Ser Fluffy's campfire war story thread!
Gather 'round knaves and gnolls, and let loose of you tales of war and the spoils you hast accquired! All are welcome 'round the fluffy fire, archers, man at arms knights, all of you!
Either release you thoughts and entertain the rest or simlply sit back and cheer (or jeer) towards chivalrious sagas of the meek and bold!
Ser Fluffy shalt begin the story telling!
It was upon battlegrounds, and the dirty Agathians had burnt down our grainary and market. Up to this point I had slain many vile vanguards and atrocious archers, yet we could not prevent the burning of our farm.
Their bomb cart was approaching a short, wooden bridge with an archer, two men at arms, one vanguard and one knight pushing it.
I sighted the explosive behemoth and, bearing simply a poleaxe, charged head first into the fray.
My first strike, an overhead, seperated the archers head from his body as I dodged a vanguards spear stab. I spun around and slashed one of the men at arms and he ran off, in fear and spite.
My back exploded in pain as the knights claw hammer smashed my armour, so I hastily spun and my poleaxe knocked off his golden helm. As the coward turned to evade and flee, I stabbed him in the buttocks and he fell head over heels into the river.
The vanguard came into my sight and I ducked his spear slash and kicked him as I rose. He went in for an overhead stab, but I blocked said overhead and followed up with a slash of my own. As the vanguard fled the battle I had noticed the the final man at arms had been killed by one of my friends, Ser Rex the Nipple. With that, we held the bridge for 4 valiant minutes before being slewn with a heavy crossbow.
Thus concludes my story, now thou share yours!
Well, c´mon then, grab a horn and pull up a stool, come sit 'round, for ''tis story time once more.
Remember how we managed to sneak into the dark forest above Stoneshill valley? Aye, well, good tale about that one. Agathians put up hell of a fight, stalled us alot trying to keep us all from pushing the cart. We had archers and newboys push the cart while we veterans tried to cleave a path. And how we cleaved. I had my norse sword in hand, rushed them on the right and made short work off the Agathain archers that were cowering up high. While I took care of those arrowflickers, my good heavy armoured clad friend, Baeren, was struggling to get the cart further. You’d recon that a 7 foot tall slab of meat and might would easily push that thing, but he didn’t.
Honestly, I couldn’t tell if he was wielding a maul or if it was just a huge collection of skull and brain, because it looked more red than my own tabard. Baeren, had destroyed all but 2 opponents. Two vanguards with spears, and I just knew he was struggling. I rushed over there, crying out for blood, dodging the first thrust, ducking underneath the second and with a quick overhead strike to his neck, one of the blue boys was down, meanwhile, arrows flinging all around us as we were the only two reds in the blue sea.
I felt a sharp pain in my back, only to turn around and be covered in bits of skull. Baeren had made short work of the vanguard that was coming at me. Our reinforcements arrived, keeping the Agathains at bay as we pushed onwards. Straight past the gate and into a new area full of Agathains wanting to have our heads. Ofcourse, it wasn’t just me and Baeren. 't was also Vlisken, the sadistic halbardeer. He was constantly raining blows from overhead on Knights who thought a towershield would make them invincible. We moved the cart into the cistern tunnel, but we got stalled there.
With Agatha rooted in firmly in the tunnel, Bjandir, our friendly neighbourhood marksman, provided us with some accurate fire upon the blue scum. Once again, Baeren, Vlisken and I charged unto the breach. And I don’t know how we did it, but we managed to root those bastards out. We were perfect together. Any attack that was parried by the enemy would be followed upon by either Baeren or I. Finaly, when all were slain, Vlisken and Baeren were still pushing the cart, trying to tilt it into the cistern. When the final Agathian came at me, covered in what I hoped was his own blood. With a blow from overhead he swung. Right past me and bam! Clocked him right in the jaw!
Eventually, we came to the cranks on the right side. And we tried to hold it for as long as we could. But the blues came in too strong and we held with too few. After 5 minutes of holding the crank, we were spent, and finaly, slain. I died taking the head off some quickwitted lad, and his friend did the same to me. Vlisken held out slightly longer, but eventually perished by an axe thrown to his head. Baeren, the 7 foot menace, took a blade to the chest after sweeping two others aside with a hack of his falchion.
I fear this campfire is appearing to look a tad deserted. More mead for me!
Aye, but it is not deserted.
In the dark forest, my brothers-in-arms and had already dumped the bodies of the diseased into the cistern and captured it for our own. We learned that the kings family was cowering inside of a few boarded up rooms. It could be seen in those Agathians eyes, that despite their shortcomings, they would not give up their royalty.
The other rooms of those worthless nobles had been cleared, and their fortifications had but all been destroyed by our catapults. Waves upon waves of our brave soldiers clashed and fell against the Agathian line surrounding the entrance. We had managed to destroy it but a wall shields and blades prevented us from entering.
