The road down the mountain from Warton.
Dwarven kingdom of Hasandri.
28th of Amsiel, Second month of Summer.
2290 years since the new gods came.
A magical gate opened on the side of the mountain, and a pair of individuals stepped through it. Max stared at the dark haired, milky skinned, petite young elven woman, then looked to her escort. Then the escort handed him a signed marriage contract.
She's the spitting image of someone I used to know... Anna! From school! I wonder how she's doing? Probably married with children by...shit. Max took another look at the young woman, then down at the contract...
“I, Maxwell Smithson, Heretic, hereby agree to marry Ms. Brianna Silverloch Goldhue under the following provisions:
1. There will be no Divorce, separation etc. This is 'Until final death do us part”.
2. We will Respect and Honor each other in all things. Even as things change in our lives.
3. We will communicate. Not just by yelling at each other, actual talking and Listening.
4. What is yours financially is yours after the wedding. What is mine financially is mine after the wedding. What we gain together after the wedding is shared in common. If we have children, they will inherit equally from our death(s), no playing favorites in this.
5. Dowry is not required, as I will pay the expenses to set up a household.
6. We will give each other space when requested.
7. We will not hold grudges, and will forgive each other in a reasonable amount of time.
8. I want NO PART in any titles, nobility, knighting, etc. None. Don't try it.
9. All “Inheritance” that would be due me, will instead pass to my wife. Even traditionally male roles and titles. I will start a war on my wife's behalf.
If you screw around, you will find out.
Groom Signature: Maxwell Smithson, Heretic
Groom's Witness: Brandywine, Daughter of Wine, Daughter of Spirits; Pixie
Bride Signature: Brianna Silverloch Goldhue
Bride's Witness: Lady Evangeline Silverloch Goldhue”
Yup, that's Anna's signature alright. Well, I stepped in it this time. She caught me good. Good on her! He looked at his bride to be, “So...tell me about yourself?”
- - -
29th of Amsiel,
I'm getting married...I don't know how I feel about this. My marriage contract was meant to be an insulting rebuttal to that horror of papers they sent me. Anna sure got me this time. I'm proud of her for getting to where she is today.
Bri is a nice girl woman. She's 53, has her head on fairly straight, and loves the idea of running around adventuring.
Our engagement party will be held in Gurakzar on the kings road, in 85 days. Her grandfather will be in attendance. I hope he has pulled his head out of his ass.
I have a lot of invitations to write myself, and I will have to have the mages guild send them “Overnight Express” so people have time to come...
31st of Amsiel,
Back in Warton. Invitations for the party have been sent. Bjorn and Sarah were obviously on the list, as were a few other people. Thankfully elves have a long engagement period of some thirty years, so we will have a good while to get to know each other.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Brandy has been snickering about the whole thing for a while now. Hope she likes wearing a suit, as I plan on having her as a groomsman. wearing a ballgown as a bridesmaid.
38th of Amsiel,
We are well on our way, 70 out of 820 miles. The road at this point is a little wider so that two wagons can pass each other. Some of the road passes through long tunnels, as opposed to hugging the mountainside. Most of a week has passed, and the response letters are coming in. Sarah's came on a one foot stone cube, she is coming. Bjorn's was on glowing paper. The rest are thankfully normal.
Brandy got a letter. She won't talk about it.
*-*-*
“My lord, bad news.” Vtev announced as he walked into the throne room. “Bjorn has found the loophole in the plan, and has managed to kill almost all of our agents and collaborators.”
“Unfortunate, but not unexpected. The gods do occasionally think before they act.” The Demon Lord replied. “How is our little friend the Heretic doing?”
“Engaged to an elven Lady.”
“Engaged? That and subsequent marriage were second to last on the list of expected actions, just before 'become a god'. Interesting.”
“How does that effect your plans?”
“Not much. It just gives us a chance at political and emotional 'leverage' over him.” The Demon Lord said. “Although after reading the old reports that mention him, they may not have a good outcome, so we will keep said leverage as a last resort.”
