TAAAA TA-TA TAAAAAAA!

TU-RAAAAAAAAAAA!

The bright sound of a trumpet echoed around the hall of the Dwarf King under Thunderguard.

Clonk! Screeeee! Clonk….

Five hundred Dwarves, an Elf, an Orc and the most unlikely visitor, and Saviour, to the Dwarf Kingdom ever: a little Troll with a Fairy on his head, pushed their chairs back and stood to greet the King. The feasting tables were arranged in long parallel rows that filled the hall from end to end. They stood to acknowledge his arrival with genuine anticipation; The King of Thunderguard was well loved, and the room was well hungry.

“ALL STAND FOR KING JÂRED UNDER THUNDERGUARD” cried a herald loudly, uselessly, given everyone present was already on their feet.

The King walked in to a collective cry of

HOO! RA!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The sound of five hundred Dwarves yelling and five hundred knives beating on tables,

HOO! RA!

He walked to his seat, which was on the same table as Gob, not above them on a dias, though there was one. He raised his arms for silence, then called out, his voice booming around the great hall

“WE HAVE GREAT THINGS TO TALK ABOUT.

WE HAVE INCREDIBLE STORIES TO TELL.

WE HAVE UNUSUAL GUESTS TO INTRODUCE.

BUT WHO WOULD LISTEN TO WORDS SPOKEN OVER EMPTY STOMACHS THROUGH THIRSTY THROATS?

BRING ON THE MEAT AND ALE, WE'LL TALK LATER!"

Hundreds of Dwarves answered as one

HOO! RA!

Then the food and drink came, and oh how much food and drink there was. Gob had never seen such things in such volume. To his reckoning there wasn't this much food in the Realm, let alone all of it being here in front of him. He ate meat cooked in juice until it was so soft it was falling off the bone. He ate hot hearty chunky stew. He ate cooked birds filled up with smaller cooked birds filled up with chunky stuffing. He ate a pile of somethings that looked like logs but were also meat, Kylie called them sausages. Then he reached for his tankard of ale and Kylie discretely zapped him.

“Oh no. Nope. Not here. Definitely not here.”

The White Orc drank it for him.

The room was loud, the Dwarves animated eaters. There was no formality or place, and from time to time the Dwarves beside or opposite the guests would stand and move around to other tables, and others would replace them so that both company and conversation was lively and varied.

Some Dwarves came to thank them, some came to hear the story of the ethereal spider battle, recounted by Kylie over and over, becoming more vivid and exaggerated with every telling, to the loud cheers and raucous approval of all Dwarves in earshot. Some came to tell tales of their own, or sing songs or just see if the food over here was any better than the food over there.

Leőn ate bread, and looked bored. The King whispered to a serving Dwarf, and after a little while they brought out a goblet filled with red liquid. Leőn took it with a good natured smile and held it up in a ‘cheers’ of appreciation to the King, who returned the gesture with animation. When the King wasn't looking, he even sniffed it. Gob noticed when no one was looking, he even drank it.

It seemed an age of eating, until even Gob felt like he couldn't eat more. He was surprised at the extent to which the Dwarves could put food away. They were half the size of an adult Troll or less, but seemed to eat twice as much each. And that was saying something.

The King stood at last, and as he did the rowdiness of the hall petered off into a relaxed and satisfied silence. Bellies were full, and the Dwarves were now of a mind to listen.

“By now you’ve all heard the tale of our spider eating hero” he began.

“TROLLS’L EAT ANYTHING!” some Dwarf cried out.

“THREE CHEERS FOR GOB!” cried another followed by

HOO RAH!

HOO RAH!

HOO RAH!

The King continued “While you can all see he’s small, it seems he's big when it matters.”

“JUSH LIKE YOU YER MAJESHTY!” another Dwarf, slightly slurred, maybe having had one more ale than he needed.

Bawdy laughter echoed round the hall

“Just like any good Dwarf!” agreed the King with a grin before turning serious.

“We owe this one a debt of honour. He has rid us of a scourge on this Kingdom, but even more than that he has avenged our fallen and lost kin, which matters most to the Dwarves. We have had some of our warriors returned to us whole, though still recovering. Some are here...” He gestured across the table and three Dwarf Warriors stood weakly where they were, their once robust frames seemed to have been drained of life, but they had come to honour their rescuer and they bowed low before taking their seats again.

“But even those who have perished have been recovered. The bodies of our Kin who we thought lost forever to the darkness have been returned, so we can remember them in the proper way and commit their memories to the records of our people.”

