Author Topic: Spin your yarn here! Tales of Valor and...errr...Courage!  (Read 70659 times)

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Age of Revolutions mod
« Reply #405 on: July 25, 2012, 12:17:53 PM »
As the young hero leads his band of musket soldiers to battle to punish looters, he looks with satisfaction at his infantry line while reloading. Then he feels a sharp pain and the world goes black. (hero is hit by stray bullet)


This tale is spun so many times. The enemy isn't even aiming for you, but their damn weapons are so inaccurate, probably the only safe place is directly in front of them. I'm half surprised noone shot himself yet. While aiming at an enemy right in front of him, the hero in fact killed someone taking aim some way back. The enemy was quickly finished with good, decent, reliable hand to hand weapons

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Re: Age of Revolutions mod
« Reply #406 on: July 25, 2012, 02:11:02 PM »
I suggest you hire some Jaegers/Riflemen and get a rifle yourself.
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You could say that he finds hungarian tanks riveting.


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Re: Spin your yarn here! Tales of Valor and...errr...Courage!
« Reply #407 on: September 19, 2012, 01:01:58 AM »
Story I posted last year around the release of WFaS.
This here is the story of one Herman_von_SCHNEIDER, a prussian mercenary wanting to prove his worth.

herman_von_SCHNEIDER first saw combat in the battle of Albertsgrad (I made that up, i can't remember the map name).
There he joined the swedes as a mercenary fighting against some polish peasants.
He was kicking ass chewing bubblegum but all out of gum, with 5-0 kill death ratio.
He found himself alone on the battlefield, his swedish allies dead all around him, with
the enemy hidden in a nearby building. He took out his pistol and charged into the house
like a madman. No less than 3 riflemen, hiding behind a table, suddenly stood up and fired
their rifles. Herman dodged with incredible skill and fired his handgun right into the head
of the first unfortunate sodd. No time to reload he took out his gigantic great sword,
dripping the blood of previous victims. He held the sword above his head ready to strike,
the polish peasants cringing with fear closed their eyes waiting for the finishing blows.

The blow never came. Hermans gigantic sword had gotten stuck in the roof of the house.
Needless to say, Herman is dead now. Bludgeoned to death by riflebutts.

(This is a true WFaS multiplayer story)
The sword was too big for the room, so I couldn't swing and got ganged up on  :lol:
« Last Edit: September 19, 2012, 01:04:32 AM by Scully »

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Re: Spin your yarn here! Tales of Valor and...errr...Courage!
« Reply #408 on: December 18, 2012, 03:13:15 PM »
Aurora grinned at the big, smelly axeman.   He paused, and she knew why - only confident people or the insane grin when faced by big, axe-wielding barbarians.
Right now, she was one of the insane, but the smelly bastard didn't need to know that.

She held her hunting knife loosely in her left hand, and her last arrow in her right.   The arrow was now useless - the bowstring had broken - but if nothing else she might be able to distract him with it for a half-second.

There was nobody else around - the fight outside in the village was just a vague background murmer.   A sensation of heat behind her reminded Aurora that she was inside a burning building.   She kept trying to circle round to the right, trying to put herself closer to the stone fireplace.   Her adversary didn't know, but concealed in the shadows of the fireplace was a heavy coal rake.  Longer than her arm, and with a stylised trident head, the iron bar would make a nice weapon.

But the barbarian didn't want her to go anywhere - he grunted and snarled, and stepped threateningly forward, and she was forced to duck as the axe twirled, a grey streak in the dim room.  The swing was half-hearted, little more than a feint to interrupt her movement, and it had worked.  She started again, drawing him left, then ducking right.
This time, she got past his guard, aided by a jab of the arrow towards his eyes.   He flinched - he hadn't expected the arrow to be used as a weapon at all - and Aurora found herself with her booted right foot on the edge of the fireplace flagstones.

The axe came round again, and she realised as she flung herself back and down, that she had just trapped herself in a corner.   She grabbed the coal rake - thank ****! she thought - the handle was heavily counterbalanced, so that raking the coals was easily done one-handed.  The axe screamed like a banshee as it scraped down the stones of the fireplace, inches from her arm.

