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Thread: The Three hundred and Twelfth Guildmaster

  1. #1
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    Default The Three hundred and Twelfth Guildmaster

    Ever wonder who was the Guildmaster before Oldin? Ever wonder what it was like to be the leader of the Guild Dwarves without a summoning stone? Want to see some of the battles the Cave Goblins launched into against their age old enemies? Prepare to be enlightened!

    This is the Three hundred and Twelfth Guildmaster, an insight on the summoner that came before Oldin. So sit back, comment, give me feedback and subscribe to the thread as I attempt to weave them web that is the Guild Dwarfs history!

    Please give me feedback. It helps me write and helps me now what I'm doing good at, and what I need to improve on.

    Thanks!
    My Doug (fan) fiction can be found here

    Summoner wars records as of June 1st: 11-2

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    Sharp whispers emerged from the lips of the impatient guild dwarfs as they crouched in the shadows of the caves. Speaking any louder than they currently were might be enough to create an echo off the endless cave walls. The last thing they wanted was the Cave Goblins to hear them. With the swift raising of his hand, Darg cut off all of the senseless chatter. The Guild Dwarf leader was just as eager to strike as his comrades, but he couldn’t risk blowing their cover. Darg was the third youngest Guildmaster out of the three hundred and eleven before him, if you don’t count the dwarf who inherited power at age two and a half. Despite his age of twenty five, Darg was battle marked. Before becoming leader he was a renowned warrior in the Guild Dwarf ranks, giving him the bumps and scars of war that were all the common to these men of courage. Great bellowing laughs drifted from the large room that was just a few yards away. A feast was being held, as they usually were after a successful Cave Goblin strike. Naturally, as Darg had been taught by his father and the fathers before him, always strike when the opponent isn’t expecting it. Oh, did he plan to. Crouching low to the ground, the intrepid leader lifted a hand up and thrust it forward, a sign for a scout to run ahead. With a nod and a grunt, a dwarf crept to the front of the band of about ten. His hand snaked its way towards his belt and rested his hand on a blade that was sheathed there. As he stepped past Darg, the stout scout dwarf named Garge gave a brief salute of respect. Truth be told, it felt odd to be serving under a Guildmaster who was younger than him. However, no thoughts of betrayal ever entered the minds of the warriors. After all, bravery and loyalty were the most prized and respected upon in the entire realm of dwarfs. Garge kept these thoughts in mind as he rounded a corner. No longer could he see his companions and fear began to trickle like a stream of water into his heart. Quickly he fought it off and trudged on, the true Guild Dwarf way.

    I'll continue after I get some reviews! Thanks for reading!
    Last edited by Sneeks7177; 06-02-2013 at 12:40 PM.
    My Doug (fan) fiction can be found here

    Summoner wars records as of June 1st: 11-2

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    As Garge rounded the smooth corner, Darg began to worry for the scout. His father had always warned the son and future Guildmaster that it was never good to make friends in the force, the dwarven name for their army. However, despite the past Leader's suggestion, Darg always felt a part of the army, never a leader. Suddenly there was a grunt, a clang and a thud on the ground further down the hall. The goblins must have noticed! The Guild Dwarf leader must act quickly if they wanted to remain hidden and prevent the Cave Goblins from raising an alarm. The only thing concern was, who's body made the thud?


    Garge crept silently down the smoothly worn cave system. His foot steps scarcely made a sound on the stone floor. The goblins reminded him of ants, always tunneling in such complex ways. The dwarf hoped he wouldn't get lost. Short patterns of footsteps suddenly could be heard coming down the hall in front of him. In one swift motion, Garge unsheathed his blade and waited. Sure enough, a goblin guard ran swiftly around the corner, lugging with him a heavy blade at his side. As soon as he glimpsed the intruder, he opened his mouth, about to shout something. Quick as a flash, Garge pounced on his foe and clamped his free hand on his mouth to prevent him from raising the alarm. The sword was flung from the Cave Goblin's hand and sent flying into the wall with a loud clang. However, the goblin wasn't out of the fight yet. He tossed, turned, punched and and bite at the Dwarf roughly. To finish off his enemy, Garge thrust his knife straight through the Cave Goblin's heart.


