Snorri charged forward, letting out a Gnomish warcry as he came. The six heavily armoured goblins let out their own warcries in challenge and charged forward to meet him. As the gnome charged, he brought his weapon chain up to his side, quickly spinning it to build momentum. Just as the first goblin came close enough to be able to swing its two-handed greatsword at Snorri, he launched their weapon upwards, but instead of letting go of the chain, he gripped it down tight and threw his weight to begin the weapon in a powerful jump. The Gnome flew high into the air, sailing close to the chamber ceiling as he passed over the heads of the front rank of goblins and came plunging down at the goblins to the rear of the unit.
His blow cut a deep gouge into a heavy goblin chest plate. The creature let out a wail as neon green blood gushed from the split in the goblin metal. Snorri took the next pair of goblins in the rear rank before either had a chance to react to his sudden presence. Snorri rammed his blade forward into the first, putting his strength behind the weapon and peircing through both sides of the goblin's chest plate, as well as the goblin in between. Spinning and pulling the blade free only to send the point-snickering fourth slice under the next goblin's helm and opened a neat, sharp wound in the creature's neck. Snorri rolled towards the collapsing goblin, spitting his body as he went to face the front ranks trio of goblins as the sent vicious blow foward at him finally managed to work out where the goblin had landed and the devastation he had caused in their momentary confusion.
The first two goblins missed wildly, sending their weapons into one of the storage chambers tall wooden shelving units. Snorri manages to raise his sword into a feeble two-hand guard just in time to catch the third goblin’s well-aimed blow. The goblins heavy two-handed axe smashed into Snorris sword and sent him sparrowing away. Snorri cuaght himself as he fell towards the ground, rolling, and coming to his feet, he sprang up into the air towards the trio of goblins. The goblins slashed wildly at the air, trying to catch the flying gnome, but all three of them missed wildly. Snorri let out a wild laugh as he flew down at the goblin to the left of the group. His knees crashed hard into the goblin's chest plate as he drove his sword tip through the goblin's eye slit.
Continuing his manic laughter, Snorri wrenched his sword free. Charging the closest of the remaining pair of goblins, he swings his blade forward in a low, sweeping, to-handed strike. His sword sliced through the goblin's unarmored upper leg like butter. As the goblin collapsed with a scream, the final goblin stabbed Snorri with a roar. Snorri rolled away, pulling his sword free as he went and dodging the goblins lunges by inches. The creature stumbled as he tried to compensate for the amount of power it had put into its strike. Snorri ceased the opportunity, sinking Arracop’s blade deep into the space where the goblin's pauldrons met its heavy armor. The goblin shreiked as Snorri drove the blade into it, ramming it down to its hilt. The goblin fell to its knees. helmeted head, wildly shaking. Snorri wrenched his sword slowly free. The shaking stopped. The goblin crumpled to the floor. “How many?” Snorri thought to arracop as he spat on the floor, trying to get rid of the metallic taste of goblish blood. “Eight hundred and thirty-seven," came the spider's reply. Snorri flicked the goblish blood and visera from his swors blade and finally trudged towards the tunnel that would take him to the lift platform.
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Warcheif Garbalc sat upon a gigantic crystal chair, idly sharpening his long goblin finger nail as he waited. He had yet again sent the runner out to round up his war council, and yet again, he had been waiting far too long for anybody to return. Soon after, he had finished sharpening the third and final finger nail of his left hand. He heard heavy goblish footsteps, and so the hulking form of Grut, his second in command, loaped into the chamber. his heavy scale, allowing him enough movement to easily sink into one of the wooden chairs arranged around the large circular table in the centre of the chamber's lower floor. Grut let out a long whistle before turning his head up to the warchief. “Whole lotta killin boss,” he said in a tired voice.
Grut had led the largest of the goblin raiding forces; he had by chance broken through into the residential district, where he and his war band had encountered the majority of the colony's population. After racking up a personal kill counter in the low hundreds, his blade had grown dull. From there, he had dedicated the last few days to overseeing the search for the last of the mountain inhabitants, gathering the last hundred or so of the survivors into one large chamber. "Indeed," Garblac finally answered Grut after finishing his nail-sharpening and stowing his knife. “It is good to see you. You have finally made space in your busy schedule, and you have finally found a scene fit to make council with you." Snarblac shot down at his leitenant. Grut raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I would still be killing, but Zarblac said you said to gather the last of the survivors and take them prisoner.”
“I said there was no such thing,” snapped Garblac, narrowing his eyes. “It matters not; I have found it best not to question the ways of Zarblac the weird.” He added it after a moment of thought. Grut opened his mouth to say something but closed it again as the sound of eight chittering spider legs echoed towards the chamber, followed by the hulking mass of Jarblac, the spider king. He brought his arrachnoid mount to a half and dismounted. Hissing in pain as he put weight on his leg, he limped towards the table. Leaning on it, he looked up at where Snarblac sat on the crystal throne. “Snar,” he said in a pained tone, looking his warchief directly in the eyes. “Snarblac is dead, brother.”