It seemed that we were almost out of resources and time to keep fighting, so I took it upon myself to give up my position covering our men in order to take out their nobility.
The main bridge was only held by 2 enemies, a Knight and a Man-at-Arms. Warbow in hand, I rushed to take position across the bridge and took aim. One of my bodkin arrows pierced the knights mail and drove itself into his throat, the sound of the Knight choking on his own blood was enough to get the Man-at-Arms to take cover behind a nearby rock. As I crept out on to the bridge, he rushed me and I had to pull out my thrusting dagger. His flurry of attacks almost overwhelmed me, however, I was helped by a helpful Vanguard who came from behind and wedged open the Man-at-Arms shoulder with his Bardiche. He came with me as I charged up the right flank, hoping to catch the Agathians by surprise. On the way up, a spear-man came at me, and I evaded his attacks to the left and right, getting close enough to land multiple stabs and killing him with one into the slit on his visor. As I reached the top of the hill, I spotted two crossbowmen on the ridge over the room where the King’s family was being held. I sent an arrow flying into the back of a crossbowmen’s head, the other saw his companion fall, turned around and came at me with a club. He hit me with two swipes and I was on the brink of death, but I managed to get some good thrusts into his abdomen to take him down. I moved onto a nearby rock and got a clear view of the room, I managed to take a few royals down with my bow but I could not get a shot at the Queen’s son. The Vanguard hacked and slashed at the line, as I fired into it, dropping an enemy or two. The Vanguard was killed by a heavy javelin through the chest, but his sacrifice had left me an opening. I rushed in, and the when the Queen’s son saw me, he rushed to the back of the room, but there was no escape, as I plunged my dagger into the back of his neck, victory was obtained for the Order.
Thank you all for listening to this old archer rant, but I am more interested in your stories. Please go on.
Aye, but it is not deserted.
In the dark forest, my brothers-in-arms and had already dumped the bodies of the diseased into the cistern and captured it for our own. We learned that the kings family was cowering inside of a few boarded up rooms. It could be seen in those Agathians eyes, that despite their shortcomings, they would not give up their royalty. The other rooms of those worthless nobles had been cleared, and their fortifications had but all been destroyed by our catapults. Waves upon waves of our brave soldiers clashed and fell against the Agathian line surrounding the entrance. We had managed to destroy it but a wall shields and blades prevented us from entering.It seemed that we were almost out of resources and time to keep fighting, so I took it upon myself to give up my position covering our men in order to take out their nobility. The main bridge was only held by 2 enemies, a Knight and a Man-at-Arms. Warbow in hand, I rushed to take position across the bridge and took aim. One of my bodkin arrows pierced the knights mail and drove itself into his throat, the sound of the Knight choking on his own blood was enough to get the Man-at-Arms to take cover behind a nearby rock. As I crept out on to the bridge, he rushed me and I had to pull out my thrusting dagger. His flurry of attacks almost overwhelmed me, however, I was helped by a helpful Vanguard who came from behind and wedged open the Man-at-Arms shoulder with his Bardiche. He came with me as I charged up the right flank, hoping to catch the Agathians by surprise. On the way up, a spear-man came at me, and I evaded his attacks to the left and right, getting close enough to land multiple stabs and killing him with one into the slit on his visor. As I reached the top of the hill, I spotted two crossbowmen on the ridge over the room where the King’s family was being held. I sent an arrow flying into the back of a crossbowmen’s head, the other saw his companion fall, turned around and came at me with a club. He hit me with two swipes and I was on the brink of death, but I managed to get some good thrusts into his abdomen to take him down. I moved onto a nearby rock and got a clear view of the room, I managed to take a few royals down with my bow but I could not get a shot at the Queen’s son. The Vanguard hacked and slashed at the line, as I fired into it, dropping an enemy or two. The Vanguard was killed by a heavy javelin through the chest, but his sacrifice had left me an opening. I rushed in, and the when the Queen’s son saw me, he rushed to the back of the room, but there was no escape, as I plunged my dagger into the back of his neck, victory was obtained for the Order.Thank you all for listening to this old archer rant, but I am more interested in your stories. Please go on.
Aye, that is indeed a story worthy of bard song, yet thy’s archery tactics appears to involve too much forward advance. Yet, with what you did to the crossbowmen it may be better to imploy that sort of movement.
