>Onslaught belong too? Storm Bull?
Nope. Onslaught is a Humakti of the "Man is an instrument of Death" scho=
ol
in that he believes that Death is an end in itself, an honourable end and=
a
true warrior should be able to kill with anything baring weapons he has
chosen not to kill with for reasons of Geas..
I posted Onslaughts stats over a year ago, much to the annoyance of some Digesters who considered his 167% bite attack a bit extreme..... =
Glad you liked the excerpt anyway - here's another one from the Deville/Onslaught comedy team:
Lissus sighed heavily as he packed the last of Devilles extensive=
wardrobe into the mountain of chests and containers arrayed around the
room. All of it was going into storage and his master would be travellin=
g
with a meagre nine changes of robe! Lissus himself was dreading the
trip. How was one meant to cook a decent five course meal while
travelling in a desert? It just wasn't decent, it just
wasn't....well...civilised!
He carried on patiently folding the clothing but was fully aware =
of
the missions scribe; Omander Eaglemane, sneaking up on him. The
scrawny young scoundrel had a passion for practical jokes and his first
mistake of the day was attempting one on Lissus. What the cunning
young man didn't know was that Lissus was linked to a sight sense
projection in the corner of the room and could see everything behind him
as if looking in a mirror.
Timing it perfectly, mere moments before the scribe could loudly smash the two pans he was carrying together to scare his prey, Lissus wheeled round with considerable speed, a large sack of boots swinging with him. They connected sharply with Omanders groinal area and the young man displayed some amazing facial palpitations as his eyes bulged, his face paled then reddened and a strange low moan, familiar to all men who have been hit hard in the crotch, issued from his tightened lips. He hit the floor hard, adopting a 'U' shape.
"Oh dear, what a terrible accident!" Said Lissus, voice dripping
contriteness. "And you were bringing me my pans to pack too!" He
shook his head sadly. "How the Gods laugh at us eh? An act of
kindness rewarded by pain. Tsk tsk." Omander merely groaned. Lissus
smiled then felt the air around him chill slightly. He looked up.
"Hit in the balls eh?" Said Onslaught from the doorway. He was
wearing his hauberk and trews with his sword, casual wear for him. The
metal grin he displayed was fearsome but to one who knew him well, also
spoke of humour.
"Yes, a terrible accident." =
"Aaargh! Accident! Most precisely targetted accident I ever saw!=
"
Groaned Omander from the floor.
Onslaught sidled over and picked the young man up with one hand, holding him so high his feet left the floor. "Ha! A real warrior would pay no attention to a groinal hit. I have developed a technique to=
massage your balls up behind the bone, reducing the possiblity of distracting pain while in battle. I'll show you how to do it now. =
'Course,
if they're swollen it'll be really painful but that which does not kill u=
s
makes us stronger eh?"
Lissus winced at the look of terror in Omanders eyes as the big warrior frog-marched him out of the room to his own. He was still wincing at the sounds of excruciating pain coming from Onslaughts room when Deville came in.
"Whats all the noise?" He asked, frowning.
"Er, Sword Onsalught is 'instructing' young Omander sir."
"Instructing? Sounds like he's eviscerating him to me!"
"A startlingly close observation sir."
Deville shook his head. "Well I've just had another salutory
meeting with the Governor. If I didn't know better I'd say he feels sorr=
y
for me! I'm not sure I can handle all these people being nice to me. Ha=
s
Croise arrived yet?"
"He's in your study sir, has been for some time. I told him that=
you bound a Tax Demon into the room and if he steals anything his soul will be torn apart."
"A good ploy but with Croise I fear telling him that Sheng Seleri=
s
was guarding my posessions would not deter him. He is a very
determined and redoubtable fellow...for a thief." A devillish look cross=
ed
his fine features. "Hmm, lets see how redoubtable he is eh?"
Once the servant had left with the food tray, Croise fingered the=
silver inkwell delicately. He moved it slightly. Then looked around sharply. His detect magic spell would be useless in this room, warded as=
it had to be, but his sense of the unusual should warn him. It had saved=
his life in the past.
Nothing happened to him.
He picked up the inkwell and held it in his hand.
Nothing happened to him.
