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FF1 Fanfic: Goblin!

Posted: 17th September 2006 21:13

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Wavey Marle!
Posts: 2,098

Joined: 21/1/2003

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Member of more than ten years. Third place in CoN European Cup fantasy game for 2011-2012. Member of more than five years. Second place in CoN European Cup, 2008. 
Winner of the 2004 Gogo Fanfiction contest. Major involvement in the Final Fantasy IV section of CoN. Contributed to the Chrono Trigger section of CoN. 
(A final fantasy 1 comedy/parody based on the motion picture Zulu. Has Goblins, silliness, Goblins, lashings of ultraviolence, dodgy accents, Goblins, an alleged plot, Goblins, and vague jokes that are kind of clever to the point of not being funny.)


Chapter One: Islawhandaaaa...

Letter from the Secretary of State for War and Putting Soldiers in the Middle of Fields for no Apparent Reason to His/Her Majesty the King/Queen Frank N. Furter, in the 24th year of the reign of King/Queen Frank the Sweet.

I regret to report a very disastrous engagement which took place on the morning of January 23rd, between myself and your daughter, Princess Sara. She kicked me in the testicles for not having enough spies watching Garland.

I also regret to report that another disastrous engagement between five companies of the 24th Foot-And-Mouth Regiment, a total of 1480 men, 13 women, 2 ladyboys, 1 girl pretending to be a boy to join the army rather than the royal prostitution corps, 1 boy pretending to be a girl to join the royal prostitution corps rather than the army, 2 geese, 8 ducks, 9 dogs, 3 cats, 2 hamsters, 23 rats, 3 badgers, 3 badgers, 3 badgers, a mushroom, a mushroom and a snakey snake, ooh it's a snake, and a horde of Goblins (the aforementioned men and geese and such fought the Goblins, not each other) numbering an ludicrously large amount of Goblins. The Goblins, in virtually a tide of short green foul smelling creatures that if our country had flamethrowers would have been amusingly easy to defeat, instead fell upon our ranks and did use a variety of violently violent methods to slaughter the entire column in spite of gallant running away tactical withdrawal.

The horde is now heading for Orc's Drift, where that bridge you wanted built is being built.

I also request that I have my Basque and suspenders that his/her majesty has borrowed be returned washed.

Letter from the Secretary of State for War and Putting Soldiers in the Middle of Fields for no Apparent Reason to the Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Request funds for:
1550 new swords, short.
1550 new shields, small, wooden.
1550 new bows, short, type 2 strings
1550 new quiver holsters.
75550 new arrows, standard iron head.
15500 new arrows, fire, cotton wrap
1500 new soldiers
2 pints milk
4 rashers, bacon
1 loaf, bread, wholemeal
1 packet eggs, 6 free range
2lbs butter
4lbs flour, white
1 pack cheezy nibbles
3 French hens
2 turtle doves
1 partridge, in pear tree.


Letter from Secretary of State for War and Putting Soldiers in the Middle of Fields for no Apparent Reason to the Secretary of State for Shipping.

Cecil X Rosa, Edge X Rydia, Picard X B. Crusher, Riker X Troi, Sephy X Cloud LOL : )


***

Islawhanda, North of Cornelia, and south of where the bridge is built.

Smoke drifted across the battlefield, and the red tunics of Cornelian soldiers littered the grass. It was fortunate they wore red, because the amount of blood they had all lost would have terribly stained, say, a blue shirt . Ballistas lay smashed, tents burned, and Goblins scampered about their scene of victory gleefully.

In all, it was not a recruitment poster for the Corenelian Army... However, to be fair, there had only been a thousand soldiers. And ten thousand Goblins...

'Knew we should have camped at Deep's Helm,' an expiring soldier said to the sky. A Goblin promptly tried to steal his teeth.

***

A Goblin is a strange creature. Acting human in many ways, such as their love of violence, money, occasional use of tactics and when faced with something much bigger than they are, cowardice, they nonetheless have a somewhat animal mindset, and a somewhat vicious lack of intelligence.

For example, Goblins know of the human legend that Trolls teeth are made of diamonds. In their logic, Goblins reason, humans are soft and sqidgy and come in more than one colour. Trolls come in more than one colour and are hard and not squdgy, so that means they're the opposite of humans. And if Trolls teeth are made of diamonds, diamonds are valuable, so trolls teeth are valuable.

Since humans are the opposite of trolls, they figure, diamonds must be made of human teeth, so they kill humans aiming to sell the teeth to other humans so they can make diamonds.

At no point do the Goblins realise that if they keep killing humans to steal their teeth, there will be no one left to buy the teeth.

There are four types of Goblin: Grunt, Guard (Also called a Sergeant at times, due to a remarkable resemblance to the average drill instructor) , Captain, and Lord. These are the human names for them. Goblins simply call each other grunt, big grunt, bigga grunt, boss.

As their size grows, so does their intellect, and therefore their cruelty. However, the smaller Goblin has the assistance of stupidity allowing him to be devious because a smart creature would not ever try anything so stupid.

If a Goblin thought of the plan, it is either so simple it will fail or so stupid you're doomed. If they had no plan, then it could go either way.

***

At the channel...

'So, why are we trying to build this bridge again? No one's rescued a princess have they?' one soldier said.

'They have, you 'orrible little man!' yelled Colour Sergeant Bourne. Bourne was a very loud, very shouty sergeant with a booming voice, though questions were raised as to his true identity. What was unquestioned was his supremacy in shouting, and he would often issue an ultimatum to any disrespectful trooper.

A yell from along the construction sounded

'Corporal Allen! Have some men hold that incredibly heavy stupidly large and quite frankly deadly lump of masonry there that's about to collapse,' yelled Captain Chard of the engineers. Bourne ordered a man into position with a burst of shoutyness. A small scream and thump of masonry came. Corporal Allens caught Chard's eye and shrugged.

Chard was not the kind of man who you looked at and thought: 'That man can command a handful of soldiers to defeat a horde outnumbering them almost sixty to one.' No, you thought: 'I bet he's obsessed with building things.' And you were right. But oddly, you'd have been right either way, because Chard turtles, and this game being old school. He also had an annoying habit of having his character description making the deaths of other people become insignificant.

'...Er, Sergeant Bourne, I asked Corporal Allens to send MEN, plural, not you to send MAN/pancake, singular...'

'Oh, beg your pardon, sir, OI YOU 'ORRIBLE FLATTENED MAN, GET THAT MASONRY OFF YOURSELF ON THE DOUBLE!'

The lump of rock wobbled slightly. A few other men moved it off the soldier.

A rider approached the construction works, and stopped at Chard.

'Afternoon, sir, message from the encampment at Islawhanda.'

'Well, I must tell you I am not the commanding officer of this garrison, I'm...'

'Oh, beg your pardon, sah, but it's not as such from the column, more from the Goblins...' he said, turning to show the dozen arrows in his back.

'Oh, I see. Er, what's the message?'

'A few dozen arrows. Message from the encampment is "Goblins, hundreds of 'em, aaagh." Message from me, sah, is, "Urgh."'

'Urgh?!'

'Yes, sah. URGH!' he said, and fell off the horse, dead.

Chard stared at the former man, not hearing another horse approach from behind.

'Hot work?' an upper class accent enquired. It was another officer.

'Well, it would be if we'd built anything rather than getting a man flattened and watching a messenger fall off a horse with a hundred arrows up his arse.'

'Still, the ocean cools you off a bit, I suppose...'