I was the last man alive For the mason order. I was an archer proudly supporting my brothers in the field. I was flanking around looking for the enemy. Then I saw them. Two knights a vanguard and menacing looking man at arms. They saw me at the same time an raised a guy wrenching battle cry. They were two close for me to fire a shot at then so I pulled out my trusty short sword and slower walked towards them. The vanguard was the closest with the man at arms close behind. They were standing side by side when they came to me and the vanguard took a swing decapitating his comrade with his swing missing in front of me. I couldn’t stifle a laugh. I stabbed the vanguard and followed up with two slashes. The first knight came a me and I had barely enough time to block his falchion. The vanguard had regains his composure and did an overhand cutting through the knight. He stumbled and turned around to get my short sword through his back. I didn’t see the vanguard swing in the other direction. It felt like someone had shoved a burning rock into my side. I lashed out with a stab an an overhand with separated his head from his body. The last knight came round a rock and was squaring me off. He had no helmet and his face Clearly distraught over the 3 body’s around me and the blood on my sword and the bandana over my face. I sheathed my sword and raised my fists. The knight obliged with a smile. I landed the first fast punch and followed up with several more. He blocked my fists an swung wildly rage showing in his face. I kicked him in the shin and followed up with an uppercut and an overhand punch in the jaw which sent him sprawling across the ground. I had won.
SerFluffy, sometimes, as an archer, you can make more of a difference in the front line than you may have thought you could.
You’ve seen nothing! Nothing I tell you!
During the crusade we made out camp in a ruined city. Suddenly some sort of blood madness came over the knights! I swear the djinn had gotten into them because they all started hacking at each other with their swords. Naturally I stood and waited with baited breath, hoping the madness would not come upon me as well. When I realized they might turn on me next I threw a pot of flaming oil into their melee and all four of them burned up right then and there.
I can still hear their screams when I sleep.
GET THE RAM TO THE GATE! THE GATE! IT’S NEARLY THERE! PUSSSHHHH!
WE DID IT! WE-boom
Oh… it was a bomb…
A little short of a story, but this is my telling of my crowning achievement.
Battle raged in the castle courtyard, the Agathians pushing through to our walls and attempting to drive us out. No ballistae were present, because this team’s objective was simply to be the last standing and the battle had already been raging for a while. It was fairly evenly matched as well, the enemy leader who I came to know well was a shield knight who kept his team from rushing a lone Mason, preferring to let a man duel with honor, so we returned the favor and I quite enjoyed facing one of equal skill. Our fights often lasted tense minutes, but neither could consistently best the other.
During one engagement, however, he was felled at the battle’s midpoint and his troops became unruly and perhaps possessed of berserker rage, as I soon found myself alone facing 6 angry Agathians. Expecting honor, I was instead faced by a charging horde with only my trusty Broadsword to help me. Resolving myself to a quick death, I went at the closest enemy, darting in with speed and quickly cutting the Vanguard down with a one-two to the head, slicing it clean off while he still presumably thought his reach advantage kept him safe. Seeing 3 enemies ahead of me and hearing one to my right, I dodged blindly left and thus avoided a nasty blow from another two-hander, this time from a Knight. Fleeing from this flanker, I charged the three ahead of me, stabbing the rightmost man so that he could not complete his swing, then circling around him to put his body between myself and his allies. All 5 remaining foes now directly in front of me, I stabbed the same Knight in the back before dodging back from the retaliatory swing, then met a powerful overhead from my left with my own sword, deflecting the blow and immediately riposting for a clean hit. Of course, I could not parry all of them, so as the rest closed in and more started flanking, I darted right at the wounded Knight, taking him by surprise and, without even pausing to savor the kill, followed up with a strike to his ally before dodging out of the way of an arse-seeking stab. My hearing was my greatest ally thus far, allowing me to keep track of every foe in my mind despite only having two or three in my view at any given moment, though I was quickly growing tired. Only a moment’s respite was allowed me, however, as yet another foe came at me from the right side and directly in front as well, but I had recovered enough to nimbly dodge out of the way to my left and create some distance, allowing me to recover enough stamina for a counter-attack.
Things continued like this for only perhaps 2 minutes’ time, but it seemed far longer to me, possessed as I was, acting out this fragile dance of death, but after that objectively short amount of time, I stood panting and surrounded by 6 Agathian corpses, most of them once-proud Knights, with nary a scratch on me and blood dripping from my Broadsword.
(Weaving between 6 enemies at once is INTENSE, but not something I can easily reproduce. It would be glorious if I could though, with my new ability to record gameplay, because my god that was fun)
Alright, gnollmen. I hast arrived bearing a story of exploititive adventure and kicking of teammates.
I and a man I shalt refer to as “Ser Cat” were making combat upon hillside. This was back when I fought in the Mason order, mind thou. He sent a letter towards my position stating that he had found and exploit, and sure enough, he had. The first fire place on Hillside (the one before the ruined valley) could be walked into, and once inside, thou was invicible. No damage would come your way.
