08-01-2016, 11:05 PM
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
The ground shook with each step made by the massive, green-haired mammoth as it moved through the flatlands, occasionally blaring its long, french-horn like trunk. The gunsmith himself sat upon the back of the eleven foot tall beast, map in one hand and reigns in the other. His noble steed was proving to be far less unruly than the poor excuse for an ox had, something that he was definitely thankful for. After all, he at least didn’t have to worry about the animal carrying him buckling underneath his weight due to sickness or something else related to it.
Thirty minutes had passed since he had exited the forest that surrounded the Hill’s of Maiden’s Blessing, his healthier and stronger mount having made the journey much faster. However, it wasn’t just that. He had deliberately put the Snow Elephant into a hurried state; he wanted to get back to Nierhin before it got too dark. Not because he believed he would be in any danger wandering around in complete darkness. By the contrary, he figured he would be perfectly fine doing that. The only thing he had to worry about were the trolls, and he had dispatched two of them with relative ease thanks to SPB’s supernatural upgrades. He was still rather shocked that the shade could even make such a thing come to be. Such power was the stuff of legends and shouldn’t have been anything else!
It was amazing… and terrifying…
Eventually, after a few more minutes, the village of Nierhin came into view. From the top of the hill that led up to it, he saw that not much had really changed from when he had first arrived there, aside from one thing: The entirety of the spiked wall was lit up by torches, illuminating it in the evening darkness. The sky glowed purplish as the inventor and his mount approached the gate, the dwarven guards above slowly opening the portcullis as they saw him. He passed underneath the gate, as silent as a mouse as he entered the village.
To those that had gone into Nierhin before, they would know that, day and night, it was always filled with crowds. Even though it wasn’t one of the most populated of the villages, it could certainly lay claim to being one of the most active due to its trading system and its mining community. By all rights, as the gunsmith made his presence known in the settlement, the flocks of men, women and children should have turned their eyes directly towards the mammoth and his rider.
Instead, he was met with two long columns of dwarven soldiers, with the leader of Nierhin himself, Dane, standing in the middle with a huge smile on his face. As soon as he stepped through the gate, every single one of the soldiers clicked their heels, metallic clanging ringing out around the village as all of them rammed the end of their spears into the snow-covered earth. It looked exactly like a recruitment ceremony you would typically see in any military, yet it was somehow more than that. It looked more like a celebration. All that was missing was the confetti.
In all honesty, it just made the inventor all the more uneasy. All of this effort over a burnt hide and a dead dwarf.
Ballad remained silent, slipping his map back into his overcoat as he slid down the side of his mount. He slowly walked towards Dane, his burnt wampa hide over his back. He noticed that the smile the dwarf had had before was slowly fading as he approached.
“Let me guess…” he said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “this is meant for me?”
“Where’s Danish?” the dwarf leader says, his voice monotone. He glanced from the green-skinned man back to his mammoth at a rapid rate.
The sharpshooter closed his eyes, shaking his head. Here it comes…
Pausing for a second, he spoke.
“Dane… Danish is…” he said, biting his lip, “is dead.”
Dane blinked, his mouth slowly opening. The soldiers around them looked at each other as their leader stared at the greenskin.
“D-...dead?” he said, cocking his eyebrows. His eyes looked glassy, like that of a puppy.
“Yes. I found him in the middle of a forest, his head removed from his body.”
The dwarf looked around, speechless. He moved his hand up to his head, rubbing his silver helmet as the inventor continued.
“If it makes you feel any better, Dane… I killed the trolls that had done him in…” he said, sliding his hand into his overcoat, taking the troll tooth from his belt.
Dane looked at the tusk for a few moments, his hand shaking. He then grabbed it, turning around as he brought it to his head, staring at it for a long time. He hang his head low, his breathing becoming increasingly more labored as time went on.
“Dane, I’m…” Ballad said, stopping as he saw the dwarf tense up before continuing, “I’m sorry for your loss, and I realize how insensitive this may sound, but… I have done what you have required. If you can allow-”
“Show me...” the soldier said, “NOW!”
Everyone within shouting distance visibly flinched as Dane shouted out that last word, murmurs occurring almost immediately. The green gunner stared in shock at the dwarf before holding out the burnt hide and the cobalt crystal. The dwarf barely took a moment to look at both before responding.