'It's acidic.'

'Hang on a minute, there's only one in his back. How'd you know there's a hundred up his... Wait, I don't want to know, let's start over, waaa waaa, I've just been born and I'm praying that IS the umbilical cord the doctor is about to cut off...'

'Look, can we skip that part, and get back to the present day or thereabouts?'

'I meant January, it's a little problem I have, when I say December I mean January...'

'Back a little bit.'

'Ah, yes. That's better. Hot work?'

'Would be if we'd built anything rather than getting a man flattened and watching a messenger fall off a horse,' Chard replied.

'Why did he do that?'

'He's dead.'

The officer looked.

'Well, what do you know, he is. Anyway, I see you're using my men,' the other officer said.

'Well, they were lying around doing nothing...'

'I'd rather you'd asked first, old boy. Bromhead's the name, Captain Gonville Bromhead, Officer's Field number L85 SA80AKS74U, 24th Foot-and-Mouth.'

'Captain John Lucpi Chard, O.F U55 EN73RPR15E, Royal Engineers, 4th nail-in-hand.'

'Pleasure meeting you. Well, chin-chin, do carry on with your mud pies... Oh, no, you said engineer, not catering corps...' Bromhead said, recalling the cook at Orc's Drift.

'Er, Captain, this corpse here, it came from the camp at Islawotsit,' Corporal Allens said

'Did it? What's that got to do with us?'

Four warriors approached, three men and a woman.

'Captains, a horde of Goblins approaches this area,' the lead warrior, a warrior oddly enough, said.

'...Well, shit,' Bromhead said.

'Who might you be?' Chard asked.

'The light warriors,' the woman replied.

'Ah... If you've come about the bridge...'

'Never mind the bridge, we can wait. The Goblin horde nears,' the black mage replied.

'Or build it ourselves...' The Black Belt smugly followed on.

'Yes, right, whatever...' Bromhead said.

'Lo Squall,' a voice said.

'Private Bauer, cut that out!' Bourne yelled.

'...Let's head back to the farm at Orc's Drift and set up defences. How many Goblins are there?'

'How many hairs are on your head?' The Warrior asked

'Five thousand nine hundred and twenty three,' Bromhead replied all too fast.

'...About that number, yes.'

The officers, light warriors, and assembled troops marched back to Orc's Drift. Sadly, on the way, Chard decided to build the road there which delayed their arrival and somehow squashed a few more soldiers, leaving the defenders with only 97 men plus 2 officers and 4 heroes.

This post has been edited by Del S on 18th May 2007 00:04

--------------------
"Only the dead have seen the end of their quotes being misattributed to Plato."
-George Santayana

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
-Abraham Lincoln, prior to the discovery of Irony.
Post #130889
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Posted: 19th September 2006 16:03

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Wavey Marle!
Posts: 2,098

Joined: 21/1/2003

Awards:
Member of more than ten years. Third place in CoN European Cup fantasy game for 2011-2012. Member of more than five years. Second place in CoN European Cup, 2008. 
Winner of the 2004 Gogo Fanfiction contest. Major involvement in the Final Fantasy IV section of CoN. Contributed to the Chrono Trigger section of CoN. 
Chapter 2: Defence goes round Degarden.

Orc's Drift


Orc's Drift was a farmhouse, a barn, a small church and a worker's barracks. Right now, it was a farmhouse, a hospital, and a soldiers barracks. Red-coated soldiers milled around trying to build defences, hindered by the local priest.

'Death approaches! Shall you be Kain and... And... Er, betray your best friend because you fancy his bird? Shall you be Edward and run like a little girl? One who isn't Rydia, obviously? Shall you be-' he said, only to be interrupted by a smack over the head by a staff.

'Thank you ma'am, can't have him discouraging the lads as the Goblins near...' Sergeant Bourne said to the White Mage as the Warrior dragged him off to an outhouse.

The nearest soldiers dropped their swords.

'Goblins approaching?!'

'Oh, bugger, he didn't know about the goblins did he, he was just out to piss off squaddies again,' Bourne realised.

***

Meanwhile, Chard and Bromhead got into an argument over who was commissioned first.

'I meant January, it's a little problem I have, when I say December I mean January...' Bromhead lied

'Will your record say that?' Chard said, also lying as he picked up a folder that did not in fact contain any records, but a dictionary in case the officer encountered someone using bigger words than he did.

'Oh, all right, maybe your commission is first, but you're an engineer...'

'Well, that's what a defensive action is, really, being the better builder.'

'Not if they rush you, you spend five hundred GP on each pillbox, after 300 on a power plant, 300 on a barracks AND you don't have a refinery yet,' Bromhead pointed out

'Yes, but at most they'll have a few troops, and two pillboxes can easily handle up to five men attacking at a time, and your infantry can mop up.'

'Trouble is, old boy our MCV isn't here.'

'...Bugger. Have we got a cook?'

'Yes, he's over there heating soup.'

'With fire? Which burns things? We can't gift the Goblins fire! '

'Eh? Oh, I see, you’re going to have him pour it over the fires. Why not pour it boiling on the goblins?'

'We are not in a castle, Bromhead. Plus we do not want to give the goblins a gift of soup.'

'I see you've never tasted Cooky's soup. Lucky man...' Bromhead mused

'Oh, wait a minute, there's a polluted little stream here, we can have the men use buckets and save some soup inside for a meal during any lull in the attack,'

'Er, I really think we should... Well, use the soup, spare the men some effort

***

The priest awoke in the outhouse, as the White Mage hijacked his hospital. He began babbling again, but the troopers were building a sandbag wall around the outhouse to shut him up, leaving only a small gap for a private to occasionally ram a sword in.

***

'Put just over half the men on the north wall, two good lookouts on the hill, and the remaining men on the south wall. Bows and swords ready, volley fire on the NCO's command. When those goblins come, I want kebabs, lots of kebabs...' Chard said to a sergeant.

'Look, Chard, about the soup, please can we just pour it on the fire? Or set fire to it? Anything but eating it?'

'I don't see why you're so obsessed with wanting to pour it away,' Chard said, walking towards the boiling pot of soup, and taking a spoonful from a ladle. 'It's perfectly good food and can be eaten cold.'

He took a sip. He gagged.

'...However... We can't really keep that much to heat inside the defences, can we... No, best we get rid of it all, so we don't have to give small portions that will just make the men, er, hungrier...'

'Or kill them so the Goblins don't have to,' Bromhead said as they walked away from the cook.

'Bromhead, I can assure you, you were right. If that soup wound up being possibly the last meal of these men, we'd have them all stabbing themselves to death...'

***

A few miles away...

The horde of Goblins ran like a river through the woods. Those who had not slammed into trees whooped. Those who had, burbled. All carried various blades, ranging from thin rusty daggers to short swords stolen from the corpses at the battlefield. A few carried stolen bows...

'WHOOP wooble! 'Ere we go, 'ere we go, 'ere we go!!!'

...All were batshit insane. One Goblin stood out even from the captains and guards.

***

'That's all well and good, but when are they going to bloody well attack?!' said a private.

'Goblins attack without much warning. Apart from the foul stench they send ahead as a scout, the whooping and yelling and the clang of metal, and of course the huge cloud of dust,' said Corporal Allens

'Pfft, whatever...'

'Lo Squall,' said a voice from somewhere.

'PRIVATE BAAUER!'

