11-05-2017, 04:28 PM
Axreth growled at his men. "Why have you brought me here? To this pansy land." He spat, slamming the wooden handle of his large axe into the floor. "I made it clear I wanted nothing to do with Ambrosia, yet here we are."
One of the smaller soldiers bowed down onto his knee, looking at Axreth's feet as he spoke. "Jarl, we're here to steal the train."
"A train!" Axreth shouted, projecting his voice into the jungle. "What need would I, the future overlord of the Vasty Deep, have for a train?"
Muttering broke out from the group. Heads turned, as if something clicked for all of them at once. Why actually were they stealing a train?
One gruff voice broke the silence. "Because you asked us two, Sir!"
"...oh. So I did." Axreth paused in thought. He did remember something like that. "Well, why didn't you stop me then?" Silence. "I am a reasonable leader."
More silence followed until one of the soldiers raised their sword. "Aye, Sir. You are!" A chorus of "Aye"s followed.
Axreth was about to bark a command when his eyes spotted something of interest. The faint light of a fire in the distance, and smoke rising above the treetops. Most would run at the sight of this, not wanting to get trapped amongst the burning wood. But not Axreth. Nor his men.
It was cloudy, and not particularly hot, even if it was humid. In essence, that meant someone had to have started the fire. Maybe even a prime. But it was more likely due to two or more primes fighting each other.
"It seems the gods have given us a gift, men."
There was no greater death, Axreth believed, than that caused from fighting a worthy opponent. Those men that understood what was happening affirmed this by roaring, and those that didn't did so shortly after, so as not to feel left out.
"To battle men!"
It was not dishonourable to fight with larger numbers. His army was just an extension of his strength, so should he win, it would be due to him. His superior regime. His commanding. And his strength when it came to battle.
Vibrations reverberated through the ground with each step of the warriors, shaking trees and causing birds to flee from their nests. The fire wasn't large, but the thin grass and shrubbery it was burning let off a lot of smoke.
With a shout of battle rage, Axreth ran into the clearing, flanked by his men, preparing to charge at all who moved in their path, unknowing that killing one of the primes would reward them. Not that that mattered, they were in it for the blood. The thrill of combat.
One of the smaller soldiers bowed down onto his knee, looking at Axreth's feet as he spoke. "Jarl, we're here to steal the train."
"A train!" Axreth shouted, projecting his voice into the jungle. "What need would I, the future overlord of the Vasty Deep, have for a train?"
Muttering broke out from the group. Heads turned, as if something clicked for all of them at once. Why actually were they stealing a train?
One gruff voice broke the silence. "Because you asked us two, Sir!"
"...oh. So I did." Axreth paused in thought. He did remember something like that. "Well, why didn't you stop me then?" Silence. "I am a reasonable leader."
More silence followed until one of the soldiers raised their sword. "Aye, Sir. You are!" A chorus of "Aye"s followed.
Axreth was about to bark a command when his eyes spotted something of interest. The faint light of a fire in the distance, and smoke rising above the treetops. Most would run at the sight of this, not wanting to get trapped amongst the burning wood. But not Axreth. Nor his men.
It was cloudy, and not particularly hot, even if it was humid. In essence, that meant someone had to have started the fire. Maybe even a prime. But it was more likely due to two or more primes fighting each other.
"It seems the gods have given us a gift, men."
There was no greater death, Axreth believed, than that caused from fighting a worthy opponent. Those men that understood what was happening affirmed this by roaring, and those that didn't did so shortly after, so as not to feel left out.
"To battle men!"
It was not dishonourable to fight with larger numbers. His army was just an extension of his strength, so should he win, it would be due to him. His superior regime. His commanding. And his strength when it came to battle.
Vibrations reverberated through the ground with each step of the warriors, shaking trees and causing birds to flee from their nests. The fire wasn't large, but the thin grass and shrubbery it was burning let off a lot of smoke.
With a shout of battle rage, Axreth ran into the clearing, flanked by his men, preparing to charge at all who moved in their path, unknowing that killing one of the primes would reward them. Not that that mattered, they were in it for the blood. The thrill of combat.
Quote:To clarify. This post is fodder. All participants have agreed with this. In other words, I get no benefit for writing this (so it should not be considered when grading the fight), and no one writer should directly benefit from the concequences of it (regarding the outcome). Everyone is free to write the characters as they please, providing they don't have them single out on an individual fighter, or do something obviously OOC. In general, just be reasonable. They're secondaries, after all. This is basically a writing prompt.
Summary of the mob:
The leader (Axreth), has a big twohanded axe.
15 of the other men just have swords or onehanded axes, as well as wooden shields.
4 of the men have lighter armour, and shortbows. Don't expect them to have great aim.
In general, an unskilled Viking-looking mob with a bunch of buff middle aged guys. Feel free to make up other stuff about them.