“Not good enough.”
The gunner sighed, nodding, “I figured as much. I suppose I shoul-”
“I mean YER not good enough. Not fer this military. Get out.”
Silence. Something that made no sound, yet can deafen any man. That was the phenomenon that was occurring at that very moment, and continued for several more afterwards. The green-skinned gunsmith peered into Dane’s blue eyes, almost staring into his very soul as they locked eyes. They were still glassy, the hint of wetness glistening off of them.
“Not… good enough?” he said, his frown quickly becoming a massive glare.
“Ya heard me the first time, greenskin. You’ve clearly proven ya can’ handle military duty. Therefer, as the head honcho o' this village, I ORDER ya to leave.”
“I CAN’T HANDLE MILITARY DUTY?!” the gunsmith shouted, dropping his materials onto the ground, “in case you didn’t notice, not only did I destroy the wampa AND salvage its hide, I got your damn crystal AND killed some trolls for good measure! ALL WITHIN A FEW FUCKING HOURS! If anything, I’ve proven more than ANYONE ELSE HERE that I can handle being a soldier!”
“Bein' a soldier ain’ all about killin' trolls, stupid!” the dwarf responded, his voice barely below a shout, “it’s about cooperation! Keepin' yer fellow men alive!”
“Oh! That’s what this is about?!” he said, eyes widened, “I’m being refused service because your pathetic excuse of a soldier didn’t come back?”
“What?” the dwarf growled, gritting his teeth as he burrowed his eyebrows. His former monotone voice had been replaced by one of barely concealed rage as he glared at the gunsmith.
“You won’t let ME be in the army because YOUR sentry can’t fight to save his fucking life?!”
“He can fight! I’ve seen him!” he said, his words exploding out his mouth. Lights turned on in nearby houses as the argument escalated, citizens peeking outside to figure out what the commotion was.
“Really?! I’ve also seen him! All he did was pray, laze about, and get himself killed! He ran off without me without even so much as a weapon to defend himself!”
Dane’s fists clenched as the gunsmith ranted, his teeth gyrating as his malicious words reached his ears.
“He sidetracked me when he was supposed to be guiding me, constantly spat insults in my face, and left me with the wampa I had killed after I called him out on his bullshit! For a soldier that can fight, he left the poorest impression possible!”
“Listen, ya-”
“And another thing? He’s not only a terrible soldier, he’s a terrible SENTRY.”
“He is-”
“His guard post is a garbage dump! I literally walked right in and almost vomited seeing the mess he is! You can’t say he’s a good soldier when I know the facts! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
“What’s wrong with me?!” Dane shouted, “WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?! I ain' a KILLER! I don’t REVEL in DEATH like YOU DO, Ballad! And I certainly don’ SLANDER THE DECEASED!”
“It isn’t SLANDER if it’s TRUE, you stunted dumbass!” he responded.
“Ya strike Danish’s honor when he can’ respond, and now ya continue to insult us in our grief!?” the dwarf said, pushing Ballad back with all the force he could muster. At this point, dwarves of all ages and genders were exiting their homes, stunned looks on their faces as they witnessed Dane’s outburst.
“Someone has to teach ya a lesson! To put ya down like the dog ya ar'!”
“I assume you’re Danish’s mentor?! If so, I won’t even need to TRY to beat you! After all, the pupil is always WORSE THAN THE MASTER!”
“THAT IS IT!” he shouted, stepping back and walking towards his left, shouting for the blacksmith. One of the dwarves in the rapidly increasing audience tosses an axe towards him, which he catches in one hand. He then turns around, jabbing a finger towards Ballad.
“I will NOT STAND fer yer SLANDER! Fer yer INSULTS! Once I bury this axe in yer skull, I’ll cut yer head off and add it to my collection!”
“You fucking crazy old man…” Ballad said, reaching behind him to grasp his pickaxe, “so that’s how this will go, huh? You kill me, I never come back?!”
“Exactly, greenskin! I win, ya never set foot in these Fields again!”
“Well, then, if I WIN, you acknowledge the facts and PUT ME IN YOUR CORPS!”
