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[The Architect]

Aaagghh been itching for an update of dwarfish combat! Go Tack go!

[Tack]

The commander turned around, seeing the hijacked caravan roll back down the hill, two muskox pulling it. With a smirk, he turned to one of the Honor guards next to him. “Tell the army to pull back when safe. It seems we’ve been outsmarted.” As the man hustled off, the commander leaned back and gave a satisfied sigh. It’d been a long time since a worthy adversary like this had turned up.

Meanwhile, Adil was in that wagon, looking back the other way at the train of caravans currently stranded on the hill. Turning, he faced Turen. “So... We’re going to the next temple. What’s the chances that something horrible has happened to it too?” Turen gave him a grim stare. “He who predicts adversity, predicts true.” Adil returned the stare, edging closer to Turen. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Don’t Jynx us, you idiot.”
“Oh. Ok. Let’s roll!”
Slowly, the caravan, with the stolen cargo intact, rolled along. The commander would have to take time to turn the entire convoy around, and currently, the army was still being ravaged by cave spiders, although most of them were dead.

Turning to Turen, Adil gave a stretch. “Map. Where?”
The map was pushed into his hands. “So, our next destination is... there. No problems, right?”
“None”, said Siira. “And the shopping central of the world is there.”
The dwarves all stared at the elf - however, after her initial death-stare, they busily found something to do.

The wagon rolls on.

[Servu]

Whoa. For a sec - I mean week - I thought that the story was dying. Nice reanimation there Tack.

The once/twice a week update pace is ok. After all, no-one can keep updating many times a day forever.

[martinuzz]

Hehe.. an elven bimbo, challenging you to take a crash course in feminism. Hilarious.

[Tack]

Yes, that was just me being really sleepy. Give me a moment to re-build the fourth wall, and I'll try get an update in tonight.

EDIT: I didn't get an update in tonight.

[The Architect]

*mumbles something about the need for ceilings and the irritating sun*

[The Architect]

 

[Tack]

I'll get around to it. Seriously. I will... I'm just busy with school and stuff. Consider this my artistic hibernation period.

[The Architect]

Looking forward to it man. Just wanted to let you know your fans are still here!

[Tack]

The city of Ja-Kerre was the only completely safe refuge for the gang of treasure hunters. At the beginning of their career, Adil and Turen both decided that they should have one major city which they never robbed, ignited, or caused inconvenience to in any way. (Except for barfights. But they don't Count. They are dwarves.) Truly, Kerre is the city of freedom for the party, where nobody chases them, (usually), nobody is trying to kill them (usually), and nothing gets destroyed because of them (sometimes).

Motev owned a suburban apartment in Kerre, which the Dwarves would usually stay in while they were in the city. Siira usually was sleeping somewhere else most nights. As their long-beloved wagon rolled to a stop behind the abandoned house they usually kept it in, Adil jumped out and moved to a wall. Grasping a hold of the pieced wood, he pulled it back, as a fair section of the back wall of the house tipped across, leaving enough space for the wagon to roll into the empty dining room. After Motev had installed multiples of explodey and sharp things to the wheels and steering yoke of the wagon, they all, exhausted, returned to Motev's apartment. Sitting in silence around the fire in the middle, they all contemplated silently, mulling their own thoughts. However, one person was not as calm as the rest of the Dwarves. Shuffling back and forth, the figure eventually stood, gave a sigh, and left the room, leaving the other dwarves glancing quizzically at eachother.


"Tell me... Where are the chests I ordered?". The figure speaking was a stocky and powerful dwarf, the left side of his face pocked and scarred, the signs of a fire in his younger life. In front of him, a nervous attendant was standing. "Sir, the materials you req-" "I don't care how much materials you need, or how you get it. When I ask for two black bronze chests, I expect them in a timely manner." Standing, the noble advanced on the attendant, as a gigantic red dog slinked out from behind the throne, weaving it's way around to rub it's head on his shoulder as he walked. "I don't make unreasonable demands. Now. As punishment for your failure I am ordering the detainment and imprisoning of the castle blacksmith. And I still want those chests, so, learn to smith Very Quickly." Stopping inches short of the terrified attendant, the noble brought his hand sharply up between their faces, and clicked. "Saataana."
Immediately the dog rose to it's hackles, rumbling growls beginning to echo throughout the lavish room. Staring condescendingly at the figure before him, the noble lifted his arm to pat the dog as it moved forwards, while motioning for the newly made blacksmith to stand.
"Saataana. Escort him from the premises, please."
The dog looked knowingly at the noble before giving what could almost be considered a nod, before, with a flick of it's neck muscles, shoving the attendant towards the door. As he exited with the dog behind him, another, more gaudily clad assistant entered.
"Master Eyesh'ra. There is someone to see you."
"Who is it"
The assistant gave a small stutter, before continuing.
"Your son"

[Tack]

Hopefully this will pull me back into gear on this story. Sorry, no updates three times a day just yet, until I shrug the story-telling rust from my shoulders. But, I will be starting to post story pieces again.
Longer ones.

