Day 11, Week 1 - Into the Halls

[Corporal Light]

A couple of hours later

“He knows the land inside and out, he said,” Ballad muttered, “he'll do plenty of great things for you, he said!”

“Quit whisperin'! Tryin' to concentrate!” shouted Danish as he turned back to face the gunsmith. He glared at him for a few moments before looking back to the front, kicking his heels against his oxen mount.

The virescent gunsmith softly growled, tightening his grip on the reins of his mount. They were traveling on a small, snow-covered road that ascended up hills and through fields. The brown furred ox let out a loud moo as its hooves clanked against the surface, kicking up snow wherever it walked. Ballad's mount, a black haired ox, responded back with a strained yelp of sorts that ground the gunner's gears more than a little bit.

The gunsmith kicked his heels against his oxen's stomach, shutting it up for the tenth time. He heard a small snicker erupt from a few feet in front of him.

“Danish... are you tittering in my general direction?” He asked, his tone low.

“Hmm?” The dwarf responded, turning his head away from the map in his hands. His ox steer kept a fair distance away from the green recruit, if only because of Danish consistently snapping the reins or lightly kicking it in the stomach.

“I repeat, I-”

“I know what ya said, stupid,” he replied, turning back towards his map,“for goodness sake, ya'd think a troll would have a bigger brain than a tauntaun's.”

Smoke billowed out of the sleeves of his coat as the dwarf finished his sentence. Another damn troll comment! Was there no end to his stupidity?! These thoughts raged throughout his mind as he nearly yanked the reins back, his ox letting out a choked groan.

LET ME FUCKING KILL THIS GUY ALREADY

Just wait, dear Ballad! We can't just-

I DON'T CARE I'M KILLING HIM

BALLAD

The sharpshooter was just about to snap the reins onto the oxen's head as he readied himself for a charge when he noticed the dwarf recoil. A second later, he and his mount had dashed off down the road, leaving Ballad covered in snow.

“Are you fu- COME BACK HERE!” He commanded, slapping the reins against the side of the ox. Before he knew it, the oxen let out a distressed groan, charging after the brown one.

In another world, the chase probably would've been a humorous display of two cows juggling their fat around as both of their commanders yelled at them to go faster in a desperate attempt to outrun the other.

It only too a few moments for the soldier to learn otherwise.

The coal-black oxen galloped forward at a pace seemingly impossible for something of its stature, the air filled with the cacophony of rapidly clapping hooves. The gunner let out a yell as held on to the reins, trying his hardest not to fall off. True to his word, Ballad found that SPB was making no input in his mind. He didn't really bother thinking about what he could have been doing.

He glanced forward, seeing Danish's ox slide forward, only to twist to its right and continue. He was going completely off the trail.

“Where the fuck are you going, you idiot?!” He hollered, barely repeating his maneuver as he followed him into a large forest.

The two steers bobbed and weaved between the trees, the inventor still hot on his escort's tail. The dwarf made no effort to look back nor even really react to the constant swearing and annoyed yells behind him. He was staring forward, a smile planted on his face as he drew closer towards a small cave inside the forest. By the time he reached it, he had slowed down to a walk, finally stopping right in front of the entrance to the cave. Sliding off of his mount, he ran into the cave.

The gunner, on the other hand, was going way too damn fast. Thinking quickly, he grabbed onto the ox's horns, stopping it and sending him sailing through the air. He let out a surprised shout before landing on the ground in front of the cave.

That was... superbly executed, o slayer...

Shut the fuck up...

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The cave wasn't very large, as it was mostly just a circular room; this was a fact Ballad had figured out by the time he had looked inside. Peering into it, he saw the dwarven sentry kneeling down in front of gigantic stone statue with a rosette design at the base it stood on. The statue depicted a large woman holding her hands the sky, exposing her bare chest. She had long hair that reached to her hips and her head was partially covered by a helmet of some kind. An unusual type of energy radiated from the sculpture. One that sent a chill down his spine as he drew closer to the dwarf.

He walked forward until he was just a few feet behind the dwarf, a look of confusion plastered on his face. The pygmy was mumbling something to himself as he held his enclosed hands to his forehead in a prayer motion. His eyes were closed and despite the gunner's rather loud entering of the cave, he did not acknowledge his presence.

“Finally.. gained on you.. what is the meaning of this?” The inventor said, crossing his arms against his chest. When no reply was uttered, he said, “Danish, I request the satisfaction of my query,” with an annoyed tone of voice.

No response.

He pulled out his revolver and shot the statue square in the nose. The bullet chipped of the base of the nose, both falling onto the cave floor. The gunshot echoed around the cavern that coupled with the sound of gravel smacking against the stone ground.

The dwarf jumped into the air, his face contorting from blissful to a murderous glare in half a second as he stared at the gunner, his revolver releasing black smoke from its barrel.

“WHAT IN THE WORLD DID YA JUST DO?!” He yelled, spit flying out of his mouth.

“I shot the goddamn statue.”

“YOU-” He said, pausing for a split second. He glanced up towards the head of the statue, seeing the nose gone from its original position. He took a deep breath, his voice going soft and monotone as he spoke, “ya shot... Inanna...”

“Who?”

“Inanna...”

The gunsmith frowned, sliding his revolver into his coat. After a few seconds, it hit him, “Oh! Inanna! Your goddess!”

“Yes... a shrine.. to her... that ya just desecrated.”

“You're implying I give a shit.”

Danish's eyes widened, his eyebrows raising upwards as he crossed his arms. “What is the matter with ya?” He questioned, slowly stepping towards the recruit.

“If you think I'm going to be intimidated by you, you're mistaken.”

“Intimidated or not, I don't get ya,” the dwarf replied, not stopping his slow and methodical walk towards the clearly uncaring Ballad, “first you come in my house and start actin' passive-aggressive while sayin' nice things, then I find out ya were causin' ruckus in the Inn and nearly got yerself killed, BALLAD. THEN I find out that the old man wants ME, of all people, to lead YOU throughout the Fields. Keep in mind that this was AFTER I found out who ya were, and what you've done.”

“Okay, SO?!” The virescent sharpshooter said, towering over the smaller dwarf.

“I think after all the crap you've done, I deserve at least one answer: Why in GOD'S NAME did you desecrate my goddess's grave?!” The dwarf answered, his voice growing progressively softer and more deadpan as he answered.

Ballad opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He looked away from the dwarf for a few moments, going over his thoughts.

He felt like he had done all of this before. Minus the desecration and the pissed off dwarf, he was gaining unpleasant memories of.... of...

No.. he thought, subtly shaking his head, I won't tell him. I ain't stupid. I fell for this once, I ain't falling for it again.

Not again..

“Well?” The dwarf asked, either ignoring or not noticing the gunner move his gloves across his eyes. By the time he looked back, he was speaking with a more polite and fanciful tone.

“My apologies, sir dwarf, I.... was trying to obtain your heed and I... well, I did not think it through entirely. I apologize.”

“I don' want just an apology.” The dwarf replied, seemingly with the answer, “I want a promise. Promise me that, for the remainder of this mission, ya don' do that crap again. Got it?” He said as he held his hand out.

Should we tell him?

I'm not doing it again, SPB. I.... I don't want to..

As you wish...

“You have a deal...” He replied, shaking his hand.

Quest: Into the Halls
Word Count: 1504
Amount left: WAY Surpassed.