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
The ground shook with each step made by the massive, green-haired mammoth as it moved through the flatlands, occasionally blaring its long, french-horn like trunk. The gunsmith himself sat upon the back of the eleven foot tall beast, map in one hand and reigns in the other. His noble steed was proving to be far less unruly than the poor excuse for an ox had, something that he was definitely thankful for. After all, he at least didn’t have to worry about the animal carrying him buckling underneath his weight due to sickness or something else related to it.
Thirty minutes had passed since he had exited the forest that surrounded the Hill’s of Maiden’s Blessing, his healthier and stronger mount having made the journey much faster. However, it wasn’t just that. He had deliberately put the Snow Elephant into a hurried state; he wanted to get back to Nierhin before it got too dark. Not because he believed he would be in any danger wandering around in complete darkness. By the contrary, he figured he would be perfectly fine doing that. The only thing he had to worry about were the trolls, and he had dispatched two of them with relative ease thanks to SPB’s supernatural upgrades. He was still rather shocked that the shade could even make such a thing come to be. Such power was the stuff of legends and shouldn’t have been anything else!
It was amazing… and terrifying…
Eventually, after a few more minutes, the village of Nierhin came into view. From the top of the hill that led up to it, he saw that not much had really changed from when he had first arrived there, aside from one thing: The entirety of the spiked wall was lit up by torches, illuminating it in the evening darkness. The sky glowed purplish as the inventor and his mount approached the gate, the dwarven guards above slowly opening the portcullis as they saw him. He passed underneath the gate, as silent as a mouse as he entered the village.
To those that had gone into Nierhin before, they would know that, day and night, it was always filled with crowds. Even though it wasn’t one of the most populated of the villages, it could certainly lay claim to being one of the most active due to its trading system and its mining community. By all rights, as the gunsmith made his presence known in the settlement, the flocks of men, women and children should have turned their eyes directly towards the mammoth and his rider.
Instead, he was met with two long columns of dwarven soldiers, with the leader of Nierhin himself, Dane, standing in the middle with a huge smile on his face. As soon as he stepped through the gate, every single one of the soldiers clicked their heels, metallic clanging ringing out around the village as all of them rammed the end of their spears into the snow-covered earth. It looked exactly like a recruitment ceremony you would typically see in any military, yet it was somehow more than that. It looked more like a celebration. All that was missing was the confetti.
In all honesty, it just made the inventor all the more uneasy. All of this effort over a burnt hide and a dead dwarf.
Ballad remained silent, slipping his map back into his overcoat as he slid down the side of his mount. He slowly walked towards Dane, his burnt wampa hide over his back. He noticed that the smile the dwarf had had before was slowly fading as he approached.
“Let me guess…” he said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “this is meant for me?”
“Where’s Danish?” the dwarf leader says, his voice monotone. He glanced from the green-skinned man back to his mammoth at a rapid rate.
The sharpshooter closed his eyes, shaking his head. Here it comes…
Pausing for a second, he spoke.
“Dane… Danish is…” he said, biting his lip, “is dead.”
Dane blinked, his mouth slowly opening. The soldiers around them looked at each other as their leader stared at the greenskin.
“D-...dead?” he said, cocking his eyebrows. His eyes looked glassy, like that of a puppy.
“Yes. I found him in the middle of a forest, his head removed from his body.”
The dwarf looked around, speechless. He moved his hand up to his head, rubbing his silver helmet as the inventor continued.
“If it makes you feel any better, Dane… I killed the trolls that had done him in…” he said, sliding his hand into his overcoat, taking the troll tooth from his belt.
Dane looked at the tusk for a few moments, his hand shaking. He then grabbed it, turning around as he brought it to his head, staring at it for a long time. He hang his head low, his breathing becoming increasingly more labored as time went on.
“Dane, I’m…” Ballad said, stopping as he saw the dwarf tense up before continuing, “I’m sorry for your loss, and I realize how insensitive this may sound, but… I have done what you have required. If you can allow-”
“Show me...” the soldier said, “NOW!”
Everyone within shouting distance visibly flinched as Dane shouted out that last word, murmurs occurring almost immediately. The green gunner stared in shock at the dwarf before holding out the burnt hide and the cobalt crystal. The dwarf barely took a moment to look at both before responding.
“Not good enough.”
