After a few days, the adventurers got used to Eric and Phisola visiting their camp on a daily basis. The dwarf even gave them a cart on the second day to help them in collecting wood so they wouldn’t have to make several trips per day.

“Do you know what I’m about to do?” Phisola said to Eric as they approached the adventurers’ camp with a cart full of wood, “I’m going to demand from that dwarf to let me inspect his work.”

“I don’t know much about dwarves, but aren’t they very prideful?” Eric said, “Are you sure he will take it well? Aren’t you worried he might take it as a sign that you don’t trust his skill?”

“Oh, he certainly will. There is no doubt about that. He’s going to throw a hissy fit for sure.”

“I don’t think that pissing off the only guy who knows how to build what we need is a wise idea.”

“Don’t worry. The dwarves are famous for throwing hissy fits, but they’re also very reasonable. He will be pissed off at first, but as long as my arguments are good, he will accept it in the end.”

“Won’t it get you on his bad side if he accepts it begrudgingly?”

“No, it won’t. Actually, I bet it will be the exact opposite. He will appreciate me much more once he realizes I’m a logical person.”

“Hmm … you may be smart and intelligent, but I wouldn’t call you logical.”

Phisola turned her head slowly, “Is my bitch talking back to me?”

“This is what I mean. You didn’t even let me give you an argument.”

“It’s because you have no right to give me one. I don’t want to hear you talking about logic when you decided to run away on your own into the dangerous, underground, monster-filled halls just because you didn’t like the food I gave you.”

Eric’s eyes squeezed shut as his mouth opened wide, “You know that’s not the proper way to describe it!”

“I even made you a specialty. A rare delicacy many would kill for, and what did you do? Run away like a complete idiot, getting yourself killed in the process.”

“Many would kill for?” His eyes opened wide in disbelief, “You literally can’t have it without killing someone!”

“Are you saying that killing is wrong? People kill a deer and then have a stew, and what is wrong with that? You’re sounding like some tree-hugging elf right now.”

He extended his arm in front of him in frustration, “It’s not the …”

Suddenly, he stopped talking for a few moments.

“I am literally arguing with a devil about how killing and eating people is wrong. I’m a complete idiot.”

“Thank you! I’m glad you realize it.”

“Since I can’t use common sense against you, I have no choice but to use your own logic. Tell me, how can you say that you’re logical when you’ve wasted a full cauldron of blood to bring me back to life?”

Phisola stared at him angrily for a while, her eyebrow twitching. Eric just stared her back, patiently waiting for her response.

“First of all, it wasn’t full. If it were full, I’d teleport us already.”

“Still, you wasted plenty of blood on a complete idiot. How can you say that’s logical?”

“But it is. We’ve convinced the adventurers to help us out, and it’s all thanks to you. There is no way they’d ever negotiate with me.”

“Are you sure? I’m pretty sure I caught you negotiating with them in their language.”

“That’s only because you’ve convinced them I mean them no harm. But they’d never let me into the camp if not for you. They’d be too scared to do it. And even if they did, they’d piss me off during negotiations, and I’d end up killing them all. So clearly, spending all that blood to bring you back was a wise investment on my part.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Eric snorted loudly, “As if you knew it would work.”

“No, I didn’t. That’s what investments are. You never know if those will pay off or not.”

“Still, a logical person would never take such a risk. But wait … why the fuck are we arguing about how logical you are? I was sure I had a very important point to make, but now you threw me off.”

“You can’t even remember your conversations, yet you still think you have a right to preach about logic.”

“That’s because you’re always derailing the conversation when you hear something you don’t like! I know I was trying to make a very important point that would benefit you too, but now I can’t remember it! You can’t go through life ignoring well-intentioned comments from people who care about you just because those comments may hurt your pride somehow!”

“Aww … you care about me …” she said in a mocking, childish voice.

“I hate it, but I do! I guess I’ve developed Stockholm syndrome. Besides, we’ve been through a lot together. I’d be dead if not for you. Hell, I’ve been dead, and you brought me back to life. So yes, it’s only natural for me to care about you. I strongly disagree with many of your statements, some things you do are utterly repulsive to me, but I’d be lying if I said that I don’t care about you.”