This post has been edited by Del S on 19th September 2006 16:04

--------------------
"Only the dead have seen the end of their quotes being misattributed to Plato."
-George Santayana

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
-Abraham Lincoln, prior to the discovery of Irony.
Post #130973
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Posted: 19th September 2006 18:07

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Disciplinary Committee Member
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Joined: 25/10/2004

Awards:
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Never having seen Zulu, it's difficult for me to judge based on parody. It's light-hearted and I see lots of Monty Python-esque humor. In fact, conversations flow eeriely like those in Flying Circus. Maybe you were shooting for that; maybe my ignorance of British comedy is showing. Either way, it works and I like it.

*wanders off to watch the Twit Race again*

--------------------
Visions of Peace - Four Generals, One Empire, and the Returners caught in the middle.
Post #130990
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Posted: 8th February 2007 16:27

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Wavey Marle!
Posts: 2,098

Joined: 21/1/2003

Awards:
Member of more than ten years. Third place in CoN European Cup fantasy game for 2011-2012. Member of more than five years. Second place in CoN European Cup, 2008. 
Winner of the 2004 Gogo Fanfiction contest. Major involvement in the Final Fantasy IV section of CoN. Contributed to the Chrono Trigger section of CoN. 
Chapter 3: Hero Shield.

The Black Mage surveyed the lines of defences. Bags of grain forming one outer wall, biscuit tins, overturned carts and more sacks forming an inner redoubt surrounding the church, and bundles of arrows positioned along the lines. A red line held the outer walls, and the officers moved around, ensuring each point was covered. The ultimate plan for the last stand was that the men would hold the church.

'Do you think they'll hold?' The Warrior asked.

'It is not a question of them holding, but of the Goblins failing to breach the defences. This will require luck as well as the skills of Chard and Bromhead in defence,' The Black Mage replied.

'And with our aid?' The Black Belt asked.

The Black Mage did not respond.

***

'Sheesh, those heroes are boring,' said Private Hook, looking out the hospital window. He and Private Hitch were in this room, and another 8 wounded or ill men lay in beds or sitting at tables cleaning their arrows.

Hook was assigned to the hospital specifically to defend it and lead the three other fit soldiers there, because the spare NCO's were all incompetent berks like Corporal Allens or Sergeant 'Megafone' Kelly. Hitch himself was only not an NCO because of poor luck on his part, every CO he was under was killed or otherwise removed by ill luck and replaced with an underling who without fail promoted his mates.

'And the people in here aren't?' asked Private Hitch.

'Oh, they have character, at least...'

'And names with more than six characters!' a man in a bed interrupted.

'...Such as Sergeant Fourthwall there. He babbles on and on to a script no one knows but him and god.'

'We're in the third chapter and the lazy bugger's only just introducing the secondary characters!' Fourthwall babbled.

'And there's Billy Boils. Got pus today, Billy?'

'Yep, three boils on me backside, but don't tell the surgeon...'

The White Mage entered.

'I heard someone say boils. Who was it?'

Billy tried to lie but within seconds he was screaming as she lanced the boils. With a hammer.

'...Well, Hooky, SHE'S not boring,' Hitch said.

'No, Hitch, she's terrifying.'

***

In the outhouse, the priest was raving.

'Death approaches! A torrent of aaargh aaargh aaargh pain approaches to stab you in the eyes and steal your teeth! From your wallets they will recover pictures of your wives and sweethearts and head round their houses and steal their panties!'

'They'd have trouble stealing Corporal Bass's sweetheart's panties. He's that way,' Sergeant Bourne said.

'That is a sin before god! Man shall not lie with - '

'Any more than six women at once, I know, sah.'

'...Wait, what?'

'Never mind that and be quiet, sir, you're tempting the lads.'

'Tempting them to what?'

'Stab you. As usual, reverend.'

***

Meanwhile, on the hill, the sentries saw something.

'Horde of zombies, horde of African tribesmen, horde of tyranids, horde of thingies... No Goblins.'

Suddenly, the distant sound of whooping and clanging metal.

'That sounds like them. We should warn the camp. We'll wave!'

***

'Sentries on the hill waving, sah!' Bourne yelled.

'Good, have they indicated how close the Goblins are?' Bromhead asked.

'Not yet sah... Oh, wait, there we go, they're running down the hill, sah... Followed by a tide of goblins... I think the Goblins might be here, sah...'

'Well, really?' Chard mused.

***

The two privates ran, and the Black Belt ran forth, leapt the redoubt, and was followed by a few soldiers. The small band ran towards the tide of Goblins, as the two sentries ran away.

The Black Belt punched a Goblin, and kicked at another, as the five solders plus sentries began to fire at the goblins with some help from the north wall. The Black Belt kicked and punched, hurling Goblins through the air, before he had the five others flee back to the redoubt. For some reason. Every other Goblin had stopped to watch this, as the Black Belt leapt back behind his lines

'North wall, form ranks of archers, fire on my mark!' Chard yelled as the horde moved again.

The troops did so. The Goblins halted, and also formed ranks.

'...What are they doing?' Bromhead asked.

The Black Mage walked over.

'They're copying you,' he replied.

'Why?'

'Because they're incredibly stupid. Have your rear rank fire first but have the first rank duck then stand up once they fire.

Bromhead issued those orders. A dozen goblins fell. They reformed rank, and their rear rank fired...

...the entire Goblin front rank all seemed to give a small squeak and shudder for a moment, before falling forward with arrows sticking from the back of their heads.

The Warrior cursed as the Orcoids* retreated after this Britishesque cockup.

'What's wrong?' Chard enquired.

'This was a feint. The Goblin leader was merely testing our bows!'

'I think he's found they work quite well so long as your men aren't in the way,' Bromhead pointed out.

'I mean numbers. Now he knows he outnumbers us.'

'He knew this before, surely?' Chard enquired.

'He's a goblin,' The Black Mage interjected. 'He can't count and needs some sort of physical sign to determine things like this.'

'Oh right. Not like Elves, who can count how many arrows you have, or Dwarves, who don't care because inevitably it won't stop them biting your legs orf,' Bromhead realised.

'You can't compare them to anything. A goblin is a small, smelly, vicious creature with no brains and a ruthless streak a mile long, and occasional bursts of cunning,' The White Mage reminded them.

'Really? Have you ever met a peasant, ma'am?'

'Game bird, big feathers, a bit posh?'

'That's a pheasant. '

'...Whatever,' she responded.

'Hang on, Squall didn't have tits... Unless you count Zell and Irvine.'

'PRIVATE BAAAAUER!'


*Probably not a real word.

This post has been edited by Del S on 16th May 2007 15:39

--------------------
"Only the dead have seen the end of their quotes being misattributed to Plato."
-George Santayana

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
-Abraham Lincoln, prior to the discovery of Irony.
Post #143651
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Posted: 29th April 2007 19:02

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Wavey Marle!
Posts: 2,098

Joined: 21/1/2003

Awards:
Member of more than ten years. Third place in CoN European Cup fantasy game for 2011-2012. Member of more than five years. Second place in CoN European Cup, 2008. 
Winner of the 2004 Gogo Fanfiction contest. Major involvement in the Final Fantasy IV section of CoN. Contributed to the Chrono Trigger section of CoN. 

Chapter 4: Actual Effort.

'Now then, men,' Bromhead said to the two sentries. 'What were the rough numbers of Goblins you saw?'

'Bloody hundreds, sah.'

'Was that a probe, do you think?'

'No, sah, looked more like a lot of Goblins.'

