Lord Barrett
Veteran
Sorry I couldn't think of a better title for this thread. This is about troops of yours that you have grown fond of for whatever reason. NOT COMPANIONS. I'll start.
In my current game, I'm still a fairly low level, 16, I think. Anyway, I happen to have 1 Huscarl. He's the only Huscarl I've had the whole game. In fact, all the other Nords I had were all killed in a massive battle, except for the beserker of a man. This little fella is absolutely bloodthirsty. He uses a 2H axe and javelins with no shield, which is usually a death wish for Huscarls (especially when you are fighting the Rhodoks as I am). I have named him Uhtred.
Anywho, we just finished fighting this one battle where we were outnumbered 3 to 2. My party is all low levels, especially the troops (for the most part, obviously). Anyway, for some reason Uhtred decided to completely ignore my "Hold Here" command and charge straight into the enemy party. We were fighing a large group of forest bandits, about 3 dozen or so. Of course, I send the rest of my band cascading after him, because I don't want him to get gang-raped. Apparently I had little to fear.
For at least a solid minute, it was just Uhtred and I fighting the enemy while the rest of the crew caught up. He got the very first kill of the battle with his throwing axes. I watched the feed and he got 3 kills with those. I was riding through the enemy on my steed, trying to distract the enemy from my friend to give him a fighting chance. Apparently, my hore was a metal magnet and was shot out from underneath me in record time. I tumbled into the middle of their still 30 strong warband, ready to recieve my facehugging doom from all sides.
As I was getting up, I saw two of the enemy crumple from some unseen onslaught. Who was my rescuer? None other than Uhtred himself. At this point, he had 4 arrows sticking out of him and the head of his axe was soaked in blood. I swear that we both paused for a second and shared a glance. Then I pulled out my greatsword and with his axe by my side, slaughtered the rest of the brigands foolish enough to stand in our way. He added another 7 notches to his axe that day, bringing his total kills for the battle up to 12.
Manly tears will be shed when he finally falls like a true Nord should, surrounded by his slain foes on the battlefield.
Anyone else have epic tales of troop greatness? Or hilarity, unintentional though it may be?
In my current game, I'm still a fairly low level, 16, I think. Anyway, I happen to have 1 Huscarl. He's the only Huscarl I've had the whole game. In fact, all the other Nords I had were all killed in a massive battle, except for the beserker of a man. This little fella is absolutely bloodthirsty. He uses a 2H axe and javelins with no shield, which is usually a death wish for Huscarls (especially when you are fighting the Rhodoks as I am). I have named him Uhtred.
Anywho, we just finished fighting this one battle where we were outnumbered 3 to 2. My party is all low levels, especially the troops (for the most part, obviously). Anyway, for some reason Uhtred decided to completely ignore my "Hold Here" command and charge straight into the enemy party. We were fighing a large group of forest bandits, about 3 dozen or so. Of course, I send the rest of my band cascading after him, because I don't want him to get gang-raped. Apparently I had little to fear.
For at least a solid minute, it was just Uhtred and I fighting the enemy while the rest of the crew caught up. He got the very first kill of the battle with his throwing axes. I watched the feed and he got 3 kills with those. I was riding through the enemy on my steed, trying to distract the enemy from my friend to give him a fighting chance. Apparently, my hore was a metal magnet and was shot out from underneath me in record time. I tumbled into the middle of their still 30 strong warband, ready to recieve my facehugging doom from all sides.
As I was getting up, I saw two of the enemy crumple from some unseen onslaught. Who was my rescuer? None other than Uhtred himself. At this point, he had 4 arrows sticking out of him and the head of his axe was soaked in blood. I swear that we both paused for a second and shared a glance. Then I pulled out my greatsword and with his axe by my side, slaughtered the rest of the brigands foolish enough to stand in our way. He added another 7 notches to his axe that day, bringing his total kills for the battle up to 12.
Manly tears will be shed when he finally falls like a true Nord should, surrounded by his slain foes on the battlefield.
Anyone else have epic tales of troop greatness? Or hilarity, unintentional though it may be?