Now though, her adversary had finally committed himself to a full blow, and it was all the opening she needed:  She slapped the coal rake down on his knuckles, it was not her strongest blow, but it was enough to let her put everything else into a left-handed thrust.  The axeman had released his grip on the axe with his right hand, the knuckles stinging painfully, and he was able to pull back, but Aurora kept coming forward, her feet getting a firm purchase on the stone of the fireplace, and the long heavy knifeblade sank through the bear pelt and into the soft corner between collarbone and shoulder.

The man spat curses in his foul language and tried to hammer the axe onto her skull with his left hand, but his grip was wrong and only the wooden haft came crashing down behind her ear.  She could see the blade out of the corner of her left eye and the barbarian's right arm twitched and jerked as he tried to grab his weapon, refusing to believe that the knife in his shoulder had completely disabled the limb.

Aurora twisted as the man changed tactics, using his muscular left arm to trap her in a vice-like bearhug.  She was trapped, and they collapsed together on the dirty floor.  She lost hold of her knife as the big man landed on top of her, but she also heard the crack of bone breaking beneath her - she felt no pain herself, and was struck with the realisation that the barbarian's left arm or hand had been broken in the fall.   His filthy animal skin cloak scoured across her chest and face as he tried to suffocate her with his weight and bulk.  She jabbed her fists into his kidneys, but it was like punching a treetrunk.  Breathing became painful as the man's powerful chest forced the filthy bearskin into her mouth and nose.  Reaching up with her fingers she tried to jab at his eyes, but he had worked his left arm free now, and whatever was broken, it didn't stop him from trapping one of her arms with it.  Her left arm knocked against the hilt of her knife, and she felt the involuntary twitch as the blade ground into the barbarian's collarbone.

Heaving with her feet and left arm, she tried to throw him off, but he was too heavy.  She did, however, gain some respite: The greasy animal hide, mingled with the sweat from her bare skin, was enough lubrication for her to slip sideways a little.  She heaved air into her lungs, but sudden pain made her cough it all back out again.  Somehow, he had twisted his hips enough to bring his knee up, and although it had missed the intended target of her groin, the blow was heavy enough to half-numb her left thigh.

Almost in reflex, she tried the same blow, her left knee coming up and across, aiming for the fragile testicles.   She made enough contact that the barbarian released a muted squeal, and she felt his weight shift again.  Her left arm, still scrabbling for some chance to inflict damage on the enemy, suddenly grasped the hilt of her own knife.   It was slick with blood, and the angle was awkward - she could only grip around the ball of the hilt - but she shook it and ground it into her opponent, and this time she knew she had scored a killing hit - his cry of rage was drowned in a froth of pink bubbles as blood filled his lungs.

Suddenly weakened, he couldn't counter Aurora's next moves, and in a few heartbeats she was out from underneath him, ripping the knife free.   Blood washed over the floor.  She wasn't taking any chances though, and rammed the blade down into the base of his neck.

She stood, shakily.  Her back and thigh ached, and she was filthy - the man had spewed blood in her hair, and the grease and dirt of his furs had mixed with her own sweat and lastly his blood to paint a hideous pattern across her throat and breasts.  She heaved deep breaths, just glad to be alive.   The sounds of the battle outside roared back into her consciousness, and the heat from the fire suddenly battered her from behind.  She staggered, feeling the tiny hairs on her back suddenly singe into nothingness.  She half-turned just in time to see the black and red horror of the roof beginning to cave in as the fire raced up the wall in greedy white-yellow serpents.

She forced her legs to move, a wordless scream of defiance on her lips as the pain stabbed up her leg with every step.  Smoke and flames seemed to reach for her with murderous fingers, but somehow she reached the doorway....,12250.msg208344.html#msg208344

Family IS more important than Mount and Blade. 

Family D'Stazia.  (A, K and S )

PS - this line plugs TPW - The Peninsular War mod.,42454.0.html

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Re: Spin your yarn here! Tales of Valor and...errr...Courage!
« Reply #409 on: December 21, 2012, 08:46:30 PM »
"Post your Dream Woman" hits 1,000 pages in a few months, this hits 28 pages in 8 years.