'Okay, thanks for that Private... Orf you go.'

'Captain!' The Warrior protested. 'He told you nothing at all!'

'He told me enough...'

'He didn't tell you solid numbers, force composition, direction of attack, or even if it was an attack force!'

'It's a Horde. You get 9 maximum then the minimum after that is 200.... I know Goblins, old boy.'

'Do you know any prayers to survive not having a clue what's out there?!' the Light Warrior almost screamed.

'I've got a crossbow.'

'Will it be enough?'

'I've also got a hundred of the finest soldiers on the planet.'

'Where are they then?'

***

'So, what happened, Hooky?'

'For the benefit of those injured and not looking out the windows, as in, you, Jones, the gobbos shot their front rank in the head and then ran away. The Captain is having a debate with a Light Warrior, and the Light Warrior looks annoyed. '

'This is really rather boring, isn't it...'

'It won't be so boring when they set fire to the place, Jones!'

'Someone go fetch more brandy for Sergeant Fourthwall. He's seeing those things he calls future chapters again...'

***

'Where are they likely to come from next?' Chard asked.

'Well, after that, the goblins will do a spot of arguing, then surge from all angles.'

'If we could control the flow, by having it come one direction, could we bottleneck them?' The Black Belt asked.

'Well, yes, but we'd need some sort of bait. Goblins like bright shiny things.'

'We could try retreating to that narrow pass in the valley a few miles away. The walls of the valley along with the old defences there will funnel the orks towards us, and we can use our superior training there, for the tight confines would render their numbers null and void. So long as we keep an eye on the goat path, we should be safe,' The Warrior suggested.

'No,' Bromhead declared. 'We do not abandon our positions. And anyway, that valley collapsed a week ago.'

'What? How?'

'Let me put it this way. Last week Chard had three hundred tonnes of gunpowder. Now he has three.'

'...Why did he blow up a perfect natural defence formation?' The Black Mage asked.

'Because it's in someone else's country, not ours,' Chard responded.

At that moment, The Warrior threw a punch, and Bromhead smashed a vase over his head.

***

The Goblin Horde, at that moment, decided to come over the hill towards a completely unprepared set of defenders. They were halfway to the walls when Bromhead shouted towards them.

'I say, we're not quite ready yet chaps, no rush 20?'

The Horde halted, and turned around, except for a few that charged forth and were promptly shot.

The Warrior staggered to his feet.

'What happened there?'

'Easy. This,' Bromhead said, and smashed another vase on the warrior's head. He fell, burbling.

***

After a few moments of running around in circles waving vases at people, Bromhead and Chard soon had defences ready, and just in time, as the whooping goblins approached once more

'Remember! Fire only upon my orders, and if I say fire at will...'

The entire farm was filled with the twang of crossbows being fired.

'...Wait until your target is 100 yards away before you fire when it's not a volley and wait until I say fire at will as a statement of it's own accord and not a fragment of a sentence or speech,' Chard said.

'Why, sir?'

'Because as you'll all note, there is now a small line of arrows a hundred yards from the walls as a result of your premature volley,' Bromhead pointed out.

'Fnar fnar, premature volley.'

'PRIVATE BAAUER!'

The Goblins began pouring down the hills.

'First ranks, take aim... Targets, three hundred yards and closing... Prepare volley fire... First rank, FIRE! Second rank, WAIT FOR THE FIRST RANK TO DUCK, FIRE!' Bromhead ordered. A steady stream of arrows flew over the walls, into the advancing crowds of Goblins, but the casualties were soaked up by the crazed creatures. They were now two hundred yards away and the huge horde seemed unstoppable.

One Hundred and Fifty yards. Still coming strong.

One Hundred yards. Arrows firing along straight lines now. And the goblins...

Tripped over the arrows from before. Within seconds, goblins tripped over other goblins and the bewildered defenders saw hundreds of goblins crushed under the feet of the advancing hordes. And as they kept tripping, stumbling, and being crushed to death, the goblins apparently seemed to realise this had all gone wrong, and ran away.

'What just happened?' The Warrior asked, awakening again to see a pile of hundreds of goblin corpses scattered roughly a hundred yards away.

'I suppose I could properly explain it all, but it gives me more pleasure to do this,' Bromhead responded to the dazed Light Warrior, and smashed a vase on his head.

'Where do you keep finding those?' Chard asked.

'Didn't you know there used to be a pottery on this farm?'

'No, I did not. Learn something new every day...'

--------------------
"Only the dead have seen the end of their quotes being misattributed to Plato."
-George Santayana

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
-Abraham Lincoln, prior to the discovery of Irony.
Post #149112
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Posted: 16th May 2007 14:38

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Wavey Marle!
Posts: 2,098

Joined: 21/1/2003

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Member of more than ten years. Third place in CoN European Cup fantasy game for 2011-2012. Member of more than five years. Second place in CoN European Cup, 2008. 
Winner of the 2004 Gogo Fanfiction contest. Major involvement in the Final Fantasy IV section of CoN. Contributed to the Chrono Trigger section of CoN. 
Chapter 5: Madness

'Bromhead, for the god's sake, retreat! Your men's lives are not worth this madness!' The Warrior urged, having ensured the officer had run out of crockery.

'I thought you warriors were all about courage and hard headness, just like the army,' Bromhead responded. 'And anyway, Chard's in charge.'

'But these are your men! He's an engineer, he's too set in the ways of textbooks and mathematics to think in terms of reality!'

'I'm standing right here also.'

'I know. But either way, to stand here in the face of this horde is nothing short of madness!'

'Madness?'

'Yes!'

'So, you're sort of saying that this is blasphemy, that no man, Cornelian or Orc, would stand here in face of certain death? That this is madness?'

'I'm not standing in front of a well, am I?'

'Nope.'

'Then yes, this is madness! Insanity! Not sensible! Illogical! Pointless! Barmy!'

'Yes, we get the point,' Chard said.

'So you'll listen to reason, retreat to the hills and engage them in ambush warfare?'

'You think it madness, but they threaten our people with slavery and death! This horde must be halted by someone, and you would have us flee and abandon the smaller villages in their path to destruction? Forget it, Warrior! This is Cornelia!'

The Warrior fumed, and walked over to the other side of the defences. The other warriors apart from the Black Belt followed.

'Bromhead, Chard. You two have courage, for sure, but he speaks the truth. It is a fine line between bravery and madness, and few wish to walk such a tightrope. When it comes to it, what makes you certain your men will not see reality and flee?'

'Well, when I explain it all to them, they'll probably stay...' Chard said. Bromhead attempted to distance himself from the Engineer.

***

'So that's why we have to stand and fight here. Any questions?' Chard said, having explained the mission to his men.

'WILL WE GET ANY BONUSES FOR THIS ACTION IF WE SURVIVE?'

'Yes, I imagine so, Sergeant Kelly,' Bromhead responded. 'You there,' he picked out a private.

'Is it true there's a place on a Goblin's head that if you hit it with an arrow, it'll explode?' Private Bauer enquired.

'PRIVATE BAAAAUER! THAT'S MOUNTAIN ORCS! AND THE HEAD GROWS BACK!'

'Thank you, Corporal Allen.'

'Do you have any NCO's that don't shout?' The Black Mage asked.

'NO!' All responded.

'Not unless we promote Private Hook.'

'ARE WE?'

'No, Sergeant Kelly.'

'WE COULD USE AN EXTRA CORPORAL THOUGH!' Sergeant Bourne added.

