Nymph and Dragon
01-10-07, 12:48 AM
((Closed to Dirks))
The air was cold and gritty, thick with the dust that drifted down from the dwarven mines carved into the face of the range miles above the ground on which Twyla stood. A gorgeous sunset split the sky with bands of radiant color, casting a pinkish light on the grassless land at the mountain’s base. A figure in a sweeping purple cloak stood in the fading light, completely ignoring the brilliance of twilight and frowning down at a parchment in her hand, irritably pushing away strands of blond hair that fell across her face as she squinted at the scrawled text.
“I can’t even read his blasted handwriting,” she muttered, bringing the paper closer to her nose. “How the heck am I supposed to know who it is I’m waiting for?”
I doubt that there will be many people coming around these parts at night. Some of the dwarves in town think it’s haunted. The chirping voice of the Elemental broke through the nymph’s concentration and she looked up, still frowning, to peer at the large pile of rocks that sat a few meters in front of her. Though the stones seemed to have been piled carelessly, closer inspection showed that each of the rocks had been carved to fit perfectly into the ones that surrounded it, making a seven-foot jigsaw puzzle of intricately simple design, testament to the skill of the dwarven creator.
“Spare me the drivel.” She took one last look at the paper and then tossed it carelessly over her shoulder. “You’ll need your air for the tomb.”
This isn’t going to be dangerous is it? It’s just some kind of commencement thing, right?
“How should I know?” Twyla answered crossly. “I’ve never been in a dwarven tomb before, either.”
A wave of unhappiness came clearly across their link. I have. It’s not someplace I’d pick for an initiation ceremony.
Twyla shrugged. “Then it’s a good thing they don’t entrust important decisions to morons like you, isn’t it?” She crossed her arms and tapped one foot impatiently against the rocky ground. “It shouldn’t be a problem. We’re doing this at night to avoid attention and we should be out of this horrid country by morning. Once this, this . . . Mak Diks shows up, it’ll be a simple retrieval. We go in, grab the gem, and get out. No problem.”
Why am I not believing that it’s going to be as simple as you say?
“Because you’re a faithless worm that lacks the intelligence to believe in the judgment of your betters,” she retorted. “I’m an Apostle of Aurora, keeper of a great Pillar Pearl, and smarter than you could ever hope to be. So shut up and do your best to blend into the scenery so that you don’t detract from my image.”
Turning away from the shapeless sculpture and the hidden crack in the ground beside it that led into the tomb, Twyla pulled her scarf up from around her neck and wrapped it around the lower part of her face, then pulled her hood down over her forehead, leaving only blue eyes uncovered to glare penetratingly at the frozen forest that started a few meters away from where she stood.
“I’m going to kill something if he doesn’t come soon,” the nymph warned. "Probably you."
The dragon ignored her hollow threat. Bodily harm dealt to one was felt by the other, and Twyla had a low tolerance for pain. It spoke optimistically while crawling in the dry dirt at her feet, head close to the ground as it searched for signs of life below the surface. Mak Diks. Sounds like a fighter’s name.
“It sounds dwarven,” she declared disdainfully, “and the only thing I like less than dwarves are human men.” She paused and thoughtfully looked up at the sky, noticing with distaste that clouds were starting to gather overhead.
"And women," she added after a moment. "And nastly vipers like you. And kids, too, especially if they're human. Oh, and . . ."
The dragon tuned her out and crawled nearer to the tomb, sniffing delicately. The only scent it could detect from the hole was that of cold dirt and stale air, but its hackles were still raised. Claws digging into the dirt, the Elemental's eyes glowed with worry as it braced itself for whatever the nymph had gotten them into.
The air was cold and gritty, thick with the dust that drifted down from the dwarven mines carved into the face of the range miles above the ground on which Twyla stood. A gorgeous sunset split the sky with bands of radiant color, casting a pinkish light on the grassless land at the mountain’s base. A figure in a sweeping purple cloak stood in the fading light, completely ignoring the brilliance of twilight and frowning down at a parchment in her hand, irritably pushing away strands of blond hair that fell across her face as she squinted at the scrawled text.
“I can’t even read his blasted handwriting,” she muttered, bringing the paper closer to her nose. “How the heck am I supposed to know who it is I’m waiting for?”
I doubt that there will be many people coming around these parts at night. Some of the dwarves in town think it’s haunted. The chirping voice of the Elemental broke through the nymph’s concentration and she looked up, still frowning, to peer at the large pile of rocks that sat a few meters in front of her. Though the stones seemed to have been piled carelessly, closer inspection showed that each of the rocks had been carved to fit perfectly into the ones that surrounded it, making a seven-foot jigsaw puzzle of intricately simple design, testament to the skill of the dwarven creator.
“Spare me the drivel.” She took one last look at the paper and then tossed it carelessly over her shoulder. “You’ll need your air for the tomb.”
This isn’t going to be dangerous is it? It’s just some kind of commencement thing, right?
“How should I know?” Twyla answered crossly. “I’ve never been in a dwarven tomb before, either.”
A wave of unhappiness came clearly across their link. I have. It’s not someplace I’d pick for an initiation ceremony.
Twyla shrugged. “Then it’s a good thing they don’t entrust important decisions to morons like you, isn’t it?” She crossed her arms and tapped one foot impatiently against the rocky ground. “It shouldn’t be a problem. We’re doing this at night to avoid attention and we should be out of this horrid country by morning. Once this, this . . . Mak Diks shows up, it’ll be a simple retrieval. We go in, grab the gem, and get out. No problem.”
Why am I not believing that it’s going to be as simple as you say?
“Because you’re a faithless worm that lacks the intelligence to believe in the judgment of your betters,” she retorted. “I’m an Apostle of Aurora, keeper of a great Pillar Pearl, and smarter than you could ever hope to be. So shut up and do your best to blend into the scenery so that you don’t detract from my image.”
Turning away from the shapeless sculpture and the hidden crack in the ground beside it that led into the tomb, Twyla pulled her scarf up from around her neck and wrapped it around the lower part of her face, then pulled her hood down over her forehead, leaving only blue eyes uncovered to glare penetratingly at the frozen forest that started a few meters away from where she stood.
“I’m going to kill something if he doesn’t come soon,” the nymph warned. "Probably you."
The dragon ignored her hollow threat. Bodily harm dealt to one was felt by the other, and Twyla had a low tolerance for pain. It spoke optimistically while crawling in the dry dirt at her feet, head close to the ground as it searched for signs of life below the surface. Mak Diks. Sounds like a fighter’s name.
“It sounds dwarven,” she declared disdainfully, “and the only thing I like less than dwarves are human men.” She paused and thoughtfully looked up at the sky, noticing with distaste that clouds were starting to gather overhead.
"And women," she added after a moment. "And nastly vipers like you. And kids, too, especially if they're human. Oh, and . . ."
The dragon tuned her out and crawled nearer to the tomb, sniffing delicately. The only scent it could detect from the hole was that of cold dirt and stale air, but its hackles were still raised. Claws digging into the dirt, the Elemental's eyes glowed with worry as it braced itself for whatever the nymph had gotten them into.