A little Morning Fluff.

[Dont-Be-Haten]

Hey ladies, and gents, its Dont-Be-Haten again and I'm a little bored, so I've decided to do some fan-fic, hope you enjoy!

The Mustering:

For millenia man has looked towards philosphy and religion for guidance. Learned scholars have passed down knowledge given to them by the ancient and majestic Asur, and if not for they, the types of freedom that forward the human race would never have existed. Without the sound foundation of such an acient race these practices would never have come to fruition.

Majestic eyes, stare out across the darkened field of strife, there is no great sun to shine this day, only the blacken abyss that looms over head. Ice bitten winds pierce like sharpened blades, no armor can protect from such an assault. The tears of their ancestors fall from the warring sky like loosed arrows in insurmountable numbers, chilling the very core of each stalwart figure. There is a crash as loud as dwarven war machines that rolls across the sky, it is almost as if the old gods wrestle with those of chaos for supremecy over the view of bloodshed to ensue.

The Tor Anroc Prince is beautiful, cunning, and wisened for the last seven-hundred years have seen many battles, and this is but another in his journal. The rain assaults his soldiers with such a fury, yet he knows they are about to send thse skaven to a befitting end, " These hordes of foul rat-men that wish to plunder our Isles, and extinguish the last light of hope on this world, have ravashed our shores for long enough! They bring bindings of heresy infused in stolen technologies from across the way. They breed and fester like a plague. Soldiers of Ulthuan, they shall break against our shields like the water to our beloved shores!"

The sleak sound of metal unsheathed plays like an orchestra to the battle hardened warriors, ready to follow their lord to the very pits of the hell. The gods have settled and a brillaint blue fills the sky revealing the countless slaves of the Under Empire descend upon their location. There is a brief silence, only broken by the outstretched pressure of leather as it is pulled to the ready. Ryvvik, a Prince of Tor Anroc with nerves of still and an expression colder than the Nothern Waste lowers his sword and says to his Liuetenants, as the horns of war begin to bellow, "No Quarter..."

(If you like this let me know and I will continue with another little fluffi-ness )
Thanks for reading!
-DBH

[wittdooley]

Good stuff, dude. A few disagreements with tense that threw me off briefly, but I enjoy. I can't help but think of Privateer at the end though, with the "No Quarter.."

Keep it up.

[Dont-Be-Haten]

Hey Thanks Wittdooley! I'm definitely not much for grammar and spelling, so I should apologize for that in advance. My major was in business mathematics so, yeah you'll get the definite imperfect tenses and mis-spellings there. I'll definitely try to work that up to be less confusing, and forgive my ignorance but what is a privateer? xD
-DBH

[wittdooley]

Don't sweat the spelling; I'm trained as an English teacher, and I certainly don't worry about that crap on online forums. I only pointed out the tense issue because it tripped me up in reading it the first time through; I promise I wasn't trying to be a douche

Privateer as in Privateer Press, makers of Warmachine. Their in-house magazing is called "No Quarter." I actually thought it was a pun by you! Hehe.

[Dont-Be-Haten]

Ohhhh neato! Sorry I'm a total noob in table-tops, I just started building my army like...this weekend. xD
So I have no clue what Warmachine is for-real but I'll play it down as though I'm actually that smart and intelligent! Muahahaha! >D

Also, I'm not offended at all by your criticism, and to be honest, the word douche didn't even come into my mind until after you said something about it, and I was totally just like, this is the second person to think they offended me in like three days. I promise, I'm very laid back on this thread, D-ram is the last thing on my mind

I'll let people know when I think they are being jerks, but I'm very thankful for your comments (we all love feedback! ESPECIALLY after seeing like 200+ views and then 2+ replies xD) So just to reinterate, I Dont-Be-Haten am a utter and total newbie, I really enjoy the dialog, annnnd I'll continue my little fan-fic, oooohhh yeah and I totally welcome comments/constructive criticism/feedback!~

Thanks again, Wittdooley!
-DBH

[Dont-Be-Haten]

Elven arrows loosed in the thousands, spraying down onto the weak hides of the vermin skewering them and dropping them in mid charge. The countless vile creatures trampled over their dead kin with no allegiance. The slaves herded by their masters' wips pressed forward, in un-ending waves.

The mighty Asur army had already released a second and third volley to thin out the ranks of their aggressors, but the slaves pushed forward with the devil's own vigor. The clever rat-men were advancing up behind their slaves, using them as a shield forcing the elves to waste their arrows on worthless weaklings. The Skaven Warlord, was a trickey one, his cunning philosophy was simple, he had tricked the soldiers think they were protected by the slaves. That the elves are fragile were no match for their numbers and when their arrows ran out, they would over-run the weak elves and break their shuddering resolve.

(Hope you enjoyed a little more fluff, I'll continue when the weather isn't so bad and I have more time.)
-DBH