'Good gods, man, I'm right beside you, no need to shout!' Chard complained

'JUST MAKING SURE THEY CAN HEAR ME AT THE BACK, SAH!'

'They can bloody hear you back in the palace, never mind the sodding back of the farm!'

'Anyway, bugger shouting for now, we are men of Cornelia, are we not? We've got red on us!' Bromhead pipped up.

The soldiers cheered.

'I say,' the Black Belt pipped up 'Didn't you say earlier we had three tonnes of gunpowder?'

***

In the end, it was decided they did not have enough stripes to sew onto Hook's jacket, but if he survived they'd recommend him for promotion.

The Goblins were charging once again, the last men who had been digging trenches 200 yards from the defences fleeing backwards past the lines of fuses. As the horde neared the trenches, the sparkles raced down the fuses towards them.

Had the Goblin attacking held an ounce of intelligence between them, they'd have noted every single soldier hid below any available cover and biscuit tins.

The fuses spluttered their path to the trenches as the horde began running over them. And then, the first fuse hit home.

A cloud of smoke and dust, hurling screaming goblins into the air, followed by further explosions. The gunpowder traps sliced vast holes in the goblin ranks, and the sheer surprise of the attack seemed to cause this wave to fall into disarray. The horde turned...

...but standing in their way was a Goblin so tall and muscular he was more of a very small Orc than a very big Goblin. Beside him, other Goblins of similar stature, but somewhat smaller, stood. The babbling horde turned around again.

'Oh bollocks, a Goblin Lord!' The warrior said, standing atop a large pile of sandbags.

'I say, Chard, where the hell did that huge pile of sandbags come from, and where's the outhouse?'

'Oh damn, we never told the men to stop walling the priest in.'

***

The horde neared. The arrows were released. The horde absorbed the casualties. Those who turned ran into their lord. They slowly advanced, attempting to retreat after each volley, only to turn again.

'Fire at will!' Bromhead yelled, as they reached 50 yards. Every crossbow turned to face a hapless private.

'I mean, fire freely at the goblins, you morons!'

***

'How can they do it?' The Warrior asked, standing beside his comrades as the Black Mage hurled magical energies at the horde.

'Do what?' The Black Belt asked.

'Simply stand here and face certain death.'

'Well, we're doing it, aren't we?' The Black Mage said.

'We aren't. We are destined to survive this. How can mere peasants who joined because there was a uniform and free food not wish to flee in the face of this?'

'Well, for starters, You've got to remember that these are just simple soldiers. These are people of patriotism. The common clay of Cornelia. You know...morons. Second, they have been doing well so far. This is the third attack and they've still not reached the walls proper.'

As if to disprove the point, a few goblins landed on the walls.

'They don't count, they were from the explosions earlier.'

***

The Goblins now milled a mere 25 yards from the walls, random arrows from their masses flying off wildly into nothing. The Cornelian fire however kept pouring in, even the most random of shots striking a target.

'Alrite, you filthy gobbos, quit yer screamin and chop dem 'umies!' Berkses screamed. An arrow flew towards his open mouth. The Goblin Lord simply ate it.

***

The 25 yards shrank in seconds, and Goblin spears were thrust forth. The Cornelian soldiers parried, and returned the favours with more precise and deadly sword blows. Then came the flyers.

Larger goblins hurled the smaller goblins from within the horde, screaming and flying through the air onto the defences. Most landed badly, on heads and soon-to-be-broken legs. Piles of Goblin bodies were made in front of the defenders, and a smaller pile behind as the airborne goblins landed violently, often on the spears of those already splattered onto the ground or onto the heads of those who lived. But even a Goblin Lord can tire of pointless death with no results, and he yelled the retreat.

Hundreds of Goblins lay dead, for barely a few cuts and bruises for the defenders.

***

'We should chase them!' a private shouted.

'We do that, lad, and they surround us and rip us apart. No, we stay here, we have our defences,' Bourne said.

Inside the hospital, the four defending soldiers were preparing loopholes in the walls facing the horde. Along the walls, the bodies of the goblin dead were being moved out to the 25 yard line to provide something for the goblins to fall on.

'If we can get enough of them, you know, we might just make the entire hundred yards impossible for them to run across!' Chard beamed.

'Except we have a slight problem, sah. We've only got a thousand arrows left,' Bourne announced. Chard swore.

'Even with recovered bolts?'

'Yes sah. Most of the shafts of the arrows get snapped when the horde tramples the bodies. And the goblin arrows are too inaccurate in our bows. Watch,' he said, aiming a goblin arrow in his bow, at a bird on a tree. The arrow flew directly upwards and shot down three others.

'Hmm, looks like those three seagulls got shafted, oho!'

Nothing.

'Oh come on sarge, that was smutty!'

'Shut it, Private Bauer!'

This post has been edited by Del S on 18th May 2007 00:09

--------------------
"Only the dead have seen the end of their quotes being misattributed to Plato."
-George Santayana

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
-Abraham Lincoln, prior to the discovery of Irony.
Post #150023
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Posted: 18th May 2007 00:07

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Wavey Marle!
Posts: 2,098

Joined: 21/1/2003

Awards:
Member of more than ten years. Third place in CoN European Cup fantasy game for 2011-2012. Member of more than five years. Second place in CoN European Cup, 2008. 
Winner of the 2004 Gogo Fanfiction contest. Major involvement in the Final Fantasy IV section of CoN. Contributed to the Chrono Trigger section of CoN. 

Chapter 6: A Proverbial Goat Path

'So, you're running low on ammunition. Our Black Mage runs low on mana,' The Warrior said, apparently to himself.

'Yes, and to make matters worse, we've killed mostly Grunts, few Sergeants, and almost no Captains. To fight Goblins, you need to erode their command structure,' Bromhead eavesdropped in on The Warrior's conversation.

'Well, of course. Goblin grunts either instinctively dive in front of arrows aimed at bigger grunts, or the sergeants and captains simply pick up smaller goblins for use as shields,' Black Belt pointed out

'It doesn't matter anyway, we can hold them with the sword, shield and spear in the end.' Chard mused.

'You really believe that?' The Warrior enquired.

'Look, I might believe in things that look barmy, but at least I'm not holding down L2 and R2!'

'Pardon?'

'All day, it's been "retreat" with you, "Flee to the hills and ambush them", never has it been "We can make our stand here", not once. Why?'

'Because I know the difference between bravery and suicide! I explained earlier!'

'Then you do not know Cornelian dictionary definitions! In situations like this, they both mean the same thing!'

'That makes no sense.'

'Neither does your codpiece you pillock!' Bromhead said, and smashed a plate over The Warrior's head, who promptly collapsed.

'And though we may be stupid enough to face certain death, at least we've got a helmet each!' Bourne interjected.

'Thank you for the assistance men, but I was sure I was going to win that debate...'

'Nonsense,' The Black Belt said 'If you hit him enough you might just drive him berserk. In which case, point and shoot. The goblins will know what hit them, because he'll come back to tell them it was him.'

'Though from a medical view, it may not be so smart to keep smashing things over his head,' The White Mage said.

'Nonsense, ma'am, we have plenty of crockery left.'

'That's not even on the same line of the conversation as what I mean.'

