Dwarven Donnybrook and Asenaris Antics
Ukun stupidly asked again, and the elders exploded in anger.
"Do it right now, you bastard!"
"No... weren't you acting like you weren't going to do it earlier? Then you shouldn't have, right? No, no. You should."
The elders' eyes sparkled as they turned to me.
"Now that I hear it, it sounds like a fucking awesome construction job. Let's do it right now."
"Damn it! Who would've thought we'd be swinging hammers through monster-infested areas?"
"And unlimited cold beer on top? Hell yeah. It'd be weirder not to do it."
The elders didn't breathe a word about the Holy Sword. It was clear they'd forgotten all about it long ago.
"Of course I'd be thrilled if all you elders came, but the inn doesn't have enough rooms, and the material supplies might not keep up with your work pace."
"Hmm. Fair point. If we all jumped in, we'd probably work one hour and spend the other ten sucking our thumbs waiting for materials."
"Ukun said four including himself would be ideal, so we'll select three of you."
At that, the elders raised their voices claiming they should go, and soon they were grabbing each other's collars.
"Quiet down for a second!"
I bellowed, and the dwarves turned to me, still gripping each other's collars.
"I hear dwarves have a traditional way to settle tough decisions. Let's use that."
The elders' faces lit up with fierce competitive spirit. It wasn't anything fancy—just pure dwarf style: rough, brutal, and straightforward.
"Someone fetch the anvil!"
Soon the anvil was hauled into the meeting hall, drawing a crowd of other dwarves who'd heard the rumor. The elders stripped off their shirts and stretched, while Ukun drew his hammer with a solemn expression and stood before the anvil.
Brione whispered to me as she saw it.
"What are they doing? Some kind of guts test where they stick their hands under the anvil strikes?"
"Just watch."
Ukun, hammer in hand, turned to the elders.
"Everyone ready?"
"Get on with it!"
"Then... here we go...!"
Ukun raised the hammer high and slammed it down on the anvil with a deafening clang that rang in our skulls. At the same instant, the elders charged at each other, fists flying.
They pummeled anyone in sight without mercy. Every solid jaw-cracking hit and every elder hitting the floor drew cheers from the watching dwarves, who pumped their fists in the air.
"Look at these old timers go! Still a long way from retirement!"
"Our elders ain't ready to set down the hammer yet! Whoa! Wooaaah! Down he goes!"
Brione sighed in disbelief at the absurd brutality.
"Good god... They brought the anvil just to signal the start of a brawl...?!"
Unable to stomach the fight any longer, Brione stuck out her tongue and left the hall.
Ukun kept pounding the anvil harder with each falling elder, firing up the crowd even more.
Talk about a party...
A short while later, we emerged from the mine with three elders in tow. Bruised black-and-blue around the eyes, blood caked in their beards, they limped along happily, still buzzing from the fight and boasting about who fought better.
"Ah... my head's throbbing."
Brione, still covering her mouth and nose with a handkerchief, shook her head at the noise.
The moment we reached the mine entrance, she opened a dimensional gate and vanished inside. Ukun and I pried apart the elders—who were gearing up for round two—and shoved them through one by one.
Landing in the inn courtyard, I gave Ukun his orders.
"Tell Marim to call in all the suppliers from the last bathhouse material delivery. Order whatever materials you need in advance. And since Mollo's coming today, stock up on plenty of beer too."
"Don't worry. I've already got the quotes ready."
"And take those elders to the temple for some healing first..."
"Nah. Give the old geezers a keg of beer—they'll guzzle it and heal themselves."
Ukun chuckled, glancing at the elders howling up at Lurtjog's severed head mounted high.
"I'll place the orders, check out the construction site with the geezers. Go handle your stuff."
"Thanks."
I told Brione our next stop, and she promptly opened a gate there. Meanwhile, I dashed into the inn to find Pelle.
"Pelle! Where are those winter clothes we wore to Aepenzel last time?"
"In my room. Why?"