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Re: Spin your yarn here! Tales of Valor and...errr...Courage!
« Reply #410 on: December 22, 2012, 12:43:45 AM »
maybe I should post this across there, and see how long it is before some 'derived' artwork appears..... ;-),12250.msg208344.html#msg208344

Family IS more important than Mount and Blade. 

Family D'Stazia.  (A, K and S )

PS - this line plugs TPW - The Peninsular War mod.,42454.0.html


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Re: Spin your yarn here! Tales of Valor and...errr...Courage!
« Reply #411 on: December 24, 2012, 07:41:43 AM »
"Post your Dream Woman" hits 1,000 pages in a few months, this hits 28 pages in 8 years.
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Re: Spin your yarn here! Tales of Valor and...errr...Courage!
« Reply #412 on: October 23, 2013, 09:42:19 PM »
I always thought this and Armagan's thread were never in the right board. I mean this is off-topic still and these are very on-topic threads.
"In that direction" Captain Lust said, waving his right hand round, "lives off-topic forum posters, and in that direction," waving the other hand, "lives on-topic forum posters. Visit either you like: They're both mad." "But I don't want to go among mad people," The recruit remarked. "Oh you can't help that," said the Captain: "we're all mad here. I"m mad. You're mad. "How do you know I'm mad!" said the recruit. "You must be," said the Captain, "or you wouldn't have come here."


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Re: Spin your yarn here! Tales of Valor and...errr...Courage!
« Reply #413 on: December 30, 2014, 05:49:25 AM »
*Warning* I am re-awakening the ghosts of Christmas past!

The day was coming to an end, the sun slowly fading over the horizon. As the last waves of light diminished behind that golden line, night fell and the stars themselves began to appear from out of the sky's blackness. Khussan watched as his men positioned themselves atop of the hill overlooking the Swadian caravan. The glow of their campfires stretched far over the plains like a candle in a dark room. Yet beyond that glow's reach lied utter darkness. In that darkness Khussan's men laid hidden, ready to pounce on their unsuspecting prey. As ordered by nightfall, his men charged, releasing from their bows arrows strong enough to pierce the thickest of steel. The Swadians fell quickly, the few to react slain as they searched helplessly for the enemy, for arrows from every direction out of the black night came to them. Khussan's men charged, setting fire to tents and already inspecting the goods they planned to make off with. Meanwhile, the merchants barricaded themselves in their own tent as those who had sworn to guard them were already dead; arrows sticking out of the bodies like thorns in a rose bush. The merchants stood their ground as Khussan's men ripped the cloth of the tent, allowing him entry to his newly acquired prisoners. They cursed and resisted as Khussan's men shackled and chained them all together, but to no avail. It was yet another victory, one Khussan would latter celebrate at the drinking halls of Narra.


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Re: Spin your yarn here! Tales of Valor and...errr...Courage!
« Reply #414 on: November 06, 2016, 08:13:24 PM »
AAR for something that happened in a game several months ago, so I'm a mite fuzzy on the details. I also decided to have a try at writing Bunduk, and stroke my ego a bit in the process. :p

Graeghan only had himself to blame, he knew. He was pushing his troop hard, not scouting ahead properly in a rush to get... whatever it was, it didn't seem that important compared to a 300-strong band of sea raider which was coming at them right now. Bunduk was muttering behind him, either praying or cursing his commander for a fool, and Graeghan knew both were warranted. He drew his bow and notched the first arrow, determined to get at least few shots in before the inevitable press of bodies would drive him into the river.

The river...

An idea came to him then.

He looked to where his horse archers stood and nodded to their captain, Palatinus Nadia. Without a word passing between them, she knew what she had to do. She waved at her men, and they went off at a gallop. They will harass the raiders, hopefully slowing them down long enough for Graeghan to avert the disaster his stupidity brough upon them.

"Everyone, follow me," he shouted and spurred his horse into the water.