***

'Men, conserve your arrows! Make sure every shot counts, for we are running low! When the first wall cannot hold, we quickly retreat to the second wall! Though I'm pleased to remind you, a sword has infinite ammuntion!' Chard yelled, as the horde began another attack run downhill. His plan for an outer wall of corpses had failed, as the dead bodies had been trampled flat, and Chard was now reduced to his original outer wall, and his inner wall of overturned carts surrounding the church.

'Er, mine doesn't, sir, can I get a new magazine?'

'PRIVATE Baaaue...r. Good god man, how the hell did you get a sword like that?'

'Found it in a chest in a dungeon.'

'Look, the point is, stab the bastards when you run out of arrows!' The Black Belt assisted.

'Oh, right, gotcha.'

***

The horde hit home. Though the volleys of arrows had reaped the usual toll on the attackers, they were now at sword's length.

And then, Chard noticed something.

'I say, isn't that a horde of Sergeants and Captains heading for the hospital?'

***

'Oh crap, Hooky, there's bigger goblins coming right for us!' A private said, staring out his loophole.

'I can solve that problem!' a wounded soldier said, hopping up and lobbing a paraffin lamp out the window.

'Oh, brilliant, private, now there's bigger burning goblins coming right for us,' Hooky groaned.

***

'Warrior! Black Belt! The hospital, now!' The White Mage screamed, as she whacked a goblin in the face with her stave. The two fighters responded.

They ran in, as Goblins began hopping onto the roof.

***

'Okay, we've got the burning ones dead, what now?' Private Hitch asked.

Hooky fired a crossbow into the air. A goblin fell through the roof.

'Looks like the only way is up for us, lads! ON ME!' the courageous private ordered, climbing a ladder to the roof. There, he found two goblin captains nearing the hole. He leapt forth, decapitating one and slicing the legs out from under the other. Two other men had followed him up, and alone, the three fought the horde back from the roof.

Inside, however, one had entered the storeroom. The Warrior found it.

'Aha! Prepare to die, knave!'

'Wot?' the goblin asked, bemused.

The Warrior swiped. The Goblin ducked. The Warrior sliced through a support beam. The roof fell in, as did a large number of goblins.

'Ah. Shit.' The Warrior said, and ran out of the now goblin-filled room. As an afterthought, he locked the door. However, though the door was sturdy, the wall was not, and the goblins began stabbing the plaster, slowly chipping through.

***

On the roof, Hooky stared at the cave in.

'Damn it, they've fell into the storeroom! They'll be in the wards in no time!'

Hooky leapt down the ladder.

'Everyone out!'

'What's the situation, Hooky?' Private Jones asked

'Dozens of goblins and a feckload of cutlery about to come through the wall!

As if on cue, a spear rammed through the wall and impaled a hapless wounded soldier.

'They're coming out of the walls!' someone yelled.

'Quick, everyone in here, chip through into the next ward through the wall. I'll hold them back!'

All the men in bed staggered out and began assisting the three able bodied soldiers, and began making their way through. As the last entered the small hole that had been made, the goblins broke through. Hooky then shoved the bunk beds over, crushing a few goblins, before leaping through the hole himself

'I thought you were going to hold them back?' Jones asked.

'Yeah, at THIS hole! Everyone get the hell out, now!'

'Hooky, how dare you breach regulations by holding two crossbows at once!' Sergeant Forthwall yelled.

'Not doing it yet sarge, but it's a bloody good idea.'

***

The Warrior had ran out of the hospital and stood beside the White Mage as the goblin attack smashed into the front lines.

'I told you to help Black Belt and the men in the hospital!'

'Oh, er, they don't need me in there, holding their own, going fine.'

The roof then caught fire.

'Plus it's on fire. I'm wearing ice armour. Can't wear ice armour in a fire.'

***

Hooky cursed as the smoke began filling the room. His crossbow bolts had ran out, though the abandoned ward was now full of dead and dying goblins.

***
The Horde began to win the struggle to get over the walls, despite the valiant efforts of the soldiers there.

'Men! Retreat to the second defences! Our archers there will provide cover!' Chard screamed. The soldiers enacted a disciplined fall back, walking quickly backwards, stabbing at the enemy, before not-so-disciplinedly leaping over the pile of sacks and wood. However, as the men retreated from the first wall, there were inevitable stragglers, amongst them, the company cook. As the goblins stabbed the two privates who had not quite been able to run fast enough in the back, Cooky tripped.

He stood back up, surrounded by the horde. Armed only with a meat cleaver, he prepared to sell his life dearly. One goblin ran forth, and he disembowelled the creature. Another was decapitated by his attacks. The next was sliced in half from crotch to head.

Then the goblins figured out they outnumbered him and swarmed over him, whooping, hollering, and randomly stabbing.

'Cooky's bought it!'

'Oh no! Not Hooky!'

'Er, no, Gonville, COOKY.'

'Oh, thank the gods, I thought we'd lost someone who'd have an effect on morale! DO YOU HEAR THAT MEN? THE GOBLINS HAVE OBLIGIED AND KILLED THE COOK!'

'AROO!' came the pleased response from the men as they stabbed goblins in the face.

'You motherf-AAAARGH,' Cooky screamed, as a goblin attempted to remove his teeth via his anus.

***

The flames meanwhile had grown to the stage that even a slightly mad/courageous soldier was thinking of retreat. However, Hooky was extremely mad/courageous. A Goblin had torn his shirt.

***

The wounded had almost all been transferred from the hospital to the church, and as the walking wounded and those able to fight helped hold the goblins back. Only Hooky, an unconscious private, and Sergeant Forthwall remained inside the blazing hospital, Hooky fighting the goblins, and Forthwall, babbling away.

Jones ran back in.

'Hooky, let's get going!'

'You get that man out!' Hooky said, referring to the unconscious man. Jones grabbed his legs and began dragging him.

'What about you and Fourthwall?'

'He can make it out himself. '

'Ah, but Hooky, the roof, the roof, the roof is on fire!'

'Yes Sarge! Have you just noticed?'

'Knew it was going to happen this morning, remember?'

'Well, what the hell happens next, sarge?'

'Oh, easy. Jones leaves with Private Simpson there, a burning goblin will come through from the other ward and then the chapter ends!'

Hooky saw the first part, and wondered for a second what the hell was going on inside the mad NCO's head. A burning goblin then indeed entered.



--------------------
"Only the dead have seen the end of their quotes being misattributed to Plato."
-George Santayana

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
-Abraham Lincoln, prior to the discovery of Irony.
Post #150111
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Posted: 18th May 2007 15:20

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Wavey Marle!
Posts: 2,098

Joined: 21/1/2003

Awards:
Member of more than ten years. Third place in CoN European Cup fantasy game for 2011-2012. Member of more than five years. Second place in CoN European Cup, 2008. 
Winner of the 2004 Gogo Fanfiction contest. Major involvement in the Final Fantasy IV section of CoN. Contributed to the Chrono Trigger section of CoN. 

Chapter 7: Fire!

Outside, the horde was continuing the relentless assault.

'Bromhead! Who are the three best shots with the crossbow?' Chard yelled across the din of battle.

'Baker, Bauer, and I suppose Hooky, but Hooky's still in the hospital!'

'The one that's on fire?'

'What other hospital is there?'

'Good point old boy! What's the plan anyway?'

'Three men on the church tower with crossbows to eliminate the larger goblins, throw the small ones into disarray!'

'Sounds workable, but we'd need a third man without Hooky. Watch yourself there,' Bromhead said, grabbing his own bow and shooting a distant Goblin archer, whose arrow clanged into the biscuit tin Card stood beside. Chard stared at it for a fleeting moment, then, after spearing a hapless goblin, resume the conversation.