She started gently caressing his face while giving him baby talk, “Aww … you’re such a good servant. Good booyy.”

“You may be damn intelligent and capable, but you have to understand that you aren’t perfect.”

“Ah, yes, we already had this conversation before.”

“Fine! I’m not going to bitch and moan about your inflated ego. It’s like talking to a brick wall.”

They greeted the adventurers at the camp entrance and went straight for the dwarf’s tent. His tent was much larger than the rest, housing many different, large tools.

“By the way, didn’t you say the adventurers don’t need tents?” Eric asked when they’d reached the large tent.

“I did?” She asked while giving him an innocent look that didn’t suit her one bit.

“Yes. I think we were arguing about privacy in the adventurers’ camp, and you said they don’t need any of it.”

“That’s right, they don’t. Look around, and tell me how many tents you see.”

“Here’s one right here,” Eric pointed at the tent in front of them with a move of his head.

“That’s to help the dwarf focus on his work. Seeing the people walking around would distract him.”

“They’ve also placed me in a tent as soon as I came,” Eric continued.

“That’s because you were a prisoner. They didn’t want you to see what they were doing. Tell me, how many private tents do you see in this camp? Because I only see three tents in total.”

“Ok, fine. I’m not trying to argue.”

Phisola gave him a nod before pulling the curtain at the entrance to the side.

“Good sir,” She said in a tongue Eric couldn’t understand as soon as she had entered the tent, “we brought you some more wood, as you asked.”

“Ah, yes, yes,” the dwarf responded, without moving his eyes away from his work, “Just put it at the usual place.”

She motioned to Eric to empty the cart as she approached the dwarf, “So, how is your work coming along?”

“Yes, yes, it’s comin’ along nicely.”

“Hmm …” She stood right next to him, “and when do you think it will be ready?”

“In a few weeks.”

“Few weeks? Hmm …” She focused him with her gaze while leaning in towards him, “I know you dwarves hate it when someone says it, but you do realize we just need the thing to be as simple as possible, right?”

“Of course! I’m not makin’ this thing to put it on display!”

“In that case, why are you carving out this decorative ornament right now? How will it help it serve the function?”

The dwarf stopped working to turn his head towards Phisola, only now realizing that her face was right in front of his. He didn’t bother hiding the look of frustration on his face, “First of all, decorations and ornaments are two different things.”

“Perhaps, but you dwarves love beautifying your craft so much, and you love adding everything you can, to the point even your ornaments are decorated.”

“It’s not our fault the other races lack a sense of aesthetics.”

“I have nothing against your aesthetics, until they start being impractical. I would love to have an impressively decorated cauldron, but I’d much rather leave this cave as soon as possible.”

“An’ you think I’m takin’ my time just because I want to beautify it a little bit?”

“Carving out intricate decorations in your woodwork is much more than beautifying it a little bit.”

The dwarf stared her in the eye for a moment before continuing, “These aren’t just some decorations. These are runes …”

“While these may look like runes, these are …” she pulled back a little bit and started moving her eyes left to right as she tried to remember, “… hmm … I forgot what the word is. It exists only in dwarven tongue. Something like inspiration but specific to dwarves.”

The dwarf’s eyes opened a little bit wider, but his face remained frustrated, “What you’re referring to is a state of mind, not what I’m carvin’ out right now.”

“No, no, the state of mind you’re mentioning is a completely different word. Yes, that one is also unique to the dwarven tongue, but I was never really good at learning it. Your tongue is far more complicated than the common one.”

“I am carvin’ runes because …”

“No, you’re not carvin’ runes.”

The dwarf dropped his tools to the ground, putting his hands on his hips, “Now listen here, you butt-naked lass! I’m not tellin’ you how to cook with your cauldron, am I?”

“And I’m not telling you how to build things. I’m just letting you know that I know what you’re doing. And I also know why it helps you. I know it clears your mind and helps you with the creation process. But we don’t have time for that right now.”

“An’ who told you this helps me personally? Did you ‘ave a conversation with a dead dwarf or something’, you witch?” The dwarf said in an overtly mocking tone.

“No, I had conversations with live dwarves.”

“In that case, whoever told you that took you for a ride. You’re speakin’ complete nonsense!”

“I know what I’m talking about because I used to be maralmizi.”