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spawning of Bob
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14. Time On
By the time Therref had got to Kuada-Boc's end of the line up, his hands were full of items such as clubs, short knives, long knives, knuckledusters and a rubber chicken. Being encumbered, he gave the patrol leader and the grinning fungus the most cursory of inspections, then he handed off the weaponry to a waiting Fahann.
Therref relieved Kuada-Boc of the quango and produced a small circular token which he flipped into the air and allowed to fall to earth. Fungus and Therref stooped to inspect it where it lay, and the official nodded. The quango was promptly returned to Kuada-Boc’s claws. As Therref bent to retrieve the golden disk, Fungus stepped back out of his way and appraised the cloudless sky. Then he let a handful of arena dust trickle from his clenched fist so he could gauge the direction of the wind. Last of all he thrust the fist into his pants and adjusted his ork-strap. This procedure made a faint jingling sound.
Therref never did find the wayward gold token.
With the line inspection over, the patrol moved into a tight huddle.
“We get to start with the quango. That’s good.” Kuada-Boc handed it to Centra.
The cohort skink wedged it tightly between his claws. “Which plan should we use? We’ve got a lot of them to choose from.”
“Maybe too many.” The leader considered for a moment. “They are all just hypothetical. Guesses about the best way to smuggle an egg past greenskins. We won’t know which are going to be good options until we see what the Raiders actually do.
“For the first one or two pushes, just drive straight ahead. We can afford to play reactively while we get a feel for their strengths. All we have to do is not drop the quango.”
“You mean all you have to do is not drop the quango.”
PHEEEEEEEEEEP!
“Eleven only on each side. I’ll prepare the oranges.” Chaffi was almost halfway back to the dugout.
“Chaffi! Get back here. You are the fastest runner in the patrol-”
“A life time of practice,” snorted Brocnos.
“Enough. You other lizards are the reserves. Resva with me, like usual. Everyone else line up against a greenskin of similar size. Put your claw down, Chaffi. What is it?”
“The Raiders run-on patrol is short one goblin, and arranging the oranges is a very important job, according to the plaques.”
“Then line up opposite Dead-eye. You said he would be easy to evade.”
“That was when he had a four foot plank in his trousers.”
“Shut up and line up.”
When the battle line was almost set Kuada-Boc felt the bowl magic spread over him like a muffling blanket. Despite the huge noise coming from the mixed crowd, the sound seemed to be coming from far away. Actually it seemed like the sound was going far away, somehow whipped from screaming throats and propelled so quickly towards the sky that Kuada-Boc barely had a chance to hear it first.
The now familiar time-dilation on effect was also in force. The lines were largely still, each pairing as equally matched as possible. Except for Chaffi and Dead-eye. At the last moment, Chaffi broke from his position and scampered to the opposite flank. Dead-eye was taken by surprise and was a half dozen steps behind in mirroring his tiny counterpart’s position change. Centra must have seen some advantage in this, and he snapped the quango back without waiting for a signal.
In less time than it took for the quango to reach Kuada-Boc’s chest, the vanguard lines met with a muffled crunch. The most impressive collision was between Ta’kul and the troll, but even the lesser clashes between saurus and orc were notable for their intensity. Centra had immediately been set upon by a wiry hobgoblin, and the other skinks were almost being overwhelmed by others of goblin kind. The line was holding, but it wasn’t going anywhere, and therefore neither was the quango.
Something eventually had to give, and it did when Dead-eye got sick of dodging from one side of the central melee to the other. The orc charged directly at the line between Centra and Brocnos. The saurus pivoted and got a claw on him. This slowed Dead-eye enough that Chaffi could skitter safely away, but it also created a hint of an opening behind Brocnos tail.
Fungus squirmed through the gap and was onto Kuada-Boc in an agonizingly slow instant of bowl time. The patrol leader’s legs were cut out from under him and he found himself in the middle of a painful mushroom-pitch sandwich. He curled himself into a ball around the quango simultaneously with making the discovery that slow motion pain hurt every bit as much as usual. It just lasted longer.
Normal flow of time resumed with a huge roar and a piercing PHEEEEEEEEEEP.
Resva helped Kuada-Boc to his feet. “That wasn’t so bad, although we lost a few yards.”
“Wasn’t so bad?” Kuada-Boc scowled at his counterpart who was slinking back behind the greenskin line. “How many elbows do goblins have? Fungus must have at least three, and he drove them all into my abdomen after I was on the ground.”
The huddle reformed and each player, barring Resva and Chaffi, compared bruises and minor wounds.
Brocnos had a dark look. “What the hell was that, Chaffi?”
“I’m working on my ah… tactical retreat.”
“It looked more like fully fledged strategic withdrawal. You will hold position beside me or it won’t just be orcs chasing you.”
Kuada-Boc laid out the next plan. “We’ve lost some ground, and none of our set plans will work from this far back. We just need to push harder this time so we can force a gap.”
The patrol lined up again with the anxious Chaffi to the right of Brocnos in the ‘shield’ wall. Time slowed, sound muted, Centra snapped the quango back, and Chaffi bolted.