'Bromhead, how about you be the third crossbowman?'

'And miss all this fun?' the other officer said, decapitating a goblin with a well placed sword strike.

'We'll see if that black mage has any magic left up his sleeve, get him to pick a few off if he does.'

***

As Bromhead and the two other archers made their way to the church tower, the black mage joined them, a few tricks literally left up his sleeve. Berkses himself stood atop a pile of his own dead troops, surveying the battle, and snacking on any arrows that came his way.

Meanwhile, the hospital was lit up by an explosion within...

***

Hooky swiped at the goblin, dispatching the screaming creature with ease. The next was not aflame, and had Hooky not ducked, the spear would have ended his heroic stand there and then. Hooky returned the favour with an increase degree of precision.

'Sarge! Come on, you mad bastard, get up and get out of here!'

'I am still your sergeant, Hook, hero of the hour elect or not!' Fourthwall yelled from his singeing bed.

'Oh, sorry, come on you mad bastard, Sarge.'

'Better. Anyway, I can't come, it changes fate.'

'What do you mean, Sarge?' Hooky asked, keeping a close eye on the flames and the hole, alert for any further goblin attempts to breach the room.

'Well, if I'm not here then what I see isn't true, is it?'

'What did you see then, Sarge?'

'You want to know?'

'Yes!'

'Really sure about that?' Fourthwall pressed on

'YES!'

'Well, this bunk bed wot I am sitting on the top bunk of here, is going to collapse, I am going to give a scream of agony as the room suddenly bursts into flames, large quantities of which are going to be centred around this collapsing bed wot I am on right now, then you'll be forced back by the flames when that alcohol lamp over there explodes and sets the rest of the place on fire. Hang on a second, that sounds a bit painful-' Fourthwall said, but was interrupted by his vision being enacted to the letter with the exception that the exploding lamp BLEW Hooky out of the room.

Picking himself up in the thankfully not-yet-totally-on-fire corridor outside, he initially felt shock at the failure to rescue Fourthwall, before professionalism took hold of him. Then confusion at why such a small lantern had caused so huge an explosion. Shaking the thoughts from his head, he made for the door...

***

'Bloody hell, what was that?' Chard asked, having missed what had blew up. He turned in time to see the hospital finish it's explosion, and the door burst open to reveal a slightly singed Hooky burst forth, slicing apart a few goblins in his path before racing to the officer.

'Sorry to report we've lost the hospital, Sergeant Fourthwall and Private Fletcher, sah!'

'Yes, private, I noticed the first part,' Chard said. At that moment, the first crossbow and magical bolts spat forth from the church tower, picking off four of the goblin leaders.

***

'Dem humies is shootin' at us, boss!' a sergeant yelled as a captain beside him was shot down.

'Well, den, shoot back!' Berkses hollered, picking up two crossbows and firing wildly. Goblin archers took aim at the tower.

***

Despite the arrows clanging off the walls, the three soldiers and the mage kept their firing steady. The mage prepared the last of his magical energy in a large fire spell, hurled towards Berkses himself, as the archers returned fire to their goblin counterparts.

The fireball was loosed. If it killed the warlord there and then, it would end this battle. It sailed through the air...

...Berkses simply punched the bolt of energy with a feral scream, smashing the magics into the air and immolating the goblins surrounding him for twenty yards. At the middle of the carnage, he stood without even scorched eyebrows.

An arrow then went through his ear, and the goblin lord howled with rage. Screaming a fearsome warcry, a dozen captains and twice that many sergeants leapt from the horde and joined on their boss. The warlord and his bodyguard charged forth...

***

'I think we made him angry,' Chard said, as the warlord smashed through his own ranks to reach the human defenders. Chard shouted to form a shield wall facing the oncoming elites.

However, the horde had fallen in number here, only a few dozen remaining goblins alive, and these began to flee. Berkses was mere seconds from slamming into the defenders, when he noticed this.

'CRAP! Back to da hill! Wez not got enough 'ta stomp 'em just yet!'

The entire goblin force still within the walls turned and ran.

'After them to the outer wall, men! Cut down as many sergeants and captains as possible!' Bromhead screamed, vaulting the wall first. He turned to his men quickly.

Today, no Cornelian dies!'.

'Sah, we already lost six men this morning building the bridge and the road, plus about four on the walls so far, and at least two from the hospital!' Bourne pointed out

'...No one else then. Now move your arses!'

***

The sun was setting, as the men hurriedly reinforced the central keep with what debris they could spare from the largely destroyed outer wall.

'We should be ready for night attacks. The fire will attract the goblins,' The Warrior said. He'd managed to do his part, though he had discovered that he had claimed less Goblins than Private Hooky.

'How many did we lose today?' Bromhead enquired.

'Casualties were light. We've patched up about twenty wounded men, and we've only had nine killed today, three of them in the hospital,' Bourne replied.

'Three?' Chard asked. He'd known only of two.

'Jones dragged a man out, sah, the man died an hour ago.'

Chard stayed silent for a few moments. The others did too, the sounds of the burning hospital crackling seemingly all there was in the world.

'The horde nears breaking point, though. That charge by their warlord showed it. As their numbers fall, the larger ones grown more aggressive. When they reach about a quarter of the original force, they flee,' The Black Belt said, breaking the silence.

'But if their lord falls...' Bromhead said, his statement hanging in the air.

'It breaks them. But magic has little effect, and anyway, without rest, the mages are unable to help us,' The Warrior pointed out.

'Then I suppose we're back to the traditional ways of the Cornelian army. Blood and steel. As night falls, we'd just waste what few arrows we have so we'll be having to take a few stabs in the dark instead.'

'I suppose so,' the light warrior agreed.

The whooping from the hills indicated the first attack of the evening was coming.

'Tell the men to get ready, Sergeant Bourne, we're in for one wild night,' Chard said grimly, readying his crossbow.

--------------------
"Only the dead have seen the end of their quotes being misattributed to Plato."
-George Santayana

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
-Abraham Lincoln, prior to the discovery of Irony.
Post #150149
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Posted: 25th May 2007 13:53

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Wavey Marle!
Posts: 2,098

Joined: 21/1/2003

Awards:
Member of more than ten years. Third place in CoN European Cup fantasy game for 2011-2012. Member of more than five years. Second place in CoN European Cup, 2008. 
Winner of the 2004 Gogo Fanfiction contest. Major involvement in the Final Fantasy IV section of CoN. Contributed to the Chrono Trigger section of CoN. 
Chapter 8: A New Dawn

As the sun rose, Chard awoke, sitting by the church door.

'How long was I asleep?' he asked Hooky.

'A couple of hours, sir. It's been quiet for a few.'

The officer stood up, and marched over to the walls. Piles of goblin dead still surrounded the defences.

'Have they maybe run off?' he asked. The Black Belt shook his head.

'It appears not. They should have broken on the second assault last night, but as you'll recall, they gave us two more.'

'Their numbers must now be low?'

'Yes. I'd wager if we can hold against the last, you might have won your private war, Chard.'

'It's neither mine nor private,' the captain responded. 'Sergeant Bourne, what's the crossbow situation?'

'As per your orders, sah, the last working ones have been put in the tower with the last arrows. Captain Bromhead is commanding the bowmen, and two of the wounded have offered to help keep the bows loaded.'

'Each man has at least three bows loaded and ready?'