    Darg's war band had a lot of talent. He didn't want plain old swordsman, he wanted the cream of the crop. Fortunately, as the Guildmaster, he usually got what he wanted. He raised a hand and flicked his hand, which had two fingers extended. This was their well known sign for a knife thrower. Just mere seconds after the signal was given another Dwarf emerged from the crowd and ran the corner, throwing a knife. Garge, ducked as the knife went right above his head. The knife thrower smiled and sighed deeply. "It's just Garge..." He murmured under his breath in relief. The scout smiled and wiped goblin blood of his knife with his shirt before sheathing it.
    "Coast is clear!"
    My Doug (fan) fiction can be found here

    Summoner wars records as of June 1st: 11-2

  4. #4
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    I liked it. Looking forward to reading more.
    Mom 3-10-1956 12-16-2008
    Dad 4-22-1961 7-18-2009

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    Thanks! I'm just glad someone is actually enjoying it. I feel like I'm talking to myself sometimes.
    My Doug (fan) fiction can be found here

    Summoner wars records as of June 1st: 11-2

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    The war band crept it's way through the dark stone tunnel until they reached their goal: the Great Hall's entrance. A large arch-shaped space led right into the heart of it. Goblins roared with drunken laughter and talked rapidly and loudly. Repulsive creatures, Darg thought. Never would a dwarf act that in dignified. The group fanned out so that half of the band was on the other side of the door way. Luckily for our dwarven heros, there were very few guards at the goblin celebration. The Cave Goblins lived war. They found it to be a good past time. Also, it build an amazing reputation. The more battle scars, the more your regarded as a leader. Due to this fact, the Goblin life span was always very tiny. However, they didnt seem to mind for there ways never changed. Inside the tall and lengthy opening that was used as a sort of gathering hall, the barbarians chanted and feasted, singing songs of the greatness of their leader: Digs. Digs was a craft goblin, and reasonably old for how long they last. Most goblins are relatively week when it comes to strength with the exception of a select few. Digs was one of those select few. He had strong arms and legs, giving him power and agility at the same time; A formidable foe for any goblin or dwarf for the matter. It wasn't so much his strength that made him so popular among the goblins as his skill at hand-to-hand combat. This was a skill that not many of the little creatures possessed and it made him quite famous. Presently, he stood on a large boulder in the middle of the room, which was about four feet off the ground, giving him a height advantage above the others. As soon as he stood on the rock, all the goblins turned there attention to him. Digs opened his mouth to speak when Darg decided to seize the moment. The dwarf leapt into the room, broad sword drawn, and slashed a goblin in half. A high-pitched shout of surprise arose from the throats of the goblins. Following their leader, the rest of the Guild Dwarfs thundered into the room. Digs's eyes narrowed at the sight of his old enemy and he bellowed words that were commonly spoken among the Cave Goblins,
    "Kill 'em!"
    The vile creatures leapt into action, grabbing whatever weapons they could find. Some picked up swords, other knifes and still others stones from the ground. The Dwarfs piles into a tight circle, each protecting the other's back and blind spots. They shot arrow after arrow and slashed goblins after goblins, hacking them down like weeds. A surprise lunge from one of the few blade wielding goblins brought one of the dwarfs down as the blade entered his side. Another killed the goblin and the circle closed around the fallen warrior. Darg was on the verge of exhaustion when he notice that few enemies remained. A few well placed arrows took down the little that did not run away. All that was left was the band of dwarfs and Digs. The young Guildmaster took a courageous step forwards and held his head high.
    "You are out numbered." He stated boldly "Surrender and we shall not slay you." The Goblin chief smirked widely at the words of the other.
    "Who said Iz needs numbas?"
    A flash of pain jolted through Darg as something dull lunged it's way into his back. That was all he remembered of that day.
    My Doug (fan) fiction can be found here

    Summoner wars records as of June 1st: 11-2

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