Dwarven throwers (subject-related spam, only)

[cheesemage]

bump, ah brings back memorys

[Armadin of Clan Geddin]

Ye lads are weird, bumpin' topics that already be on top....

[EMINEM]

I was reading "Seige of Darkness" by R.A. Salvatore (Drizzt's creator) which contains a vivid description of a dwarf actually being thrown. I was wondering if he was somehow inspired by this thread, but after checking the publishing date, it appears he just anticipated it.

Anyway, the setting: dark Elves from Menzoberraznen have invaded Mithril Hall, and it's up to a contingent of suicidal battleragers to stop them! The leader of this band, Thibbledworf Pwent, finds himself and his troop in a chamber that just witnessed a bloody conflict.


... Mounted against the left hand wall just before the side tunnel was a curious contraption, a deadly dwarven side-slinger catapult with a short, strong arm that whipped around to the side, not over the top, as with conventional catapults. The arm was pulled back now, ready to fire, but Pwent noticed immediately that all the ammunition was gone, that the valiant dwarves had held out to the last. Pwent could smell the remnants of that catapult's missiles and could see flickering shadows from the small fires. He knew before he peeked around the bend that many dead enemies would line the corridor beyond...

... Pwent watched as a large form entered the other end of the passage, a shadowy form, but the battle-rager knew that it was a dark elf, though certainly the biggest he had ever seen. The drow carried a large trident, and on the end of the trident, still wriggling in the last moments of his life, was Pwent's skewered companion. Another drow came out behind the huge weapon-master, but Pwent hardly noticed the second form, and hardly cared if a hundred more were to follow.
The battle-rager roared in protest, but did not charge. In a rare moment where cleverness outweighed rage, Pwent hopped back around the corner.
"What is it, Most Wild Battle-Rager?" Three of his dwarves yelled together.
Pwent did not answer. He jumped into the basket of the side-slinger and slashed his spiked gauntlet across the trigger rope, cutting into it cleanly.
Uthegental (the huge drow) had just shaken free the troublesome kill when the side-slinger went off, shooting the missile Pwent down the corridor. The weapon master's eyes went wide. He screamed as Pwent screamed. Suddenly, Uthegental wished he still has the dead dwarf handy, that he might use the body as a shield. Purely on instinct, the warrior did the next best thing: he grabbed his drow companion by the collar of his piwafwi and yanked him in front.
Pwent's helmet spike, and half his head, blasted the unfortunate dark elf, came through cleanly enough to score a hit on Uthgental as well.
The mighty weapon master extracted himself from the tumble as Pwent tore free of the destroyed drow. They came together in a fit of fury, rage against rage, snarl against snarl, Pwent scoring several hits, but Uthegental so strong and skilled, countering fiercely...

RA Salvatore, "Siege of Darkness," p 284-285.


Someone should contact the guy and let him know about this thread.

The passage above poses an interesting dilemma for all organizations and committees devoted to limiting the practice of little people used in such a matter - what if the said projectile is both "trigger and bullet?" Does he forfeit all the rights to seek a redress of grievance given that he himself was responsibile for the violation? I believe a re-writing of certain laws is in order.

[fable]

@Eminem, as much as I respect you, please keep fiction out of a serious thread like this. We have facts to discuss--not garbage from works of inferior fantasy writers. Thanks.

[Armadin of Clan Geddin]

Quote:

Originally posted by fable: <STRONG>@Eminem, as much as I respect you, please keep fiction out of a serious thread like this. We have facts to discuss--not garbage from works of inferior fantasy writers. Thanks.</STRONG>

What ye be meanin' by that, lad?
Salvatore be an inferior fantasy writer?! Sure, he not be as great as Tolkien, but darn be I if he's not a good one anyway. I really enjoyed the fellow's work, an' if ye feel that way 'bout him, then so it be, but don't ye say it as if anyone should think like ye, coz I fer one don't. Salvatore be a LOT better than most fantasy writers I've read, he an' those Cunnin'ham an' Greenwood folks.

[EMINEM]

Hear! Hear! Armadin. Let me raise you a mug!

Suren' your heart be in your mouth, and dis here fable's foot be in his. This Salvatore laddy is as a fine wordsmith as I might desire meself to be, and suren' his work will go on to be read, admired, and motion picture'd, as much as old man Tolkien's is someday.

...

[fable]

Quote:

Eminem lurched in the direction of Ireland, and wrote: Suren' your heart be in your mouth, and dis here fable's foot be in his. This Salvatore laddy is as a fine wordsmith as I might desire meself to be, and suren' his work will go on to be read, admired, and motion picture'd, as much as old man Tolkien's is someday.

