12 Jul 2010
This will be my first time writing fiction with such a heavy focus on dialogue (this is only the prologue, don't worry, the battles shall be coming). So any comments on my grammar are welcome, i'm notorious for tense switches, and i've always been iffy on quotations.
Prologue
"Doomed! Doomed I say! We're all doomed, the forces of chaos march upon us!" screamed some thin manthing. Lurg normally liked the pub in this small human village, but his enjoyment was ruined by this manthing. He kept going on and on about some chaox, and something about doom, Lurg liked doom-ale, but his mother, doom-hilda, scared him. Taking another swig of his ale, Lurg looked at his companion to his left. He stared at a meticulously kept mustache, and a beard clean of food. His companion's one good eye turned to regard him.
"What're staring at there, Lurg?" he asked, taking a long drink of his wine. Lurg stared incredulously as his companion daintily wiped the wine off from around his lips. This was not proper behavior for an ogre! But then again, Jur, or, as he liked to be called, Joseph, was a weird one.
"Nufink, Joe, just thinkin', why is dat manthing so whiny?" Lurg asked, eager to find out.
Jur said nothing for awhile, finally saying "I don't really know Lurg, I think a small band of chaos warriors was sighted by the scouts earlier today. That probably isn't a good thing for a small village like this one, but the empire is used to losing villages like this one." Lurg snickered, "Is dat why he so whiny? Dat's funny! I like fighting dem warriors, but only when dey are red, doze purple ones are not easy to smash and da green ones smell werid." Jur sighed, "Yes Lurg, the Tzeentch warriors are hard to kill, and the nurgle warriors do smell werid, but the Khorne warriors are just berzerkers, no honor at all in killing them."
A small, well-kempt man approached the pair with an air of barely suppressed panic.
"Excuse me gents, but I was told by your paymaster that you'd be the ones I was hiring, are you Lurg and Jur?" the man asked.
"Aye, that's us, but i'm Jospeh, not Jur, and since you talked to our paymaster, do you remember the weird scar he has on his left cheek? The one that looks like the letter P?" Joseph said.
"Oh aye, I remember that scar, odd one that, anyway lets go!" the man said, looking harried.
"Oh really? Well you've talked to the wrong paymaster, our paymaster doesn't have a scar like that, so you'd best be getting out of here before I have my friend here take you out." Jur exclaimed.
The man reddened and sputtered, "But, but, you've got to help us, there's a huge force coming out of the woods! Beastmen, and warriors of chaos, we can get you the money somehow!"
"Hur hur, silly man, we no care for money, we's here for the big fights, dis just a stop fer us, we no care whut happens to yer village. And anyways, da big fights I wus talkin' 'bout, we's already been hired." Lurg chuckled and promptly took the small manthing by the scruff of his neck and flung him out the window of the inn without further adieu. Jur clapped his hands in delight and said "Good one Lurg, I knew we were friends for some reason!" Jur flicked a coin to the bartender standing nearby, "We should probably get going, the rest of us will probably move on before the village gets hit." The pair got up and shoved their way out of the inn. Outside, they walked for a few minutes, drinking in the squalor of the village. Lurg liked to see how the manthings lived, it gave him a much greater appreciation for how he lived back in the mountains of mourn. Who in their right mind wouldn't have little greenthings to carry things or have for the occasional snack? Lurg and Jur eventually came upon their camp, resting on the far edge of the village, just barely within its confines. Clamors of noise came up from the camp and small figures bustled to and fro, packing up tents and hitching wagons. Inside the camp they approached their paymaster, Furggenstein the overbearing.
"We's done here boss, the manthings want us'n to fight, but we's said no." Lurg told Furggenstein.
"Good, we're just about to head, I've been told by the elector count, through a courier, that the vampire counts are mustering for a push, we have three days to get there." Furggenstein warned. "Hurry up and pack your things, we leave in two hours."
Prologue
"Doomed! Doomed I say! We're all doomed, the forces of chaos march upon us!" screamed some thin manthing. Lurg normally liked the pub in this small human village, but his enjoyment was ruined by this manthing. He kept going on and on about some chaox, and something about doom, Lurg liked doom-ale, but his mother, doom-hilda, scared him. Taking another swig of his ale, Lurg looked at his companion to his left. He stared at a meticulously kept mustache, and a beard clean of food. His companion's one good eye turned to regard him.
"What're staring at there, Lurg?" he asked, taking a long drink of his wine. Lurg stared incredulously as his companion daintily wiped the wine off from around his lips. This was not proper behavior for an ogre! But then again, Jur, or, as he liked to be called, Joseph, was a weird one.
"Nufink, Joe, just thinkin', why is dat manthing so whiny?" Lurg asked, eager to find out.
Jur said nothing for awhile, finally saying "I don't really know Lurg, I think a small band of chaos warriors was sighted by the scouts earlier today. That probably isn't a good thing for a small village like this one, but the empire is used to losing villages like this one." Lurg snickered, "Is dat why he so whiny? Dat's funny! I like fighting dem warriors, but only when dey are red, doze purple ones are not easy to smash and da green ones smell werid." Jur sighed, "Yes Lurg, the Tzeentch warriors are hard to kill, and the nurgle warriors do smell werid, but the Khorne warriors are just berzerkers, no honor at all in killing them."
A small, well-kempt man approached the pair with an air of barely suppressed panic.
"Excuse me gents, but I was told by your paymaster that you'd be the ones I was hiring, are you Lurg and Jur?" the man asked.
"Aye, that's us, but i'm Jospeh, not Jur, and since you talked to our paymaster, do you remember the weird scar he has on his left cheek? The one that looks like the letter P?" Joseph said.
"Oh aye, I remember that scar, odd one that, anyway lets go!" the man said, looking harried.
"Oh really? Well you've talked to the wrong paymaster, our paymaster doesn't have a scar like that, so you'd best be getting out of here before I have my friend here take you out." Jur exclaimed.
The man reddened and sputtered, "But, but, you've got to help us, there's a huge force coming out of the woods! Beastmen, and warriors of chaos, we can get you the money somehow!"
"Hur hur, silly man, we no care for money, we's here for the big fights, dis just a stop fer us, we no care whut happens to yer village. And anyways, da big fights I wus talkin' 'bout, we's already been hired." Lurg chuckled and promptly took the small manthing by the scruff of his neck and flung him out the window of the inn without further adieu. Jur clapped his hands in delight and said "Good one Lurg, I knew we were friends for some reason!" Jur flicked a coin to the bartender standing nearby, "We should probably get going, the rest of us will probably move on before the village gets hit." The pair got up and shoved their way out of the inn. Outside, they walked for a few minutes, drinking in the squalor of the village. Lurg liked to see how the manthings lived, it gave him a much greater appreciation for how he lived back in the mountains of mourn. Who in their right mind wouldn't have little greenthings to carry things or have for the occasional snack? Lurg and Jur eventually came upon their camp, resting on the far edge of the village, just barely within its confines. Clamors of noise came up from the camp and small figures bustled to and fro, packing up tents and hitching wagons. Inside the camp they approached their paymaster, Furggenstein the overbearing.
"We's done here boss, the manthings want us'n to fight, but we's said no." Lurg told Furggenstein.
"Good, we're just about to head, I've been told by the elector count, through a courier, that the vampire counts are mustering for a push, we have three days to get there." Furggenstein warned. "Hurry up and pack your things, we leave in two hours."
WHFB 8th ed W/L/
Vampire's 19 4
Ogres 31 11
Skaven 12 0
Empire 3 6
Vampire's 19 4
Ogres 31 11
Skaven 12 0
Empire 3 6