When the wooden pyre burned (Agathian PIGS) our wall became rubble and we were forced unto our sacred city. Ser Cat told me of an hill, built into the side of the cliff. When we jumped, we did not fall unto the water below, we merely halted our falling by landing upon said hill.
The Agathains demolished our trebuchets, so Ser Cat and I jumped into the water, prayed to the gods for resurrection. We were grated a blessing.
The next sun I and Ser Cat were fighting upon the kingsland of DarkForest. He told me of an island in the river that would save you from the rapids, whilst providing rest and hospitality. The island exsists.
The gods clearly smile down upon I, for I made my way back from the war zone and built this here campfire. Keep an eye out, lads, for odd things are afloat I fear. A new horizon burns each day…
[…] exploits […]
I know of an illusory wall on Hillside, when trying to defend the ballistae. You can simply jump down to a platform near where the Mason reinforcements pour from and the wall to the left is half real, half sorcery, allowing you access to a small pit of no return. This can be jumped over to allow someone to get behind one of the reinforcement areas, but they are trapped in this odd place forevermore, unless they think to bring a ladder.
This one time I killed everyone, and everything.
I then rode a dragon into the sunset.
True story. 8-)
I have a strange tale to tell of darkness and sorcery. I am the sole survivor of the massacre at Stoneshill castle. Some may call me a deserter, but there was no army left to desert…
I was with a small company of my fellow Mason brothers on the outskirts of Stoneshill. The orders were clear and they had come from high up, perhaps even Malric himself: We were to butcher the peasants and set fire to the village. Some in our company had qualms with such deeds but orders are orders.
We began the assault at dawn. Men, women, children. They all fell beneath the blades of the Order. We encountered ragtag defenses of Agathans here and there but this was a full on slaughter. There was no honor to be had here. We were resting later that eve on the first day, on the outskirts at our basecamp when news came from the battle: Ten of our men laid low by a single Agathan Vanguard!
I could scarce believe the news, but surely enough a loud battle cry rose from the village and the clanking of many shields and blades. With my own eyes, I saw a man wearing the insignia of Agatha. He was moving at a speed faster than any arrow I had seen travel through the air.
Weaving in and out of the battle, I saw this wizard slay ALL masons that were there that day. I had never seen such dastardly acts on the battlefield, it was as if no one had a chance against this man who moved with speed of many horses. One by one, they all fell to him.
I had no choice, you see. Surely you can understand why I ran? I am but an archer, no one accused me of bravery. But there is one thing… I am not a liar. By the gods I know what I saw, and it was not the movements of any regular man!
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Aye, T’was a brave deed. indeed.
T’was a year. The Mason scum were itching for a fight and we were glad to bring it to them! Things started off well enough, I thought. I took the right flank while most of me mates tried to hold the left.
The first swine I came up against was a man at arms in rust armor. As he came rushing at me, swinging wildly as I dodged back. I quickly saw my opening and the sand ran red.
I redoubled my efforts and made my way for their back line, populated by a couple of sorry looking archers. Arrows stung into my shield as I rushed at them, quickly relieving the first’s head from his body and kicking the other into spikes. He hung there like a slaughtered pig.
My brothers in arms were not so lucky. Some 6 odd knights and vangaurds had cut down my friends, their red surcoats dyed anew from my comrades. I flew into a rage and advanced on the nearest one to me.
Startled by my sudden flight of rage he clumsily swung his Halberd in my direction, but to no avail. Swift slices left him mewling on the ground as a kitten. Further I rushed on to a pair of knights with swords who worked in tandem. One swung while the other recovered. There was a sound of cut sinew as my sword slashed one of them, but I could not take them with the rest of their allies advancing.
I beat a hasty retreat to the stairs of the platform as they all rushed at me. I narrowly avoided a strike meant to send me into the Last Sleep while another ran across me chest. I felled two on those steps, though I know not how. But my position was being further overrun by the mass of meat and metal that dares call itself human. I turned to jump off the platform as their advance was becoming overpowering, but not before they gave me a parting gift, a mighty slash to my leg.
Bleeding and winded, I ran for our gate not taking heed of my surroundings. But the noise that followed still haunts my dreams to this day. A fateful ‘click’ and intake of breath from the pillar.
I felt my skin bubble and crisp. As my wounds seared shut by the unforgiving flame. I laid on that damned arena in the blood of my brothers smouldering and screaming out. Cursing their lives and their families until I blacked out.
Pain. I awoke to pain. Pain from my breathing. Pain in the wound on my chest. Pain from every inch of my body. And a ghostly ache from where my leg had once been. Even the gossamer bandages swaddling me exuded pain.
And that, Recruits, is why I look like the rear end of a dog! Now get back to work before I teach you what pain is!
(based on a match I had a few days ago. LTS in Arena. This was just one of the rounds and I played a falchion MAA. We won in the end.)