I will temporarily divest myself of my robes as Lord High Guardian and Bottlewasher of the Thread of Dwarven Throwers, and point out that the disdain expressed of Salvatore above was meant only as a general "sniff" at fantasy, as if we're discussing serious stuff, here.

Incidentally, Eminem, I hope you didn't take offense at my remarks, which were not meant personally.

Now, on the other hand, I *do* think Salvatore is a bad writer--but that's fit for a subject in SYM, if you want to start one.

Robes resumed. Dwarf thrown...


...a hit!!

[ 06-14-2001: Message edited by: fable ]

[Orland]

Throwing the little, eh?

Halfling, while good if you have nothing else around, tend to do nothing more than go splat with a little bit of some offensive odor. The pattern of the halfling impact can be re-enacted with a tomato ejected from a sling-shot.

Gnomes, fare better, as I consider them a smart bomb. Considering most gnomes have a perchant for inventions and tinkering, they tend to make a premium weapon againt infantry of any type as they have they option of dispersing shrapnel.

But, for all out war, you must use the dwarf, no launcher needed nor igniter, just tell him the enemy has stolen all his ale and he'll launch himself at any foe with a velocity and impact that could take out the biggest of Dragons and make gods cringe. The best part is he's usually reusable...after the drinking binge.

Orland

[Xyx]

The Halfling is pretty effective if starved for an appropriately long time.

[Dúnadan]

A very reverent *Bump*

[The Outsider]

Dear sirs:

I feel that I must complain. We have been having a lively and informative discussion on the merits of dwarf-hurling, along with related topics. However, we appear to be under bombardment. I invite you to examine the large number of "bumps" here. Such events lead me to conclude that this is no harmless academic peace conference, but rather an attempt to eradicate free-thinking about free-flying individuals of smaller stature.

I must protest at the treatment we have been subjected to. Hopefully the "bumping" will stop long enough for us to resume our conversation.

[Dúnadan]

Well, if by "lively" you mean a conversation that has been dead for a month, then I heartily agree, but seeing as how that is not the case, I'll stand fast in my bumpish ways.

And another thing, *Bump*

[fable]

What do you mean, @Xyx, that the halfing is effective if starved before being hurled? You do realize that the halfling can be lured aside, even in mid-air, if food or drink of sufficient quantity is waved in its direction? Halflings are virtually useless in any kind of long-range conflict, unless the enemy is totally unprepared. And how often does that happen, after all?

Look at the record. Ever since the disastrous Battle of Roi et Bob 657 years ago, *there hasn't been a single instance where a commander has employed halfling missiles against a stationary enemy.* That some of the finest military minds should ignore halflings in this fashion is reason enough in itself to conclude as I have done.

Yes, I know you are going to bring up Mashep. Everyone always does. Mashep the Blonde, as he was called despite being bald most of his life, had the funds gathered by his usurious, scheming father, the Dictator of Hackensack. That he squandered them in less than a decade's futile attempts to attack and defeat all of his much smaller and more pacific neighbors is testament in itself to his arrant folly. His use of halflings in the Battle of Blocxcxcx ended in unmitigated disaster. Don't you recall that the halflings were blown off-course, and straight into the area occupied by Mashep's own female campfollowers? And how that caused uproar among his Dark Elf mercenaries, who had pretty much claimed the women for their own? And how the only Blocxcxcxians who died that day were those who tumbled to their deaths, helpless in laughter, from their protective parapets, as they watched Mashep's Dark Elves try to pry the halflings off hundreds of panicking, running campfollowers?

Halflings effective. Hmph, sir. Halflings are a ranged danger comparable only to flying elephants with a case of the runs, if for totally distinct reasons.

[ 07-14-2001: Message edited by: fable ]

[ 07-14-2001: Message edited by: fable ]

[Dúnadan]

Ah, but halflings are not completely without use during a time of war. A siege, for example. Let us say that the invading army has surrounded a massive walled city, yet can do nothing to penetrate the final barriers standing in the way of toal conquest. It would take months to starve the city, and they have no reason to surrender any time soon. The solution? A platoon of hunger-crazed halflings, launched from catapaults high over the walls to sow chaos amongst the citizenry. The city's food supply will run dangerously low by the end of the fifth hour, and the horror of the starved halflings will reduce their will to fight to a mulchy residue (which will also be eaten in short order.) Now, a truley devious Commander might infect the halflings with various diseases, increasing their effectivenesss exponentioally.

[Craig]

Or highly fed halflings who would be as heavy as dwatves