Prairiemerchant, 1st Felsite, 367
When Rakust hobbled into sight of the dwarven Mountainhome of Prairiemerchant he was met by an unexpected yet familiar figure.
"Daywalker!" he cried, grinning broadly. "I thought I'd lost you at Braidedplunge!" Rakust's smile vanished. "When you abandoned me to lions."
"Hey, you're alive!" cried the dwarf, conveniently ignoring the last comment. He approached, sticking his pistol into its holster. "Didn't think you'd make it more than a month with that leg." Daywalker stared at the limp limb, as if only just noticing its uselessness. "Still dead, huh?"
"As that hydra you boasted you were going to kill," snapped Rakust.
"Yeah, I tried to get through the swamps but I got some sort of fever. Took shelter in an old, hollowed out tree and mostly ate grubs for about a week until it broke. I made enquiries at Braidedplunge, where they told me some human girl had killed it."
"Oh, for the sake of the gods," Rakust yelled, throwing up his shield arm, "it wasn't the girl, it was-"
"I know!" said Daywalker with a beaming smile. "Isn't it brilliant?"
"It was- Wait, you know? It is?" Rakust frowned.
"Well yes, of course it is!" laughed Daywalker. "My very own friend, a monster slayer! Who would have known?"
"Oh." Rakust coughed and straightened up as best he could on one leg, affording himself a rare smile. "Well, I'm glad you know. Respect ought to be given to those who deserve it."
"And not just the hydra! Ertal Heatedgem, the dragon, as well. And now Smospe Warbronze, the Ignited Warrior!"
"Yes," said Rakust testily. "I know."
"Oh, I wouldn't have thought you'd have heard," said Daywalker, raising his eyebrows. "He only just returned with Warbronze's body. Was very heavy to carry, he had to get help from the local dwarves."
"Well of course it was heavy, it was thirty foot tall and made entirely out of- Wait, he?"
"Well, yes. Savir Soundpost. Haven't you heard?"
"Savir. Soundpost." Rakust could feel his knuckles cracking with the grip on his spear.
"Yes, he was our outpost liason. Truthfully, nobody thought him capable of such, but he brought back the body of the hydra - well, he dismembered most of it to make it easier to carry - as well as Ertal's body and just now the body of Warbronze. There's a whole feast and celebration going on."
"Really." Rakust felt his grip on the spear relax. His bitter frown broadened into a wide, malicious smile. "You know what, Daywalker? I would love to meet this Savir. Face to face."
It was a festival. Trumpets were blown, drums were played, dwarven children were throwing firecaps down from the upper balconies of the Mountainhome's central pit in celebration. At the very centre of the festivities was Savir Soundpost himself upon a raised wooden platform, beaming proudly beneath the benevolent gaze of his Queen. It appeared to Rakust that he had just been granted some kind of honour. And, perfectly situated for Rakust, was the enormous almost-reconstructed body of Smospe Warbronze stood beside him. It was missing, of course, its left index finger.
Perhaps Warbronze really was dead, or perhaps you needed to rejoin its broken limbs a little more securely than rough sandstone and cement mortar to reanimate them, because it certainly wasn't striding around terrorizing the populace. Still, it did give Rakust an idea.
Rakust worked his way through the crowd as best as his game leg could manage. He had sheathed his spear to avoid suspicion and was using a branch from the forest as a crutch in its place. He managed to insinuate himself into a queue of excited dwarves, all waiting to shake the hand of the glorious hero. He managed to lose Daywalker as well; probably for the best, given what he had in mind.
As the queue filed slowly past the broad legs of the bronze colossus, Rakust took a good look at the mortar used to stick the legs together. Not high-quality volcanic stuff like they used in the dark fortresses, cheap sand and cement grit that hadn't even set right yet. Well, that was to his advantage. As surreptitiously as he could, Rakust took a shard of bone from one of the pouches about his waist and filed away at one of the mortar-filled joins as the queue passed, letting a few dwarves queue jump to get the job done. When he was satisfied with his satisfied, he rejoined the queue.
"You're my hero!" squealed a tiny dwarven child two dwarves in front of Rakust; the goblin had hidden himself behind the child's much larger father. "How did you do it, Mister Soundpost?"
"Well, sonny, I used my brain," said Savir, giving the child a rough tousle of his hair. "That's what you've got to count on, more than your axe, more than your hammer - outsmarting your enemy."
As the child was ushered away by his oversized parent, Rakust stepped foward with a crooked smile, savouring the look of dread that fell across Savir's face.