Graeghan reached to his quiver and found it was empty. The ground and the river were littered with bodies, most of them enemy corpses spiked with arrows. Graeghan's marksmen, mounted and on foot, earned their wages ten times over that day; the few raiders who made it across were ruthlessly cut down when they ran into the shieldwall his footmen were holding on the bank. The ones who got through regardless, were ridden down by cavalry holding the flanks.

It's all going well, considering.

Graeghan slung his bow across his back and drew his sword. It was a marvellous blade he'd purchased at Yalen - ostensibly a greatsword, it was so well balanced it could be wielded with one hand, while losing none of its reach and killing power. His companions cautioned Graeghan that in a tight press of bodies it would be the death of him - Graeghan acknowledged the merits of their argument but could not bear to part with the weapon.

He dismounted and went on to join the shield wall.


It was all over.

Just like that.

The sea raiders were dead or routed. Each of his men killed at least five of the enemy; Graeghan himself slaughtered a dozen, dancing and pivoting across the riverbank one instant, standing firm in the shield wall the next. Katrin and Jeremus worked miracles - of the score or so gravely wounded only a handful couldn't be saved. How his troops cheered when it was all over! How they rejoiced at the loot they collected!

Much later, at a tavern in Tihr, Bunduk laughed at something the tavern girl told him, whispered something in her ear that made her giggle, pressed a few denars into her palm, and sent her off with a wink. Ever the ladies' man, old Bunduk. Ugly, covered in scars, but a ladies' man nonetheless.

"I thought you and Katrin had a thing going," Graeghan remarked.

"We're both old enough to play by ourselves from time to time," Bunduk answered with a broad grin.

"What did she say to you?"

"That my face could serve for a checkers board."

"And what did you say to her?"

"That she's not seen the half of it," Bunduk's grin broadened even more.

Graeghan took a sip of his ale and stared into the fire.

"Something bothering you, brother?" Bunduk asked.

"We came close today," Graeghan said gloomily. "Too damned close for my liking."

Bunduk nodded. "Aye, that we did. But it turned out well, didn't it?"

"Through no fault of mine though."

"You do yourself a disservice. The best army in the world is nothing without a good leader," said Bunduk sagely. "You made a blunder today, aye. But you kept a cool head, improvised, led from the front, and gave us victory. Even good leaders make mistakes, brother. And you are good; and you care for the troops you lead."

Graeghan took another sip of ale. It seemed to taste better this time.

"But the next time you decide to face three hundred sea raiders with seventy men give me some warning," Bunduk continued. " and I'll bring a spare pair of breeches."

Graeghan laughed despite himself.
« Last Edit: November 06, 2016, 08:21:06 PM by Graeghan »
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Re: Spin your yarn here! Tales of Valor and...errr...Courage!
« Reply #415 on: May 18, 2017, 02:45:02 PM »
So I am playing in Prophesy of Pendor very good and huge mod for Warband.
So I am mid - late game, I have the best equipment around and the best troops.
My favorite weapon is the Sapphire Two Handed, and I am running around on my Noldor Goldleaf, and I run into a mystmountain army. For those who don't know, it consists of mystmountain warriors, they're basically huge warriors, high damage, high health, and decent armor. But I have better troops, problem is, I have 300, they have around 1000, this mod isn't easy. But I can take them on, so I do, I charge into battle.

Now all my troops charge them and I might have forgot to mention, the mystmountains have steppe horses. So all my men are charging and are doing better, around 5/1 kd ratio. But I like standing out and picking everyone off, the Sapphire sword I have does 75c damage and has a 137 speed rating, best sword in the game, not joking.
So I am slicing their heads off when their reinforcements show up...right now to me, they all turn, and block my horse then kill it. So after cutting my way out they run off to the fight, but their infantry show a liking to me, so I have a conga line of atleast 30 of these bearclaw berserkers, high damage, but I am blocking them, so I am running backwards just within reach to one hit them.
Just the image of my character jogging backwards as a swarm of nordic long axes swinging at me, should be enough.
Luckily I ended up winning and I actually killed them all, no clue how, but I survived to the end, when I checked, my kill count was 50 - 75.