The events of the 23rd of Malachite, 1067Vatek stood straight backed, his head held high, staring at the sun. He knew it was bad for him; after only a minute the pain was so intense he felt like crying and his eyes were full of spots for a long while after, but it did a lot to drone out whatever drivel Captain Fillwhip was saying. Sometimes the Captain just couldn't be ignored though, like now, when Vatek let out a groan as he took a hard punch to the arm.
"Quit day dreaming you damned slacker, and tell me why the hell my project is blinking red, green and white."
"It's not blinking," Vatek said after a moment, rubbing his arm. "That's the gems glittering. For the... I guess it's a stained glass window you wanted."
"Why the hell are there gems! I didn't order any gems! Cinnabar! That's what I wanted, cinnabar cinnabar cinnabar cinnabar! Didn't you look at my blueprints at ALL?"
"Those were BLUEPRINTS you gave Rice?" Vatek asked, shocked.
"What did you think they were?"
Vatek pulled a folded sheet of paper out from his backpack, flapping it open. Holding it with two hands, he gave it a shake. "This is NOT a set of blue prints."
"Then what the hell is it?" Stravitch asked sullenly.
"A crayon-drawn mess by a horrific madman. Why did you give the
sun a mouth full of razor teeth?"
"Because it'll tear you up. It's
the sun, how does that not click?"
"And what's that in the corner, screaming?"
"A dwarf I set on fire."
Vatek just closed his eyes. Off in the distance, there was a howl of pain and a scream from one of the haulers, "OH NO THE CAMELS! THEY KILLED ZUGLARS DOG AND ARE COMING FOR US!"
"Shouldn't you get that, Sir?" Vatek asked quietly.
"What? No, screw 'em. This is a lot more important."