"Hand 'em over. Gotta catch more Asenaris."
Pelle dropped her broom and bounded up the stairs. While waiting, I pulled one lively Asenaris from the box behind the bar and tucked it into my bag—the most spirited and cheerful of the three.
Soon, Pelle waddled down alone, bundled in winter gear and carrying a spare set.
A bit flustered, I said,
"Uh... why are you wearing that? Brione and I can just pop through the gate."
Pelle paused, slightly flustered, then replied,
"Without a demon around, the Asenaris will all bolt."
Fair point. She could understand their language and had sweet-talked them well last time.
"Alright. You're coming too."
Out in the courtyard with Pelle, Brione's face soured instantly. She didn't get along with Pelle—or any of my staff, for that matter.
"What's the demon doing here?"
"She's coming. Demons can control monsters, right?"
"How special can Asenaris be? Just bag 'em and go."
Brione grumbled to herself as she took the winter clothes from me and suited up. Geared up, we stepped through the gate to the frozen northern hell of Aepenzel.
The gate opened far from Aepenzel, near the abandoned mine where we'd caught the Asenaris before. Flurries of huge snowflakes fell, but mercifully, no killer winds this time.
We plowed through knee-deep snow toward the mine. My Philistine strength let me charge ahead, and Pelle—demon-tough—kept up fine. But Brione wobbled slower and slower until she stopped, panting.
Powerful mage or not, her body was just average human.
Snow piling on her head, Brione snapped,
"I'm beat! Can't go farther!"
Looking down from the slope, Pelle muttered coolly,
"What a temper."
"Mages are always like that."
Standing alone in the snowfield, Brione gazed up at me expectantly, hoping I'd carry her. Fat chance.
"We'll be quick. Wait here if you can't keep up."
"No! Hold on!"
Brione fumbled a spell. Snow before her exploded outward like a gopher digging, flipping snow ahead until it stopped at us, carving a narrow path for one person.
"Why not use magic sooner?"
"Huff... huff..."
Too winded from the climb, Brione just gasped. That got us to the mine with her in tow.
The abandoned mine was unchanged since our last visit. Boulders that had collapsed the tunnel lay scattered at the entrance, troll blood still stained and unfaded.
"Light orbs."
Brione's glowing orbs floated into the tunnel. It was pitch dark and bitterly cold. Our breath froze on our eyelashes, forcing constant eye rubs.
How far did we go, shadows from the orbs twisting grotesquely? Then, faint singing voices echoed from deeper in—like tiny songs.
"Pelle. That's them, right?"
"Seems like it."
Brione, here for the first time, looked baffled between us.
"That's the Asenaris singing."
"They sing? I heard they communicate simply, but..."
Believe it or not, the song continued, faint blue glows flickering too.
"Kill the lights."
Brione dismissed the orbs, plunging the tunnel into blackness. The Asenaris glowed clearer now.
"There, Bertrand...!"
"Shh. They'll bolt if spooked."
"Want me to magic 'em?"
"No. Pelle's got it."
We crept silently closer. Our approach cut the singing short. A dozen Asenaris huddled warily.
Pelle advanced a few steps, squatted slowly before them. They should've fled, but her demon aura held them.
She opened the bag, gently placing our inn's Asenaris on the ground. Recognizing it, the others screeched excitedly, crowding to pat and hug its shoulders.
After the brief reunion, our Asenaris chattered persuasively—likely inviting them to the inn.
But the others, happy to see their friend, balked at following humans. No eager approach this time; they edged back.
"Pelle... not working..."
"Wait a bit longer."
Our Asenaris crossed its arms, pondering, then clapped with an 'AHA!' It pointed at me and Pelle alternately for its friends—then suddenly grabbed imaginary hips in front of its waist and thrust wildly back and forth.
After the embarrassingly vigorous humping, it cupped hands over its eyes like peeking, then grabbed the phantom partner again and shook its hips madly.
I stared in shock.
"Wha... what the hell is that little shit doing?!"