paper.
Strength of a giant was mine now, there to call at will, but I could feel myself wavering as the law of thermal dynamics came into play. Energy was expended at a phenomenal rate since this was power from within, not taken from the Empty, and I felt the scant body fat I had to spare burn away in an instant—I'd be rich if you could bottle this stuff.
Calling forth stolen energy to preserve my own body, I forced magic through my hands and with a heave shunted myself to the side as the ancient steel melted. It dripped through my protected hands and down to the stone floor in a puddle of silvery delight where it began to harden immediately in a blob of uselessness.
Dimp stumbled back with the release and fell to the floor, staring in utter horror and dismay at the solidifying pool. He did a double-take of the shaft he held in his hands, not believing what had happened. "You ruin Deathseeker," he screamed, pitch higher than a sixties model's hemline.
"You tried to stick it into my head," I said, matter-of-fact. That's fair, right?
"My axe," he wailed. There were tears, I was sure.
I kind of felt bad. "Look, um, I'm sorry, I know how attached you get to your axes. Er, and your hammers and chisels, but what else could I do?"
"Could let me cleave in skull," he mumbled, but I knew he didn't mean it, not really. I bet he was a very nice guy, or gal, under different circumstances.
"Sorry," I said again. I let magic recede, and then it was just me. Damn, I felt good. Better than good, I felt awesome. Like I'd had a bath in faery dust and been allowed a lick of an earlobe as a treat.
"Argh," he mumbled, heart not in it, sounding more like a sick pirate than a magic-rich, warrior dwarf. Honestly, they shouldn't get so attached.
"Is that it? Not gonna try anything funny, are you?" I kept an eye on him, knowing they were sneaky.
"No, it was test. I not have killed man. Deathseeker instructed stop at human head."
"Oh, right. Um, oops." Just then a gentle breeze blew across my face and a sprinkling of bleached hair with brown roots blew in front of my eyes, strands landing on my nose. "You cut my hair!" I shouted, having to force myself not to snap every bone in his warped body. "I got it just how I like it."
"Apologies, Spark, hair mean much to Dimp, too. Mine grow good, for five hundred years now."
"Yeah, and I bet that's the last time you brushed it," I grumbled.
"Enough of this nonsense," came the regal voice of her rudeness the princess. "Black Spark, you have passed the test. You are deemed worthy and now have the honor of helping solve a terrible crime and bringing the guilty to justice."
"Oh, goodie."
I wondered if they had any mirrors, although judging by the state of them all it was very doubtful. All I could think of as I followed the princess back to the throne—giving Mithnite the daggers as often as I could—was what if I looked like a friar with a bald patch in the middle of my head.
It's all about the sacrifice in this game.
The Real Job
Back in what the princess clearly felt was my rightful position—at the bottom of the steps with her suitably elevated—she returned to her seat as if nothing had happened. It was impossible to know what to expect as nobody ever came to such places, so didn't know how they ran things.
Dwarfville, or whatever they call it, isn't quite a truly magical realm since they come and go as they please between their home and ours, but it isn't quite planet Earth either. At least, that's as far as we understand it.
They can stay with us, they just don't like to, as they feel uncomfortable under open skies and without rocks to bash and gold to count, but of all the Hidden that reside in other realities they are the ones that are as close to our world as possible. They are far beneath our feet, chiseling away, building, hoarding, fighting—they do love a fight—just one supernatural step removed from our reality.
It's confusing, which is why I make a point
Strength of a giant was mine now, there to call at will, but I could feel myself wavering as the law of thermal dynamics came into play. Energy was expended at a phenomenal rate since this was power from within, not taken from the Empty, and I felt the scant body fat I had to spare burn away in an instant—I'd be rich if you could bottle this stuff.
Calling forth stolen energy to preserve my own body, I forced magic through my hands and with a heave shunted myself to the side as the ancient steel melted. It dripped through my protected hands and down to the stone floor in a puddle of silvery delight where it began to harden immediately in a blob of uselessness.
Dimp stumbled back with the release and fell to the floor, staring in utter horror and dismay at the solidifying pool. He did a double-take of the shaft he held in his hands, not believing what had happened. "You ruin Deathseeker," he screamed, pitch higher than a sixties model's hemline.
"You tried to stick it into my head," I said, matter-of-fact. That's fair, right?
"My axe," he wailed. There were tears, I was sure.
I kind of felt bad. "Look, um, I'm sorry, I know how attached you get to your axes. Er, and your hammers and chisels, but what else could I do?"
"Could let me cleave in skull," he mumbled, but I knew he didn't mean it, not really. I bet he was a very nice guy, or gal, under different circumstances.
"Sorry," I said again. I let magic recede, and then it was just me. Damn, I felt good. Better than good, I felt awesome. Like I'd had a bath in faery dust and been allowed a lick of an earlobe as a treat.
"Argh," he mumbled, heart not in it, sounding more like a sick pirate than a magic-rich, warrior dwarf. Honestly, they shouldn't get so attached.
"Is that it? Not gonna try anything funny, are you?" I kept an eye on him, knowing they were sneaky.
"No, it was test. I not have killed man. Deathseeker instructed stop at human head."
"Oh, right. Um, oops." Just then a gentle breeze blew across my face and a sprinkling of bleached hair with brown roots blew in front of my eyes, strands landing on my nose. "You cut my hair!" I shouted, having to force myself not to snap every bone in his warped body. "I got it just how I like it."
"Apologies, Spark, hair mean much to Dimp, too. Mine grow good, for five hundred years now."
"Yeah, and I bet that's the last time you brushed it," I grumbled.
"Enough of this nonsense," came the regal voice of her rudeness the princess. "Black Spark, you have passed the test. You are deemed worthy and now have the honor of helping solve a terrible crime and bringing the guilty to justice."
"Oh, goodie."
I wondered if they had any mirrors, although judging by the state of them all it was very doubtful. All I could think of as I followed the princess back to the throne—giving Mithnite the daggers as often as I could—was what if I looked like a friar with a bald patch in the middle of my head.
It's all about the sacrifice in this game.
The Real Job
Back in what the princess clearly felt was my rightful position—at the bottom of the steps with her suitably elevated—she returned to her seat as if nothing had happened. It was impossible to know what to expect as nobody ever came to such places, so didn't know how they ran things.
Dwarfville, or whatever they call it, isn't quite a truly magical realm since they come and go as they please between their home and ours, but it isn't quite planet Earth either. At least, that's as far as we understand it.
They can stay with us, they just don't like to, as they feel uncomfortable under open skies and without rocks to bash and gold to count, but of all the Hidden that reside in other realities they are the ones that are as close to our world as possible. They are far beneath our feet, chiseling away, building, hoarding, fighting—they do love a fight—just one supernatural step removed from our reality.
It's confusing, which is why I make a point
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