Skull Crusher and Leadbelcher

“Oi, boss, look at this!” came a shout.

Boggrub turned to see his lieutenant, Gutbug, standing on a large wheeled structure which had been dragged almost to the entrance, Boggrub cast his eye over the machine, taking in every detail of its workings. He nodded appreciatively.

“Wot iz it?” he demanded.

“Dunno,” replied Gutbug, “They woz just bringin’ it out when we killed ‘em”.

The two goblins stood for a few moments, looking at the great machine. “It’s a see-saw,” ventured Gutbug.

“Them ropes,” said Boggrub to Gutbug’s suddenly recumbent form, “Pull ‘em,”

Gutbug obeyed, rubbing the back of his head where Boggrub’s mailed fist had made contact. Slowly, the huge weight at one end of the machine’s wooden arm lifted into the air. Suddenly, there was a click, “Select target,” intoned a metallic voice.

Boggrub jumped. “‘Oo sed that?” he demanded. Gutbug backed away, shaking his head. “I did, you repellent little pustule,” said the voice. Boggrub’s eyes widened as they focussed on a grotesque face set into the machine’s metal fittings.

“Er .... Wot?” said Boggrub. There was a metallic sigh. “WHAT .... DO .... YOU .... WANT .... ME ... TO .... HIT?” asked the machine, very slowly.

“Oh,” replied Boggrub, “Er .... that tree over there.” A second face came to life. “Range - two-twenty, elevation - fifteen,” it said crisply, “Target fixed, ready to fire.”

“Er .... fire!” commanded Boggrub, in what he hoped was a commanding voice. There was a slight pause. “Rock?” asked the metal face, a little tired. “Wot?” replied Boggrub. “What am I supposed to fire, you malodorous moron?” asked the face.

A rock was hurriedly placed on the open metal hand at the far end of the machine’s arm. “Can I fire now?” asked the face wearily.

“Go on, then.”

The wooden arm snapped upright, and the rock was hurled into the air. As it flew, it began to glow, and then burst into flames an instant before hitting its target. The tree was riven to charred matchwood. “Cor,” gasped Gutbug, “Good job they never got it out, we’d have been .... The rest of the sentence was lost as his face hit the ground.

“It’s a rock thrower,” said Boggrub quietly. “Trebuchet,” corrected the machine. “Wot?” “Trebuchet!” “Wozzat mean?” demanded Boggrub. There was a slight pause. “Rock thrower,” conceded the machine, wearily. “A rock throwin’ skull crusher,” said Boggrub, “That’s what we’ll call it - Skull Crusher.”

“Nasty, that.” commented Boggrub.

Gutbug nodded sagely.

“‘Ow’s it work, then?” Boggrub continued.

“Dunno,” said Gotbug, “Ask a dwarf?” “Oh, yeah,” Gutbug continued, climbing to his feet, “All dead. Forgot.” He rubbed the back of his head ruefully.

Suddenly, a shout came from the entrance to the Dwarfhold. “Oi, boss, got a live one!” Boggrub looked up eagerly.

“Bring it ‘ere!” he commanded. “An’ don’t eat it on the way!”

Soon a young Dwarf was thrown down at his feet. “Right, stunty,” growled Boggrub, noting with satisfaction that this juvenile was shorter than he was, “Wot zis an’ how’s it work?”

“Just you wait ‘till my Daddy gets home,” whimpered the young Dwarf, “An’ my uncle, an’ my three cousins, an...” The recitation of his family tree was cut short by a wellplaced boot.

“‘Ow’s it work?” repeated Boggrub. “It’s a cannon, isn’t it?” gasped the young Dwarf, clutching his groin.

“I know that, stunty,” retorted Boggrub, making a metal note of the name, “but ‘ows it work?”

With a little persuasion, the Goblins learned from their captive how the weapin was used. The four guns were loaded with powder and shot, and trained upon the entrance to the Dwarfhold, where a number of Dwarven corpses were propped up as targets. “Fire!” yelled Boggrub.

When the smoke cleared, the scene of devastation amazed even the Broken Nose Goblins. The shot from the three lower guns had almost totally destroyed the corpses, while the heavy ball from the upper howitzer had reduced the entrance to smoking rubble.

“Cor,” breathed Boggrub, “It’s even better than Skull Crusher!” He had a sudden thought. “‘Ere,” he exclaimed, “Carve the Troll’s face off and nail it across the front - we’ll call it Lead Belcher, after ‘im.”

The assembled Goblins murmured their assent at this touching gesture.

“Shall I scrap Skull Crusher then, boss?” asked Gutbug.