You agree on the offer of your master. After all, by observing how he's doing, you might even learn the intricate rune pattern to create your own stone guardians...
>>5405201>64 : moderate success.You fly back with your master to the place you first met, the almost-fallen hold of him, where his kin was tainted after a battle.
You let him in for a couple day, while you hunt and fend for yourself. You wonder what Hector is doing right now...
n the west, a village lay, a day south of the city that requires a purge.
That village is similar to the one east of your home. Same wooden fence, same houses, same kind of people inside.
Peasants, loyal to a Kingdom for which they are a line in record, provider of grain among ten of thousands of similar places. That village, however, is under assault of a Waagh! . A small one, almost evenly matched by the defenser of the village : a handful of archers, peasants with pitchforks, a few men that survived call to arms and bringing the sword, shield and mail home in hope to save enough to grant their strongest child an horse and a chance at knighthood. This men are outnumbered almost four to one, with almost four scores of invaders : ten iron-fitted orcs, with archers and a shaman, goblins meat shields and snortling canon fodders.
The sun is setting on the west. Greenskins are ready to rush to battle. Illuminated by the sun, a group of ten knights in armor waited this exact moment to charge. Maybe dispelling the warband will prove a worthy enough feat of arms? Their leader wonder, before his head get splitted from his body by the oversized axe the nastiest looking orcs is sporting. While his remaining men reconsider their life choices, and if glory was not a tad like tiptoeing at the edge of a cliff in this world where the natural selection far from requires an helping hand, a second source of light, coming from the west, blinds orks and human alike.
>Light blade trigger>>5402910>Not-critical 110 (missed crit range by 5)Two men, rideless, and their flying animal companion shows from the other side of a battlefield. A stone fly through the air, and knocks out the shaman. Then, the most armored one starts running into the closest goblin pack.
"Madness", think the villagers. "Opportunity", think the knights seeing their foes losing focus. "RUUUMMMBBBLEEE!" think the goblins. An easy fight, twenty against one. Their favorite odds.
>Unstoppable force triggerUntil the Warrior mow down five of them in one devastating blow. The remaining goblins gaze hesitantly at each other, only for two of them to get mauled to death by the ball of fur and spite that proves himself way more than a simple mascot.
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