By the time Therref had got to Kuada-Boc's end of the line up, his hands were full of items such as clubs, short knives, long knives, knuckledusters and a rubber chicken. Being encumbered, he gave the patrol leader and the grinning fungus the most cursory of inspections, then he handed off the weaponry to a waiting Fahann.
Therref relieved Kuada-Boc of the quango and produced a small circular token which he flipped into the air and allowed to fall to earth. Fungus and Therref stooped to inspect it where it lay, and the official nodded. The quango was promptly returned to Kuada-Boc’s claws. As Therref bent to retrieve the golden disk, Fungus stepped back out of his way and appraised the cloudless sky. Then he let a handful of arena dust trickle from his clenched fist so he could gauge the direction of the wind. Last of all he thrust the fist into his pants and adjusted his ork-strap. This procedure made a faint jingling sound.
Therref never did find the wayward gold token.
With the line inspection over, the patrol moved into a tight huddle.
“We get to start with the quango. That’s good.” Kuada-Boc handed it to Centra.
The cohort skink wedged it tightly between his claws. “Which plan should we use? We’ve got a lot of them to choose from.”
“Maybe too many.” The leader considered for a moment. “They are all just hypothetical. Guesses about the best way to smuggle an egg past greenskins. We won’t know which are going to be good options until we see what the Raiders actually do.
“For the first one or two pushes, just drive straight ahead. We can afford to play reactively while we get a feel for their strengths. All we have to do is not drop the quango.”
“You mean all you have to do is not drop the quango.”
PHEEEEEEEEEEP!
“Eleven only on each side. I’ll prepare the oranges.” Chaffi was almost halfway back to the dugout.
“Chaffi! Get back here. You are the fastest runner in the patrol-”
“A life time of practice,” snorted Brocnos.
“Enough. You other lizards are the reserves. Resva with me, like usual. Everyone else line up against a greenskin of similar size. Put your claw down, Chaffi. What is it?”
“The Raiders run-on patrol is short one goblin, and arranging the oranges is a very important job, according to the plaques.”
“Then line up opposite Dead-eye. You said he would be easy to evade.”
“That was when he had a four foot plank in his trousers.”
“Shut up and line up.”
When the battle line was almost set Kuada-Boc felt the bowl magic spread over him like a muffling blanket. Despite the huge noise coming from the mixed crowd, the sound seemed to be coming from far away. Actually it seemed like the sound was going far away, somehow whipped from screaming throats and propelled so quickly towards the sky that Kuada-Boc barely had a chance to hear it first.
The now familiar time-dilation on effect was also in force. The lines were largely still, each pairing as equally matched as possible. Except for Chaffi and Dead-eye. At the last moment, Chaffi broke from his position and scampered to the opposite flank. Dead-eye was taken by surprise and was a half dozen steps behind in mirroring his tiny counterpart’s position change. Centra must have seen some advantage in this, and he snapped the quango back without waiting for a signal.
In less time than it took for the quango to reach Kuada-Boc’s chest, the vanguard lines met with a muffled crunch. The most impressive collision was between Ta’kul and the troll, but even the lesser clashes between saurus and orc were notable for their intensity. Centra had immediately been set upon by a wiry hobgoblin, and the other skinks were almost being overwhelmed by others of goblin kind. The line was holding, but it wasn’t going anywhere, and therefore neither was the quango.
Something eventually had to give, and it did when Dead-eye got sick of dodging from one side of the central melee to the other. The orc charged directly at the line between Centra and Brocnos. The saurus pivoted and got a claw on him. This slowed Dead-eye enough that Chaffi could skitter safely away, but it also created a hint of an opening behind Brocnos tail.
Fungus squirmed through the gap and was onto Kuada-Boc in an agonizingly slow instant of bowl time. The patrol leader’s legs were cut out from under him and he found himself in the middle of a painful mushroom-pitch sandwich. He curled himself into a ball around the quango simultaneously with making the discovery that slow motion pain hurt every bit as much as usual. It just lasted longer.
Normal flow of time resumed with a huge roar and a piercing PHEEEEEEEEEEP.
Resva helped Kuada-Boc to his feet. “That wasn’t so bad, although we lost a few yards.”
“Wasn’t so bad?” Kuada-Boc scowled at his counterpart who was slinking back behind the greenskin line. “How many elbows do goblins have? Fungus must have at least three, and he drove them all into my abdomen after I was on the ground.”
The huddle reformed and each player, barring Resva and Chaffi, compared bruises and minor wounds.
Brocnos had a dark look. “What the hell was that, Chaffi?”
“I’m working on my ah… tactical retreat.”
“It looked more like fully fledged strategic withdrawal. You will hold position beside me or it won’t just be orcs chasing you.”
Kuada-Boc laid out the next plan. “We’ve lost some ground, and none of our set plans will work from this far back. We just need to push harder this time so we can force a gap.”
The patrol lined up again with the anxious Chaffi to the right of Brocnos in the ‘shield’ wall. Time slowed, sound muted, Centra snapped the quango back, and Chaffi bolted.
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