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Snippet #974340

located in Cordelia, a part of Quest: The Dragon of the Dungeon, one of the many universes on RPG.




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"He doesnae expect us tae return, is whit Ah hink," the dwarf said conspiratorially, eyeing the weapons that Arrow had pointed out on his person with vague interest. Though they were not the weapons she woluld have used, he was not trying to convince her to do so, so Sigrid saw no reason to give him the same kind of tongue lashing she had just given the blacksmith.

"Do you forge weapons here?"

For some unknown reason, probably something to do with either pride or temper, Sigrid felt the need to answer this question for the human smithy, effectively putting her conversation with Arrow on hold. "Och aye, if ye want tae caa those decrepit huntin' kni'es weapons!" she called out, her expression a cross between her obvious disdain for the man's craft and the pleasure she got from pointing out his flaws. "Ye'd be better aff fightin' bare-handed, unless yoo're skinnin' rats!"

With that, she returned to the previous conversation, regarding the little outburst as though it had never happened. "Ah hink his highness doesnae want tae waste his valuable trained soldiers, but he doesnae want tae be seen as a coward by his fowk. We're cannon fodder, sae he can shaw 'at he's makin' an effort withit losin' anythin' valuable. Or at leest, that's hoo he sees it." The dwarf shrugged her shoulders, a knowing smile on her face. "Way Ah see it, there's naethin' special abit a glaikit dragon, except he has puckle tricks up his sleeve 'at we're nae privy tae. We've got waur in th' lands belaw than ye topsiders gie us credit fur, eh'd wager, an' mair ay 'em besides."

Sigrid had only heard tales of Shard so far, had not seen anything of his handiwork, and as such, she had no idea whether or not he was truly an opponent to be feared. What she did know, however, was that a pair of dwarves could take a scouting company of drow without a problem, and that with the right fighters on the front line, even their matron mothers, high priestesses to the Spider Queen, bent and broke under the might of a dwarven axe. Surely a dragon could not be so much worse than that.

"Oh, that's nothing," Coriel said, excited to be coming along, no matter how brief her conversation with the drow turned out to be. "I mean, at least or--Err, Southerners are supposed to have a vague grasp on language. I saw a talking horse the other day--didn't stop and chat or anything, but you run into just about everybody in this city if you live here long enough, loquacious quadrupeds included. Did you know, there are absolutely know laws written for sentient non-humanoids?" Coriel was feeling talkative--after all, she had just made a new friend!

It had been a long time since she'd had a new friend, she recalled, thinking back on the boy with fond memories. Alright, so he hadn't really been what one could have called a friend, although he probably referred to himself as such. Coriel had been rather close to him, though he had never been a lover or anything like that--he'd been far too weirded out by the nymph's tendency to switch gender without notice, and even with notice, it had a tendency to bother him.

She had decided shortly after his death that love was a fantastic thing, when it happened to someone else. That had been a few years, though, and it was at least time to start making friends again. It was terribly hard to make friends when you were stealing from them, after all, and that had been Coriel's most recent roadblock on the matter.

Or perhaps that was her talking. But if that was the case, she hadn't noticed yet.