'Afraid not, sah. Only 19 bows still intact. Strings have snapped on the rest. They have had a lot of use, sah.'

'It'll have to do, I suppose. That Black Mage able to cast anything yet?'

'Afraid not, sah. But it turns out he's handy with a bow himself.

***

Bromhead stood in the church tower, the last few dozen arrows and working crossbows sitting there alongside a half dozen archers.

'So, Bromhead, why did you join the military?' The Black Mage asked.

'Tradition, I suppose. My father, my grandfathers... All of them were in command for at least one famous Cornelian battle. True, Grandfather Hungerford, on my mother's side was at six and somehow lost seven, but we've generally won them. Even when we used the traditional rules.'

'Subtract your casualties from the enemy, if the number is positive...'

'Chase the bastards and make it a bigger number.'

'Ah,' The Black Mage realised. 'Traditional Cornelian rules for how to win a battle.'

'Anyway, I've been at three battles. And never even saw a corpse in one. First one at Thermolunderweear, Major Cocké-Uppe got us lost and we wound up trying to ambush a passing cart driver three weeks after the battle. At Glomb River Bridge, Major Malfunction wound up in charge after the General's wife made him go home to clean the dishes, and decided that since the bridge was the battlefield that if he blew it up, he'd win. At Hurtslots Forest, we attacked to discover that the logging season had cut down the army of Dryads we were meant to fight and burnt them as winter fuel. Apparently, the request for soldiers had lain unopened on the King's desk for the entire winter. I've spent most of my seven years in the army writing letters about training accidents my superiors couldn't be arsed to sign. This is number four, and it's the first one I've seen any action,' the Cornelian Officer mused,.

'It can get a bit hairy out there though. What you'll want now is a nice desk job I imagine. That's what I'd do if I got sod all killing. Especially if I was under Major Malfunction. Is he still a soldier?'

'Oh yes. General Malfunction now. In fact, he's in overall command of this campaign.'

'That doesn't surprise me for some reason...' the Mage muttered.

The hills echoed with the whoop of the next goblin attack then, and the men below raced to the walls.

'Oh well. Looks like it's another day in the office. ARCHERS, PREPARE BOWS!'

***

They charged at a ferocious speed. The entire remainder of Berkses horde. Like an oncoming storm, they raced towards the defenders, ignoring the casualties as they reached the range of the bows.

Unfortunately for the goblin warlord, he had also ignored that he was down to fifty goblins.

The defenders watched as the numbers dwindled, the berserk lord racing forth, ignoring the arrows striking him.

He leapt the outer wall. And then stopped. Every other goblin lay dead, and he now faced seventy five humans alone.

'Ah. Er, um... Kan I maybe interest yoo humies in some goblin fertaliza? Just bung it on yer flowers and when even da flies think it stinks yer roses come up a treat?

The archers in the tower shot his kneecaps. Chard walked forward and personally decapitated the warlord.

'Doo dee dee doo doo dee doo dee doo!'

'PRIVATE BAUEEER! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT VICTORY THEMES?!'

***

A few hours later, it emerged that for 5000 goblins, the hundred defenders had lost only 15 soldiers during the battle. The goblin dead were piled up some distance from the walls, and though the pile was almost taller than the church, hundreds still littered the battlefield.

'...I just realised something, John,' Bromhead announced.

'What's that, Gonville? The futility of war? The suffering man can inflict on other life? You forgot to change socks this morning? Something else?'

'Something else. We, er, had no actual orders to stay here, as such, did we? Oh, and I did actually forget to change socks cos it may have escaped your attention that we were in the middle of a sodding battle.'

'Your point being?'

'Well... Really, all that had us stay was those four light warriors coming along and telling us Goblins were coming. We, er, really had no reason to stand and fight. Apart from the logical conclusion they might turn around and run into our country, but they seemed to be heading north...'

'You're right. We didn't,' Chard realised with horror. A messenger approached, his horse stamping carelessly on the Goblin corpses.

'Beg your pardon, sir, orders for the garrison at Orc's Drift regarding the incoming Goblins,' he said from the back of his horse.

'The ones we just defeated via wiping out all 5000 with losses of our own amounting to 15 plus a priest buried under a large pile of sandbags and a further six men killed prior to the battle?'

'...Yes, sir. I did not expect to find this sight, let me tell you. Why, when I left Islawhanda, we were getting slaughtered.'

'You came from Islawhanda? Why did it take you so long to arrive?'

'Got lost and stopped at a Burger King on the highway for a snack, sir, long queue and no Whoppers ready. Anyway, they, the orders, are as follows: "Captain Bromhead... Run like buggery, there's Goblins. Thousands of them. Would run the other way with remaining forces to draw Goblins away from your post but sadly there are Goblins in the way. P.S, cannot sign order to execute your cook now...", though I hear he got his teeth ripped out his arsehole, nasty way to go even for a man from the catering corps, sah. Anyway, letter carries on, "...this is my last bit of paper because I made a rude banner to tell the Goblins they smell, sorry. Doomedly, General E. Buggered." And that's it. It's true about the banner sir, a very nice one, even had a large diagram saying Goblins are gay.'

'...Retreat?' Chard said.

'Yes, sir.'

'...Our orders were to retreat?' Bromhead followed.

'Seems so, sir.'

Both Captains stared at the man for a few seconds, then each other, and came to a consensus.

'Buggeration.'

'I say,' The White Mage asked. 'Can you chaps finish our bloody bridge now?'

'A bloody bridge ma'am? Certainly!' Chard beamed. 'I'll take charge, Bromhead, you go help them ready the wounded to leave tonight...'

***

As the victorious army marched back to Cornelia, Bromhead was curious about something.

'I say, Chard. How did you manage to clear the Goblin bodies away and build the bridge in eight hours?'

'What do you think I built the damn bridge with?'

'A tad unorthodox.'

'They ordered me to build a bridge, not kill 5000 goblins. I just managed to work the goblins into the order, that's all. They want a stronger bridge that won't rot away they can send someone else.'

***

At the Bridge

'I'm all for recycling, but Chard was just taking the piss here,' The White Mage said.

'This bridge is rotten, ho ho!' The Warrior joked, as they reached the opposite shore. But in the middle of the bridge, built from the goblin horde that had attacked Orc's Drift, the bodies stirred, and Berkses leapt up.

'Alright you humies, I'm comin' for revenge! I'm gonna knock youz all down!'

It was only then he appeared to realise most of his head was ninety feet away from the rest of his corpse, and he finally died.

Epilogue

The light warriors advanced to their adventure, saving the world and vowing to try and not mention the fact The Warrior had mostly fought like a girl throughout the whole battle of Orc's Drift, before all three males were kicked in the testicles and told girls could fight quite well actually by The White Mage.

Bromhead and Chard received promotions, medals, and a stark warning never to make the army look good again. Fifteen other men received medals and promotions.

No one bothered to dig the priest out from the pile of sandbags, but an act of the Gods promptly assisted him. Unfortunately, during Hurricane Peter, the pile of sandbags was whipped up and eventually fell in a volcano, along with the priest.

But the green tide was ready to return, if not at a moment's notice then at quite a rapid speed. They might stop on the way for something to eat or maybe wait to see the last few minutes of a programme on television or something, but they were ready to return.

This post has been edited by Del S on 4th June 2007 14:10

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"Only the dead have seen the end of their quotes being misattributed to Plato."
-George Santayana

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
-Abraham Lincoln, prior to the discovery of Irony.
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