“Very good my lord.”
The demon lord cocked his head to one side then the other, Maybe I should attend this party...I will need a fine suit.
*-*-*
January 1899, Sponvika Norway
Magni Larssen, disgraced cobbler, stumbled from the bar just after closing time. He was drunk, homeless, penniless, and wifeless. He walked to the end of the town's longest pier. He walked out over the ice. He tried to walk on water. His wet clothes dragged him down to a watery grave.
-
Magni awoke in the sun. His clothes were dry and his folded jacket lay beneath his head. He stared at the blue sky and the puffy clouds that danced across it. He smiled. I must be in heaven. Even though I cheated on my wife, stole from the business, and was generally an ass, I Made It! Then he heard the screams. He sat up, and looked around. Just down the hillside that he hadn't previously noticed, there were a group of wagons along a narrow mountain road being attacked by...trolls? No, Dwarves, the men under the mountain. He started skulking down the hill.
At the bottom of the hillside, he lifted a dagger from one of the obvious bandits, and ran it through the dwarfs back at a slightly downwards angle. That was easier than I thought... He nodded to the dwarf that had almost died at the bandits hand, then threw the dagger into another bandits throat. This is too easy...
By this time the rest of the bandits had noticed him. “Kill the human!” Magni took off at a run, heading around the back of the nearest wagon, and coming to a stop. When the first bandit came around, he kicked their leg out from under them, and bolted. The fallen dwarf caused a three dwarf pileup.
Passing the lead wagon, Magni grabbed a convenient length of rope that was just hanging on a peg and begging to be taken. He rounded the oxen in front, and came to a stop in front of a very angry bandit.
“Drop the rope.” The bandit ordered, so he did, right over the bandits head, and pulled. The bandit went down. Magni bent over, right foot on the bandits head, borrowed his dagger, and pithed him in the base of the skull.
When the chasing bandits rounded the wagon, he had the newly acquired dagger at the bandit's throat, “Come any closer and this one gets it.”
The three chasers spread out, and one responded, “Go ahead. It just means tha---”
Magni threw the dagger, lodging it in the speakers throat. This is getting stranger and stranger. Shit, I'm out of weapons again! There was a twang from behind him, and then another, and the two remaining bandits dropped. Magni slowly stood to his full height, and raised his empty hands before turning around.
-
“So, yer from another world, huh?” Caravan Master Gull said more than asked. “We get a few of you upon occasion.”
Magni sat on an uncomfortably small stool as one of several people around a fire pit at some sort of weigh station along the mountain road. Gull continued, “Usually the gods are more convenient than this, but it was fortunate for us that you came by when you did. We might have lost more lives if not for you.”
“Um...You're welcome.” Magni's mind was ablaze with the wonders he had discovered, and a stupid piece of paper kept shoving it's way into his vision, and he waved it away.
“What are you waving at?” Gull began nervously looking around, “Are there ghosts here?”
“No. There is this phantom piece of paper floating in my vision. I'm trying to get rid of it.”
“Oh, the gods gift.” Gull returned his attention to the large human. “I've been told it is the way the gods talk to the chosen ones. You may want to look at it.”
Magni did as he was told.
*-*-*
43rd of Amsiel,
Met a caravan on the road. The last Hero was on it. A beast of a man, makes me look like a dwarf in height, and he is built like the northern raiders of old. Strangely enough, he juggles and does sleight of hand tricks. Perhaps he will turn out like... No. I will not dredge up the past...
48th of Amsiel,
Magni's a thief and an acrobat. At least he gives stuff back, unlike some fairies pixies I know. Bri has been good company on this trip, and we seem to be becoming friends. I seem to have forgotten how nice female company can be.
49th of Amsiel,
First argument. Campfire cooking. Meh. Magni is settling in nicely with the other two. He laughs easily, and holds his liquor well. He does seem a bit haunted, but that isn't really my business, unless it becomes my business.