"Wise words, Soundpost. Wise words indeed." Rakust clutched the large, bronze finger of Warbronze in one hand, his crutch in the other. Savir's eyes darted from the finger to the sheathed spear on his back.
"What have you come for, goblin?" demanded Savir. "You can't start anything here, we're surrounded by guards."
"Who said I was here to start anything?" said Rakust, his false smile broadening. He stepped close to Savir, uncomfortably close. The dwarf stepped back. "I just want to celebrate you on your victory?"
"V-Victory? What are you talking about?"
"Why, all of your successes." Rakust gestured with the colossus finger towards its former owner. "Narena, Ertal, Warbronze. You must be very proud." He stepped closer, Savir stepped back.
"What do you mean? You know as well as I do that it wasn't - you know what happened!"
"As do you, Soundpost," crooned Rakust, his grin widening into a fixed, manic leer. He stepped forward and Savir stumbled backward, almost tripping on his own feet. "And it was well played, Savir, well played indeed. Treachery worthy of the Dark Lord himself. I am most impressed, and you are deserving of your victory."
"But- But if you don't have a problem with this, why are you here?" Savir looked behind himself; he was still a dozen feet from the edge of the platform. He had almost worried the goblin was trying to maneuver him off the edge. He looked back to find that Rakust was almost breathing in his face and, rather defiantly, took another step backward, intending to hold his place.
"Oh, that's simple. Pay me."
Savir's eyes held the glint of panic for a moment, then he suddenly remembered his position. Here he was, surrounded by dwarves, surrounded by an army and in plain view. Even the goblin had admitted that he'd outplayed him, so what in the world was he worrying for? Savir allowed himself a good chuckle - his fears had almost gotten the better for him. He returned a snide grin of his own to the goblin.
"No," Savir said. "No, I don't think I will."
"Is that your final decision?" Rakust asked. The false smile fell from his features, but he made no further steps forward. If anything, he seemed to be favouring his cane more strongly than before.
"Yes, goblin. Go back to whatever hole you crawled out from and stay there."
Murder flashed in Rakust's eyes, but Savir met them with a hearty gaze of his own. Secure in his defences, he held the goblin's stare until the goblin broke away, the anger passed. Rakust turned around and began hobbling away, then stopped.
"Savir," he called back. "I couldn't help but notice your trophy is missing a digit. Mind if I toss it onto the pile?" Savir raised an eyebrow at the wording.
"What pile-"
With a mighty hurl, Rakust flung the ninety-seven 'rist bronze finger, almost the length of his own forearm, against the cracked calf of the colossus. The statue resounded with a heavy clang and fragments of mortar crumbled away, already weakened by sabotage. With a deafening groan, the whole statue began to topple. Savir barely jumped in time, but Rakust was already pushing himself out of the way with every ounce of strength left in his working leg.
The collapsing colossus reduced the platform to splinters, sending up a huge cloud of dust that obscured it from the watching eyes of the marksdwarves above. Such was the shouting and milling of the crowd that almost nobody heard the cries of a lone dwarf, trapped beneath the colossus' broken form. Almost nobody.
Savir's cries became frantic gurgles as ninety seven 'rists of bronze were forced onto his windpipe, cramming it shut. Above him and leaning heavily onto him was the silhouette of a figure draped in wolfskin rags, obscured by the cloud of dust.
"I can kill you right now, and nobody will ever know it was me," Rakust growled.
Savir gargled in response.
"Pay me!" Rakust demanded, lifting the bronze finger enough to give Savir a reprieve to breathe and answer.
"What do you wan-" Savir began, but the bronze weight crushed his throat once again.
"I want dwarves, or materials. I haven't decided which yet. When I come for them, you will pay me with them, and you won't delay about it. Understood?"
Savir made choking noises. Rakust lifted the bronze and the dwarf nodded frantically. Once more for measure, Rakust thrust the bronze into Savir's throat.
"Betray me again," he promised, "and no army, no man, no god will halt my vengeance."
The silhouette of the goblin stood, leaning heavily upon his cane, and tossed the bronze weight to the ground with a heavy clang. By the time Savir was able to massage his throat and regain some breath, he had already passed into the dust cloud.
Somewhere in the distance, he could hear dwarves coming to dig him out. Savir lay back and coughed dust and blood, trying to think past the shooting pain in his leg. Only one thought came clear, and it echoed the goblin's words.
Pay me.
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Topic: Goblin Manor (Fortress) - Wardedhawks, The Home of Heroes (Read 17901 times)