ground, rolled, came up and lashed out with his sword. A double-handed axe crashed down on the spot he had stood. The orc's blade also failed to connect but the stunty, who seemed to be the leader of the pack, had to back up to avoid the attack. Watharkhan didn't hesitate, but followed up quickly so that the stunty wouldn't have time to swing his heavier weapon. Finally a worthy opponent. The stunty leader parried the axe chop with the haft of his axe but was too slow to stop the orc's sword from stabbing him in his side. Luckily for him it glanced off his ribs. The stunty got a swing on his big axe and Watharkhan could feel it biting into his shoulder. His sword arm was numb and be swung out with his axe clumsily. The stunty could see that that the attack would miss, but he didn't see the bluff. Quick as a lynx Watharkhan reversed his grip on the axe and stabbed the spike on the end of it up into the stunty's armpit. The stunty buckeled over and that would have been the end of him if not two of his henchmen had come to his rescue. Their fury drove Watharkhan away from his victim and he had to admit that it was time to withdraw from the battle.

The squad moved swiftly through the darkened suburbs of the city. They easily avoided the larger groups of humans that inhabited the area and any solitary individuals were quickly overrun - literally. The goblin who had been keepng watch out by the old ruins in the forest had alerted them that their reinforcements had arrived and they were on thir way to meet them. After two months in the city Watharkhan had changed. A regular diet of human meat and a nearly unlimited number of foes to fight meant that he had put on nearly fourty pounds. His scarred hide was as thick as a troll's and even walking in his orcish stoop he was a foot taller than the average human. He could crush a man's head in his huge hands and bite off arms. This really was the life.
The other orcs were waiting at the edge of the forest, their dull green hides blending into the surrounding so that only a trainded eye could have spotted them. Watharkhan and the leader of the group, a squat orc named Orgnog exchanged salutes. Orgnog cuffed one of the goblins, indicating that he had brought the reinforcements as he had been ordered to. Watharkhan grunted and shot his lower jaw out as he surveyed the new recruits. What a bunch of fresh weaklings. The warboss had obviously been worried that his lieutenant might be getting ambitious so far from his superior. No matter. A couple of weeks of Morkheim would make proper orcs out of them - except for the goblins of course, but that was only to be expected. No matter how much he tried the goblins just wouldn't improve. He'd even lined the goblins from his so-called "sniper" unit up fifteen paces from a barn door and made them shoot at it. Less than half had been able to hit and there had been cooked goblin for supper that night.
"Oh, and there's this," Orgnog said and tossed over a tied up elf. Watharkhan caught it one-handed and passed it on to Talashbag.
"Goo," he said, "the old one was a gonner. Hand him the gold."
The two remaining members of the First Black Squad handed over the heavy chests they had been carrying.
"Anything you want me to tell the boss?" Orgnog asked.
"Tell him next time I want a troll," Watharkhan grinned. A big troll would have been handy against those pesky chaos worshippers.
The shorter orc nodded. Then he accepted the food offered to him by Watharkhan's boyz before he and the last two orcs who were going back with him turned around and disappered into the night.
After giving the new recruits a big grin Watharkhan turned to Talashbag.
"Right, we've got a new elf, let's go back and eat the old one."

webmaster@theoldworld.20m.com

Visitors: 00138

Page Updated Sat Jun 30, 2001 11:29am EDT