He very quietly and slowly put it into his pocket.
"What the Hell are you doing Croise!?!" Roared Deville in his ear=
as
Annila's cloak fell from him. Croise's backside jerked several inches fr=
om
the seat his chair and hung, terrified in Umaths element for what seemed
an eternity till the power of Ernalda pulled him back. =
"Na-na-nothing!" He stammered as Deville leaned right over him,
the fury of a tsunami lighting his features. =
"So why did you just put one of my most treasured personal
possessions in your pocket?" Bellowed Deville, enjoying himself
thoroughly.
Croise was too scared to notice Devilles humour. "Oh great lord,=
it
fell and attracted dirt and your humble servant was but cleaning it insid=
e
his cloth pocket for your pleasure!" He rattled out. The look of servil=
e
honesty was amazing.
Deville couldn't help himself. He began to laugh, then roar with=
mirth. Croise looked on, amazed, while the hilarity continued. When he had some hold of himself Deville sat down in his chair and wiped his eyes. "Croise, you should be an actor! They would love you in Glamour, the lovable rogue!"
"So I can keep the inkwell?" Said Croise hopefully.
Deville's eyes widened in amazement and he broke into even louder=
laughter for some time while Croise sat there perplexed. "Oh, you are priceless!" Groaned Deville as he clenched his fist into his pained stomach. Too much mirth can be bad for you. "No you can't keep it, and put back the candlesticks and the tinderbox as well."
Croise did so without looking even remotely remorseful or sheepish. Now he knew he wasn't going to die a horrible death he even managed to appear nonchalant. "Well what yer want with us then?" =
Deville became serious of expression though not without effort. =
"As you know, I'm leaving tomorrow and I may be gone some time. =
However, regardless of what anyone else thinks, I _will_ be back. I want=
you to keep your ear to the wind and collect information on all the activities you think I might be interested in." Deville reached into his=
robe and pulled out a weighty pouch and tossed it to Croise. "There is a=
hundred Wheels, that should tide you over for now."
Croise grinned, teeth crooked and gaping. "Ah, I always said abo=
ut
you that you was a real gent an' no mistake!" He adopted a slightly
troubled look. Deville wasn't surprised. "Who will I have as me contact=
and protector like, while you're out of town?"
Deville reached into his robe again and pulled out a sealed note.= =
"Take this note to Garrath Sharpsword, he's forming a group of exbrotherhood men to take the fight to the Blackfang and his henchmen. I did him a favour recently and we have developed a certain rapport. Give him this and he will help you until I return. He may even have some interesting work opportunities for you..."
Croise grabbed the note and nodded gratefully. "Thank you good sir and luck be with you in the fires of the Wastes!" He stood and reached the doorway, bowing obsequiously as he retreated. Deville favoured him with a benign smile but as he reached the doorway it disappeared.
"Oh Croise.....?"
Croise stopped halfway out of the door. "Yessir?"
"You were going to put that statuette back weren't you?" =
Croise looked perplexed until Devilles eyes narrowed. "Oh! That=
statuette! Why yes sir, I was just moving it to a more favourable positi=
on
by the window your Lordship where it'll catch Yelm better, 'tis high
quality gold after all......" =
The endless stream of excuses rolled onto deaf ears as Deville placed his head in his hands and let, for a brief time, the cares of the Empire and the world fade into the distance.
Onslaught shook his head sadly while Lissus tried to revive Omander who lay prostrate on the floor, like a sack of moldy potatoes. =
"What happened?" Asked Lissus pointedly.
"I dunno!" Protested Onslaught. "I was just showing him how to
put his balls behind his bone for protection...."
"Yes, I remember. And then?" Asked Lissus as the young man
groaned into semi-consciousness.
"Well we had trouble at first, they wouldn't go up but I solved
that
problem by giving him a good hard punch in the crotch. They seemed to
go up fine after that but he just blacked out! Weird! Is he ill or
something?"
Lissus stood, an angry look on his face. "You know your problem Onslaught?" From the warriors bemused expression, obviously he did not. "You need to get out more!"
This and the other Deville stories are on Kim Englunds superb web site pl=
us
a couple of Onslaught stories too.
Martin Laurie
End of Glorantha Digest V4 #424
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