Pens, paper, dice and adventure! Grab an ale, learn Read/Write and enjoy some articles, resources and some discussion about Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay.

Wednesday, 23 March 2011

Legless Willy

Wilhelm’s blade sunk into the brigand’s gut. He slammed his pistol into the thief’s chest, firing point blank, blasting the poor bastard from the end of his sword in a cloud of heavy stinking smoke. From his flank, another foe appeared, bursting through the choking sooty mess, sword raised to strike. Wilhelm spun around, barely deflecting the blow with his smoking pistol. He tossed the hand gun aside, reaching for his belt, and drawing his long sharp Tilean stiletto. He came down fast on the unbalanced ruffian, slicing with the dagger, cutting nothing but smoke, then bouncing of leather, hidden beneath the man’s cloak.
The brigand was quick to counter, making another sweeping strike across Wilhelm’s knees, connecting with a loud crack! The ruffian watched stunned and wide eyed as Wilhelm fell, and what appeared to be a wooden leg came free, collapsing to the dusty road with the rest of him in a broken heap.
The bandit wasted no more time, lunging at his downed prey. Wilhelm rolled for his dropped sword, wildly swinging away the first attack, but the brigand was raising his weapon for the final blow. In a groggy panic, Wilhelm found his other hand on his battered wooden leg, and clasping it, he threw his body forward, striking with the unlikely weapon. The wooden leg connected with a knee, and the brigand dropped, wincing and losing grip on his blade. Wilhelm struck again and again, bludgeoning his foe, then gathering the last of his strength, he drove his sword into the man’s chest, killing him.
Wilhelm collapsed onto his back, exhausted. Through the slowly dispersing cloud of black-powder smoke, he could not see much, but could hear horses and voices approaching. He was too tired to look. He grimaced, and clenched the blood splattered wooden leg in his hand. Summoning the last of his energy, he roared, hauling himself around ready to strike. His fiery glare was met by the face of an armoured Warden, dropping down from his tall horse and striding his way. Wilhelm let out an exhausted laugh, dropping his wooden leg, and reaching out his hand to meet an armoured glove...

No comments:

Post a Comment