The gunner sighed, nodding, “I figured as much. I suppose I shoul-”
“I mean YER not good enough. Not fer this military. Get out.”
Silence. Something that made no sound, yet can deafen any man. That was the phenomenon that was occurring at that very moment, and continued for several more afterwards. The green-skinned gunsmith peered into Dane’s blue eyes, almost staring into his very soul as they locked eyes. They were still glassy, the hint of wetness glistening off of them.
“Not… good enough?” he said, his frown quickly becoming a massive glare.
“Ya heard me the first time, greenskin. You’ve clearly proven ya can’ handle military duty. Therefer, as the head honcho o' this village, I ORDER ya to leave.”
“I CAN’T HANDLE MILITARY DUTY?!” the gunsmith shouted, dropping his materials onto the ground, “in case you didn’t notice, not only did I destroy the wampa AND salvage its hide, I got your damn crystal AND killed some trolls for good measure! ALL WITHIN A FEW FUCKING HOURS! If anything, I’ve proven more than ANYONE ELSE HERE that I can handle being a soldier!”
“Bein' a soldier ain’ all about killin' trolls, stupid!” the dwarf responded, his voice barely below a shout, “it’s about cooperation! Keepin' yer fellow men alive!”
“Oh! That’s what this is about?!” he said, eyes widened, “I’m being refused service because your pathetic excuse of a soldier didn’t come back?”
“What?” the dwarf growled, gritting his teeth as he burrowed his eyebrows. His former monotone voice had been replaced by one of barely concealed rage as he glared at the gunsmith.
“You won’t let ME be in the army because YOUR sentry can’t fight to save his fucking life?!”
“He can fight! I’ve seen him!” he said, his words exploding out his mouth. Lights turned on in nearby houses as the argument escalated, citizens peeking outside to figure out what the commotion was.
“Really?! I’ve also seen him! All he did was pray, laze about, and get himself killed! He ran off without me without even so much as a weapon to defend himself!”
Dane’s fists clenched as the gunsmith ranted, his teeth gyrating as his malicious words reached his ears.
“He sidetracked me when he was supposed to be guiding me, constantly spat insults in my face, and left me with the wampa I had killed after I called him out on his bullshit! For a soldier that can fight, he left the poorest impression possible!”
“Listen, ya-”
“And another thing? He’s not only a terrible soldier, he’s a terrible SENTRY.”
“He is-”
“His guard post is a garbage dump! I literally walked right in and almost vomited seeing the mess he is! You can’t say he’s a good soldier when I know the facts! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
“What’s wrong with me?!” Dane shouted, “WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?! I ain' a KILLER! I don’t REVEL in DEATH like YOU DO, Ballad! And I certainly don’ SLANDER THE DECEASED!”
“It isn’t SLANDER if it’s TRUE, you stunted dumbass!” he responded.
“Ya strike Danish’s honor when he can’ respond, and now ya continue to insult us in our grief!?” the dwarf said, pushing Ballad back with all the force he could muster. At this point, dwarves of all ages and genders were exiting their homes, stunned looks on their faces as they witnessed Dane’s outburst.
“Someone has to teach ya a lesson! To put ya down like the dog ya ar'!”
“I assume you’re Danish’s mentor?! If so, I won’t even need to TRY to beat you! After all, the pupil is always WORSE THAN THE MASTER!”
“THAT IS IT!” he shouted, stepping back and walking towards his left, shouting for the blacksmith. One of the dwarves in the rapidly increasing audience tosses an axe towards him, which he catches in one hand. He then turns around, jabbing a finger towards Ballad.
“I will NOT STAND fer yer SLANDER! Fer yer INSULTS! Once I bury this axe in yer skull, I’ll cut yer head off and add it to my collection!”
“You fucking crazy old man…” Ballad said, reaching behind him to grasp his pickaxe, “so that’s how this will go, huh? You kill me, I never come back?!”
“Exactly, greenskin! I win, ya never set foot in these Fields again!”
“Well, then, if I WIN, you acknowledge the facts and PUT ME IN YOUR CORPS!”
Quote:Word Count: 1639
Okay, this post was honestly kinda terrible, but the next one will be much much better!
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New to OV? Need a question answered? Want a C&C of your work? Send a PM to me!
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