[Tack]

Adil roared as he hurled a table across the room, slamming into the door, triggering yet another one of Motev's traps, which, with a small 'ping', returned a small dart, twanging into the wall next to the outraged dwarves ear. Any perception of danger, however, was shunted aside in the face of Dwarven Fury. "Where the hell is he!?"

Meanwhile, the other members of the group were sitting behind an overturned couch, as Motev read back through a letter, found on the table which was now in three pieces occupying one of the corners of the room.
"Well, he doesn't seem to be coming back for a while." Turen thumped the bottom of the lounge. "Well, how much detail did he give?" As Motev flipped the note open again, he gave a small shrug "Just says, 'going away, find the last temple without me. I'll find you -Servu".
Turen shook his head with a small sigh, before taking the letter from Motev. Looking at it quizically, he shrugged and dropped it back on Motev's lap. "I'll go by what you said".
"What, you can't read?"
"I never bothered to learn. Tanesh can't read. Can you Tanesh?"
"..."
"See?"
"Hey, you could get just as much from that as I could."
"Motev... You need to learn to listen to the Emotion in the silence."
"You're a piss-pot"
Turen gave a startled gasp. "Speaking of pisspot".
Gingerly, the Dwarves raised their heads above the relative safety of the lounge, to be confronted with an empty room, and a door half-off it's hinges.
Turen gripped the couch, rising with dread. "Adil... He's gone to the."
"Pub."

_____

The noble sat upon his throne, Condescending smugness leaking from every pore. "So. Servu, my boy. What brings you back here?" Servu shook, but swallowed his anger, and continued. "I need to finish it".
The older man's laugh echoed through the Throne room. "Finish it? Ha!" Standing, he threw away his robe, revealing a muscular body, clad only in a sarong, speckled with rings and adornments, plus, two complicated tatoos covering his chest and neck, and a third tattoo running down the back of his wrists. "Twenty Eight years of study, Boy. Twenty Eight Years go into getting these markings. How much time do you expect me to be your tutor for?" Servu climbed two stairs as his voice rose. "Silence, old man. You were the one who abandoned the Ways and the Lore. You were the one who moved into a life of indolent Luxury. And, as much as every breathing member of your tribe curses your name, they also talk of you."
Dungeon Master Eyesh'ra Get'seng gave a short, barking laugh. "Oh, my boy. You think you have what it takes to try it?"
"If a blasphemous leech like you can do it, I'm more than capable", Servu spat.
"Boy. Calling me names will do you no good. But, for the sheer sake of earning me amusement when you fail, I'll teach you. But. I require payment."
Servu nodded, his face grim. "How much?"
Eyesh'ra raised himself up, his face grim. "The gifts I gave you, when I left the village. I want them back."
Servu gasped. "The gifts... The price, it's too cos-"
"This is no longer about Price, Boy. It's about if you have the Conviction and guts which you will need to survive!"
Servu paused, then, sighing, he nodded his assent. Shrugging his backpack off his shoulders, he flipped the top, and drew out his second mace. Looking over it, he gave a shrug, and threw it to the ground at his father's feet.
The noble stooped, snatching the mace out of mid-air, before twirling it idly as he continued talking. "Servu. All of them"
Servu stood, silent. He lifted his head to speak, before recoiling. Slowly, he raised his head again.
"Pe-"
Servu once again stopped, terrified and horrified at the task before him. Staring at the backs of his unmarked hands, he grew his resolve again.
"Perkiantelen"
The burnt edges of the noble's mouth twisted up into a horror's grin, as he repeated the word. Then, slipping the mace into his belt, he patted the young dwarf on the shoulder as he left. "Very well. Go to the west chamber and sleep there. Tomorrow, you begin your path on The Fast Way".

[The Architect]

Reading happily, don't understand the latest update. I assume you'll give us the context in your own time.

[Tack]

Righto, boys and girls. I took a week off to write out the complete storyline and planning for the story, so, the pace of the updates is most likely going to go up a notch. Or five.

[Servu]

It's good to see the story continued, too bad my conscription in the Finnish Defense Forces won't allow me a lot of free time to read them, but I'll try to make do with what I have.