one, huh? Fair enough odds, if the Barbarian doesn't get us all
killed by tripping over his loin cloth." Kilvorough the Warrior
drew his Blade of Leaping Gold, with only a quick sideways glance
at Um-Grol, the Norse Barbarian.
"Shut ya bog
'ole, skinny. I'll smash ya ugly face in!" The Chaos Lord was temporarily
forgotten, by Um-Grol at least, as he balled his hand into a fist
and took a threatening stance.
another fight about to begin, the dark skinned Arabian Assassin
took it upon himself once more to disperse tempers, by sliding silently
in front of the Barbarian and lightly touching his fist, pushing
it gently back to Um-Grol's side. "Not here, not now!" As usual,
his deep, low voice reached his Barbarian ally. "Settle it later,
once the servant of Khorne is disposed of."
With a blur
of speed, Kilvorough leapt forward, meeting the Chaos Lord with
a clashing of swords. Even with his magical blade of speed, the
Chaos Lord blocked every blow with unparalleled efficiency.
The razor bladed
chakram that was the Warrior Princess' whizzed over the top of the
Warrior's head, striking the Chaos Lord on the top of his helmet.
Alas, it did nothing more than anger him. Isparana grabbed the weapon
from the air as it returned to her grasp, as drew her slender blade,
preparing to join Kilvorough in melee.
his magical scimitar, also ready to advance, when suddenly he noticed
the Barbarian holding a strange, glowing hammer. He had never seen
Um-Grol use this weapon before. "Where did you get that hammer,
Norseman? You have no idea what power it contains!"
shrugged, Lúm-Dúl snarled in annoyance, a rare sign for the usually
"You hold in
your ham like fists the legendary Hammer of Hargon, long thought
destroyed. For one who knows how to use it, it is an unstoppable
weapon. Give it to me, you are unsuited to use it."
had no idea what the strange black man was saying to him, it sounded
like an insult. "Izza big 'ammer. Can't have it! Get lost!" With
that, and a mighty Norse war chant, the Barbarian charged into battle,
and with a blow that could fell an ox, struck the Chaos Lord directly
on top of his helmeted head. Nothing happened. The Chaos Lord didn't
even feel the blow. Again he tried, with the same result. "Hmmm....
Must be broken....." The discarded hammer landed directly at Lúm-Dúl's
booted feet, who reverently picked it up.
"One must have
great skill and understanding of weaponry to use this device. It
does not like to be abused by one unskilled in the art of war. You
Barbarian, are an oaf, and would not recognise a magical artefact
if it stabbed you in the chest and said 'I am a magical artefact'"
Lúm-Dúl glided across the floor with amazing agility and proceeded
to clobber the Chaos Lord over the head. The laughter that ensued
was from the mouth of Um-Grol as he watched the hammer ricochet
back onto the Arab's unprotected face. "AARRGH, my nose!! It broke
As the hammer
fell from loose fingers, Kilvorough grasped it with his left hand,
being ambidextrous, and set to work once more on the Chaos Lord,
who did not seem to be tiring. Willing all his strength into the
blow, he swung the Hammer of Hargon directly at the Chaos Lord's
mid-section. There was a sickening crunch, and a muffled cry of
pain from behind the servant of Khrone's blood red helmet. Grasping
his side, he staggered, and eventually fell to his knees, whimpering
Arabian, and Warrior Princess gawked in surprise. How had he been
able to use the weapon and not any of the others?
"Well, I guess
we know who has the greater understanding of what a Warrior is now,
"I can fight,
though. I bash the creatures when they seez me, and they run in
fright. Why I can not use it, Kilvooogh?" Um-Grol seemed really
"My skill with
the scimitar is unrivalled. I am as quick as any man, and yet it
broke my nose, blast it. Yet you, a stripling of a boy, wield it
with grace and style while I blunder about. How can this be?"
You, Um-Grol, are an uncouth savage who delights in killing and
maiming. You do not appreciate the skills and the trade of war.
A sword is a sword is a sword to you. As long as there are opponents,
you can kill happily, relishing the blood, but you fail to see the
big picture. And you, Arabian, focus far too much on subterfuge
and cowardly assassination techniques. True, your sword arm is one
of the fastest I have encountered, but you too do not appreciate
the tools and skills involved in the trade. Where as, I do. I am
a Warrior, a mercenary, a traveller, and adventurer. The both of
you are machines of death. Unsuited for a weapon of this power."
With that mighty speech, Kilvorough walked from the room, the hammer
of Hargon resting over his right shoulder. "And, just for once,
get my name right, you walking hulk of meat!"
story by Michael Brockhouse.