[I'm a bit miffed with myself. I just spent a not insignificant period of time today fully fleshing out (in writing, no less) the character of Cog Wrathhammer. Strictly speaking, it was a different Cog than the one who appeared in this (he's my D&D char [I use Cog a lot; he transcends the boundaries of his medium]), but most of his traits carry over. This is annoying because I wrote Cog out of this story, and have no reason to bring him back. Still, I have another character I'm working on (for something pretty much unrelated to anything else, and that will likely never be finished) that I might be able to slip in somewhere.]
[Anyway, that's not really of interest to anyone but myself. What's slightly more relevant is that I have a story post to make! Hooray!]
Gizogin, having slipped away from Corvus and his friends, finally reached the entrance to the fortress proper. Even from the surface, he could hear the sounds of rowdy, inebriated dwarves. For once, that was entirely welcome. He climbed down into the tunnels and headed for where he knew the booze stockpile had been before the collapse. The way wasn't entirely clear of rubble, but it wasn't terribly difficult to navigate.
Gizogin had never had much of a tolerance for alcohol, and it wasn't long at all before the strong dwarven brews had covered his mind in a delightful haze. He'd sat down against the wall to stop the room spinning, and was currently chatting with two similarly intoxicated dwarves.
"So what, she's my own sister, and she can't even tell me a little thing like the fact that she's demon spawn?" he slurred. "'Oh hey big brother,'" he said, miserably failing to impersonate Lana's voice. "'I just thought you should know that everything you've known about me since I was born is a lie.' Would've been nice, you know? But noooo, she has to wait until a freaking dragon forces it out of her."