P
Pwyiw TwoFace
Guest
After once more falling behind the main army of Albion last night ( <sighs> ), and watching those near be being cut down by a roaming Midgardian warparty, I tried to find my way south to Grallarhorn. I got a few frights when guard patrols came close to me, but my stealth held true and I made it to Yggdra. On my way, I heard of many deaths and realised that the army had been slain, I was all alone.
At first, I didn't know where I was. Then I saw this mass of undead around some stones and realised this must be the fabled Undead Camp. But alas, there were no Midgardians to see. So I stalked around, and saw a few Midgardians further down a valley, but then I saw what had to be the frontier keep. I was now in grave danger. I watched as two Midgardians battle this ogre type beast and watched others slay white ponies. Many were more powerful than I.
I took a closer examination of a Troll Shaman and a Norse Bezerker, and found that the troll was named Styggve. A cousin of the infamous Stygge whom I had seen slay some of my countrymen? I took no notice of the norseman, for he was grey, but this troll was green, and that made him a mark to be slain. I waited, patiently, missing my chance once or twice, sure that they might have glimpsed me as I snuck past them - for I would never strike down a foe that had been in combat, or was grey.
Eventually I got my chance. I struck with a PA, and thought that would be sufficient, the troll bravely tried to cast a spell at me, but he missed as I stealthed away; he was bleeding and poisoned, but managed to save himself on the doorstep of Valhalla. I cursed myself for not finishing him off. I did not stay too close, as I knew, and saw, other more powerful Midgardians would come. And they did.
I returned a minute or two later, only to see 3 of my realm mates, one purple, one orange, and one yellow come storming in and slay the hapless Midgardians. I laughed as I watched a small horde of red and purple Midgardians trample the 3. All three were slain by a norseman (Sarekov?). I kept my distance, and snuck around a bit more. Soon enough, they moved off, leaving the two youngsters to fight again. This time, I didn't leave the Shaman alone and followed up my PA. I left the grey to grieve his comrade as I fled into the woods.
I surprised a scout of ours by sneaking up right next to him, and soon got bored, so I ran along the lake after I saw a few Midgardians pass by. Then I saw a yellow Norseman, and thought, what better way to end my adventure. I struck swiftly, and before I knew what was happening, I found (what Master Einhaender later explained) an oversized hamster. I learnt quickly, that my tactics against a Bezerker, will have to change, and already I have thought of new ways to deal with them, for he struck me very hard. It came down to who could strike that final blow, and he won. But in death, I had the pleasure of watching my poison claim his life. And there we lay, Briton and Norseman, dead. I yelled a farewell, and released my soul. Hallgarn (?) I hope we shall meet again, for I did so enjoy that short fight. <salutes>
<bows and fades to black>
At first, I didn't know where I was. Then I saw this mass of undead around some stones and realised this must be the fabled Undead Camp. But alas, there were no Midgardians to see. So I stalked around, and saw a few Midgardians further down a valley, but then I saw what had to be the frontier keep. I was now in grave danger. I watched as two Midgardians battle this ogre type beast and watched others slay white ponies. Many were more powerful than I.
I took a closer examination of a Troll Shaman and a Norse Bezerker, and found that the troll was named Styggve. A cousin of the infamous Stygge whom I had seen slay some of my countrymen? I took no notice of the norseman, for he was grey, but this troll was green, and that made him a mark to be slain. I waited, patiently, missing my chance once or twice, sure that they might have glimpsed me as I snuck past them - for I would never strike down a foe that had been in combat, or was grey.
Eventually I got my chance. I struck with a PA, and thought that would be sufficient, the troll bravely tried to cast a spell at me, but he missed as I stealthed away; he was bleeding and poisoned, but managed to save himself on the doorstep of Valhalla. I cursed myself for not finishing him off. I did not stay too close, as I knew, and saw, other more powerful Midgardians would come. And they did.
I returned a minute or two later, only to see 3 of my realm mates, one purple, one orange, and one yellow come storming in and slay the hapless Midgardians. I laughed as I watched a small horde of red and purple Midgardians trample the 3. All three were slain by a norseman (Sarekov?). I kept my distance, and snuck around a bit more. Soon enough, they moved off, leaving the two youngsters to fight again. This time, I didn't leave the Shaman alone and followed up my PA. I left the grey to grieve his comrade as I fled into the woods.
I surprised a scout of ours by sneaking up right next to him, and soon got bored, so I ran along the lake after I saw a few Midgardians pass by. Then I saw a yellow Norseman, and thought, what better way to end my adventure. I struck swiftly, and before I knew what was happening, I found (what Master Einhaender later explained) an oversized hamster. I learnt quickly, that my tactics against a Bezerker, will have to change, and already I have thought of new ways to deal with them, for he struck me very hard. It came down to who could strike that final blow, and he won. But in death, I had the pleasure of watching my poison claim his life. And there we lay, Briton and Norseman, dead. I yelled a farewell, and released my soul. Hallgarn (?) I hope we shall meet again, for I did so enjoy that short fight. <salutes>
<bows and fades to black>
Nice story.