Storytime! I'll probably come up with something better (a picture) soon, but here's it anyway.
...The Royal Cavern, also known as Urvad gardens, was indeed the place where the gentledwarves of Torrid Lashes could enjoy respectable recreation in a calm, benign atmosphere of a well-kept fungy grove. One could never find this picturesque location empty at any time, even though only the most noble were able to stroll through the Cavern, talking about weather and His Gaudiness' Consort's new dress. Some high men of office, though, did find a way in, including the Chief Lawmaking Prosecutor, who found himself on a small pathway hidden behind two giant tower-caps. Hesitatengly he crossed a tiny wooden bridge, crawled trough a mossy passageway and stopped by a large shiny thump, covered in layers and layers of polish in order to look like a chair. Chief Prosecutor was not appreciating the nature beauty. In fact, he was scared, terrified to a point of shock and complete numbness. His weary legs brought him there, but he could walk no more. Astoundedly, he looked around and finally chose to rest on a comfortable pile of moss, surrounded by quarry bushes.
It took almost an hour for a battle-weathered dwarf to calm down. "This job really shattered my nerves". He though. "I ought to take a vacation, or a day-off, at very least". The shrubbery around murmured soothingly, and a pair of elk birds were bellowing far away, reminding Prosecutor of his home. "I probably gotta go". He thought, rising on his feet. "I don't wanna miss the evening meal, those sunshine cakes taste even better than they look". He froze. A huge, slender humanoid figure, which was following him the whole day, was standing right beside him. It was clad in mat black armor, which covered the creature from head to toes. The armor looked much like elven grown wood armor exept for it's unnattural colour. "It is not a vision". The Chief Prosecutor said to himself, shivering madly. The creature was real, an he simply had nothing to do but to ask:
"Who are you?"
The figure crossed it's long hands, not trying to reach for weapons or anything. The Prosecutor felt shame over the fact he was scared shitless of this person, no matter who he was. In fact, it took more than a cornstalk in an elvish suit of armor to make him lose his nerve! The Prosecutor readied him self for a fight.
"I am Blackwood". The figure replied in a deep voice. Dedpite the lack of accent, that voice was clearly non-dwarven. "A human or a more like a dirty elf". The Prosecutor thought.
"May I ask you for your name, good sir?"
The Prosecutor introdused himself, straightening himself and strengthening his voice. After all, he was an honorable servant of his Gaudiness, even though his opponent was a probably a mere trespasser, who was about to get arrested and thrown away by the guards.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Prosecutor." Blackwood glanced at him with black, insect-like eyes. The Chief Prosecutor shuddered, but calmed himself again. "What a strange helmet he is wearing".
"What's your business?"
"I am here to pass you the offering of my master, his Excellence." The elf in question nodded. "I am sure you will not leave this issue unattended".
"What is it?"
Blackwood stood idly. He reminded Chief Prosecutor of a gabbro statue, placed in the caverns by some bored mason.
"This is a matter of... utter importance. Do you know about the General?"
"What general? Ugh... You are talking about Sergeant General?"
"Yes. The one that was banished to the Pit".
The Prosecutor sighed. He did not really want to discuss the theme, as he didn't want to be mixed in, only signing the needed documents and leaving everything else to the Secret Office. Only after a while it struck him that the elf was talking about classified information.
"What are you talking about? What Pit? He is curreintly inspecting the northern border!" The Prosecutor shouted. Blackwood didn't seem to react at his outrage, instead lowering his head and looking in the dwarf's eyes.
"Don't act dumb". The elf stammered. "Listen here. Even though my master generally agrees on this measure, he wants to make sure that the General stays alive and in one piece. Understood?"
The Chief Prosecutor was silent. Not that the request was impossible, but that would probably go against His Gaudiness' orders, and those dwarves who fail to follow those orders usually found themselves in a re-education centre.
"...Or what?"
"Or an unfortunate accident might happen." Blackwood scratched his helmet-covered chin, looking above the dwarf. "Now, tell me. Do you accept the offer?"
"...No, I simply can not". The prosecutor shook his head. His Gaudiness' secret service was much more real than the threats of some elven grunt. And, after all, wasn't he a faithful subject of his king? He was, and he wasn't scared of some pesky nobility and their conspiracies.
"Well, that is you choice". Blackwood sighed and seated himself on a thump. The Prosecutor waited, but the elf seemed to ignore him.
"Am I free to go?" He asked, scratching his beard nervously.
"You may leave." Blackwood replied patienly, raising his hand.
The Chief prosecutor walked back, looking around. There were no more goons to pursue him, and Blackwood was far behind. He stopped on the bridge, to look at his reflection. "That was the right choise, after all". He thought. And suddenly, something grabbed him by his neck, lifting him in the air and sending him down with an unparalleled force. The prosecutor fell in the shallow stream, hitting sharp stones with his face. He tried to scream, but the attacker grabbed him again and pulled him undewater, into the river of muddy water and blood. He struggled against the grip, and finally managed to scream, but the thing that was mauling him forsed him to fall silent and his screams were not heard again.
"...I accept your offer". The Chief Prosecutor replied softly. "But tell me, will His Gaudiness be pleased by this?
"Do not worry, he will not mind you taking this actions". Blackwood nodded. "Good. Now, promise me that this little talk will remain personal".
"I promise".
The Chief prosecutor walked back, looking around. There were no more goons to pursue him, and Blackwood was far behind. He stopped on the bridge, to look at his reflection. "That was the right choise, after all". He thought. "I'll help a good man, yeah". The reflection did not reply. In fact, it neither approved nor criticised his choise. The Prosecutor smitked. It was time for him to go home.
Blackwood did not really care about the Prosecutor. In fact, he was fighting the all-sweeping hunger that tried to overcome him at that moment. But that dwarf was not enough to satisfy it, neither was that whole mountainhome. The whole elven nation was more like it.
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Topic: (34.11 Succession) Clobbermountains -- The End(?) (Read 400764 times)