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Tor watched as his uncle Glaukus moved towards him through the formation, tower shield over his head for protection. The axe and spear tip of halberd was coated in goblin gore, evidence that his uncle had just left the front line and the dwarven phalanx had completed its first rotation.
"Get yer blade up boy, the bodies are pilin' up." his uncle said, chastizing Tor's lack of battle readiness. Tor had never been in a battle before, years of training had prepared the Private for this moment but the battle cries of the dwarven soldiers ahead and the screams of dying goblins were nothing like he had expected. Tor straightened his greatsword and took a quiet breath through his beard. The "vaulters" next to him were seasoned veterans, he only hoped he could hold his own when the time came.
The clear call of the command horn cut through the din of battle. Glaucus knelt in front of Tor and dropped his shield at an angle. Instinctively, Tor's boots charged up the incline and under his ringing foot falls he heard his uncle yell, "Don' let meh have teh step over yeh lad!" Each of Tor's steps was met by the clang of a dwarven tower shield as he and a line of warriors sprinted across the top of the formation. In a matter of moments, Tor had reached the front line and as quarrels whizzed past his head as Tor leaped. Vaguely conscious of his own battle cry, his last powerful step carried him over the pile of dead enemies, past the bristling halberds of the phalanx, and into a sea of goblins. Instinct and training took over as the greatsword's of Tor and the other vaulters gave the formation time to push over the goblin corpses and press the attack.
"Get yer blade up boy, the bodies are pilin' up." his uncle said, chastizing Tor's lack of battle readiness. Tor had never been in a battle before, years of training had prepared the Private for this moment but the battle cries of the dwarven soldiers ahead and the screams of dying goblins were nothing like he had expected. Tor straightened his greatsword and took a quiet breath through his beard. The "vaulters" next to him were seasoned veterans, he only hoped he could hold his own when the time came.
The clear call of the command horn cut through the din of battle. Glaucus knelt in front of Tor and dropped his shield at an angle. Instinctively, Tor's boots charged up the incline and under his ringing foot falls he heard his uncle yell, "Don' let meh have teh step over yeh lad!" Each of Tor's steps was met by the clang of a dwarven tower shield as he and a line of warriors sprinted across the top of the formation. In a matter of moments, Tor had reached the front line and as quarrels whizzed past his head as Tor leaped. Vaguely conscious of his own battle cry, his last powerful step carried him over the pile of dead enemies, past the bristling halberds of the phalanx, and into a sea of goblins. Instinct and training took over as the greatsword's of Tor and the other vaulters gave the formation time to push over the goblin corpses and press the attack.