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Making a Mark In The World
Chapter 4: In Other News, Mountains Get Colder

Chapter 4: In Other News, Mountains Get Colder

She wore her rage like armor. Her wrath showed itself with each beat of her wings.

This wasn’t a hunt.

This was an execution.

Defensive fortifications dotted the mountain. Goblins peeked out here and there, clearly wearing above-average weapons and armor. They had had training, and many moved with military precision.

Unimportant bugs.

She picked a spot at random. There, that parapet.

Folding her wings, she transformed in the air.

What landed was an elf… or rather, someone’s fantasy of what an elf should look like.

Her body was perfect.

TOO perfect.

Impossibly perfect.

White high heels. Since when does an elf wear heels?

Impossibly long legs, caressed by lacy white sheer stockings that went up to her thighs.

A slinky white dress made of almost see-through fabric, with a slit up the side that left no doubt to anyone looking that she was clearly not wearing panties.

An incredibly thin waist.

Enough cleavage to show that a bra was also not something she wore. The light fabric covering her bountiful breasts clearly showed the outline of her nipples.

Since when do elves have chests that big?

Her long, curly silvery-white hair flowed down her back like a mane, down to her buttocks.

Her eyebrows were silvery-white as well.

As if her too-tall, too voluptuous body wasn’t enough, her eyes were a dead giveaway that she wasn’t an elf.

Since when do elves have solid red eyes?

They were smoldering rubies, glowing with her anger.

Although she had landed from that height, in those heels, it didn’t show.

She simply stood up, and stalked towards the interior of the mountain.

To give them some minor, small amount of credit, the goblins were right there as she entered the room. They surrounded her instantly, with spears, swords, and bows. Two were obviously female shamans.

One might think they had the drop on her.

It might, in some minuscule way perhaps, be considered done well. For goblins.

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?” demanded one particularly ugly specimen. His face and body bore scars from many a battle. It could be he was supposed to be some sort of veteran.

Annoying insects.

She let slip a trifle of the rage she felt.

The entire room turned white.

She took another step, and the goblins shattered, painting the walls in frozen red snow.

She took another step.

Another.

“U-Um…”

Another goblin. The one who had just stepped into the doorway was wearing a butler’s outfit, and was completely white… with fear.

“P-Please forgive that one, I-I’m sure he meant it as, ‘HOW the hell are you?’ W-W-Who should I say is calling?”

She kept walking towards the doorway. Incredible. Unstoppable.

“White.” She growled it through clenched teeth.

“Th-Th-Then please excuse me, Lady White. I will go inform the master immediately!”

He fled as if his life depended on it.

It did.

Still…

“LADY White.” She muttered it to herself.

She liked the sound of it.

Lady.

Lady White.

She decided. From now on she would be called Lady White.

It might even be possible that one goblin could in fact live to see tomorrow.

Maybe.

He was just a goblin, after all.

As she made her way into the inner core of the mountain, casualties were… surprisingly light.

Two squads of fifty tried to ambush her inside a hallway from both sides with magic wands.

They never managed to get a shot off.

A small army of two hundred tried to face her while hiding behind tall shields at the foot of a staircase in some sort of tortoise formation.

The metal shattered as easily as their bodies.

After that she only met three male goblins dressed as French maids (punishment?) on her way down.

Bob Blazer looked like a human.

He wasn’t.

He was dressed in a twentieth century pinstripe suit, perfectly tailored. It had a white handkerchief sticking out from the chest pocket, a starched white shirt hiding under the jacket, and a blood-red power tie wound itself around his neck. His shoes were, naturally, made of shiny black leather.

His face looked like it delighted in life… and even more so when someone lost against him.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

His mouth would make millions if he were to appear in a toothpaste commercial. One could almost hear the sparkling *ping!* coming from his teeth when he smiled.

And smiled he did. He liked smiling, a lot.

He wasn’t smiling right now, though.

His hair was black, slicked up and shaped like the hair of an old 1960s black-and-white TV show character. One distinctly got the impression there should be light-hearted background music playing (with flutes and violins, perhaps) whenever he went somewhere.

If a man had to describe him, he would say Bob Blazer looked just like a game show host.

If a woman had to describe him, she would say he was shorter than she would have liked, but still very handsome, except for his eyes.

They were solid amethyst in color, with only a little flickering in them to give away his nervousness.

Sending troops to White didn’t help her to calm down. The maids didn’t confuse her enough. Oh well, they were just goblins, what could you expect?

His best bet now was to do nothing and wait.

He hated having to wait, especially when his life was on the line.

He had the one he dressed as a butler guide her – in a roundabout way – to the study.

No sense in letting her get lost.

She might destroy the whole mountain in order to find him, and there was simply too much here he couldn’t afford to lose just yet, and one big, wonderful thing he couldn’t move at all.

It, and it alone, was worth risking his life.

Despite his nervousness, he smiled.

If White thought she was angry now…

Alert: “Spoilsport” is primed. Vacate the area immediately.

Alert: “Spoilsport” is primed. Vacate the area immediately.

Alert: “Spoilsport” is primed. Vacate the area immediately.

Muh?

Alert: “Spoilsport” is primed. Vacate the area immediately.

He shook his head to clear it and to shake the rainwater from his eyes.

Alert: “Spoilsport” is primed. Vacate the area immediately.

Computer.

Online. Alert: “Spoilsport” is primed. Vacate the area immediately.

The drop pod landed on my head AGAIN.

User Complaint #127482 noted and logged. Alert: “Spoilsport” is primed. Vacate the area immediately. Alert: Two humanoids approaching. ETA: 3.45 minutes.

He staggered away from the machine, the rain making his footsteps slippery in the mud.

As soon as I get clear, hit the Spoilsport.

Acknowledged. “Spoilsport” will activate in 10. 9. 8. Alert: Two humanoids approaching. ETA: 14 seconds.

What? Computer, Stealth Mode!

Immediately his athletic body became thinner.

Smaller.

Anyone looking at him would think he had just turned into a child. His body suit and backpack now looked far too large on his tiny body. His small hands were now completely covered by his sleeves. His utility belt didn’t slide off onto the ground, but it looked like it wanted to.

This look was intentional, and it wasn't the only thing that had happened to his body.

Stealth Mode engaged. “Spoilsport” is activated. Alert: Two humanoids approaching. ETA: 7 seconds.

As he slipped away, unnoticed, under cover of the darkness and the rain, the drop pod activated its “Copyright Protection Spoilsport Device”, aka an atomic debonder. It was made to prevent exactly the sort of thing the dwarves wanted to do, and it worked admirably.

In an instant, every single atom in a two meter radius around the drop pod… just stopped touching each other anymore.

Simply put, the drop pod, and everything around it, had disintegrated.

All around the planet, the heartfelt cry of the dwarves resounded:

“AWW NO~!”

After the initial shock, somewhat more… shall we say, HEATED words were said.

Note to Self: NEVER run out of caffeine before a chapter is done. Easily a +10 to difficulty!