There was silence as the weight of the kings words settled in the hall. Then he reached for his hammer that a guard nearby was holding for him. He held it high and brought its shaft smashing down on the stone floor with a

CHANK! Thruuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmm

Sparks flew when it hit the floor, and a low constant tone rang out filling the hall with resonant sound. Glowing orange runes lit up starting from the base, shooting straight up the shaft and then bursting across the head of the hammer. The light in the hall seemed to dim until only the the glow from the runes on the great hammer lit the walls and even the distant ceiling.

From the deep throats of some of the Dwarves came a hum to match the tone of the hammer. Then from other Dwarves over the top of the low hum, a higher hum rose up and then fell sharply, repeating its rise and fall, like the rhythmic strike of a miners pick. Then a third harmony swelled up from between them neither high or low, but loud and powerful, a tone that swung and spun and smashed against the walls of the hall like a warhammer.

Then came words over the resonance, words that Gob couldn't understand, but carrying stories that he could feel in the music, stories of depth and time, stories of deep grudges and heroic deeds and memories and honour and glory. When it eventually died down the hall was deep in reverie and respectful silence as they farewelled their Kin.

The King broke the silence as the light of the hall brightened again.

“Gob, we would like you to receive two things with our everlasting thanks” he gestured for Gob to stand up, which he did, reluctantly, after a sureptitious Zap! from Kylie.

"Our most accomplished MaterialWrights have been hard at work these last few days crafting something that we believe will honour your actions for us, while at the same time help you as you navigate whatever dangerous and fateful paths lie before you."

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Two burly Dwarves shuffled over with a large obviously heavy metal chest, carrying an end each. They placed it on the stone floor before the King, bowed, and opened it, revealing a plush red silk cushion. The King picked the cushion up with reverence. He held it aloft, turning in a circle so all in the hall could see it.

OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH....

Sounds of awe circulated around the room as he turned.

On the cushion was a little black lump. It looked like a thimble.

Gob had been expecting treasure. He didn't really know what to do, so he walked over to the King and squinted at the little thing. It was a small hollow cone, with, Gob had to admit on close inspection, some very intricate and interesting inscriptions. It also seemed to emit a sort of presence. It sort of pulsed. It sort of reminded him of the phase spider... tchiktchiktchik.

Gob's eyes shot wide open, he gasped in surprise and his tummy turned so hard he thought he was about to lose his entire dinner. He stumbled back.

"Too soon perhaps?" said the King, strangely looking to the White Orc.

"No, it should be now." The Orc replied, striding over to Gobs side, plucking the small lump from the cushion and holding it towards Gob. "Put this over the tip of your tusk," he growled, "the feeling should pass."

Gob reached out reluctantly and took the small cone from the Orc. Slowly he moved it towards his mouth. The closer it came the more Gob wanted to puke. His tummy wrenched. He saw stars and space and infinity. He forced it into his tusk quickly, and just like that the feeling passed.

GLERP!

Said his tummy loudly.

HOO RA!

Said the Dwarves as one.

Gob thought everyone in the room must know what it was even if he didn't. He checked.

EPIC gear:Tuskybite. Forged in Thunderguard from the remnant fang of Tsheek, the arachnid Queen of the ethereal plane, this tuskcap will violently obliterate anything it bites. Cooldown=(initiative-(skill:mightybite))

He had to admit that was pretty awesome. He could just bite stuff and it would be obliterated. Violently.

He looked at the King excitedly. "i try it!"

The King looked surprised and slightly unsure. Gob reached over the Dwarf next to him, to the middle of the table, and picked up a large roast ham hock. The White Orc took a step back. Kylie buried her face in her hands. Leőn looked excited, like he thought this was the best thing that had happened all evening.

The King looked at his MaterialWright, now with a worried expression. The Wright shrugged.

Gob bit into the ham hock. A surge of power and a throbbing black anti-glow flared through Gobs tusk. The inscriptions flashed a bright red, just before a torrent of energy erupted out of the point.

KER-SPLAT!

The ham hock exploded into a wet meaty mess that showered everyone in close proximity with lumps of obliterated ham.

There was a stunned silence.

"I SHINK I JUSHT SHAT ON SHUM HAM!" yelled the drunk guy.

Gob licked his lips. He decided to try some of his new diplomacy.

"fank yoo, mity king of da dwarfees. yor tuskybite workz very good."

Some patchy laughter and mumbles rippled around the hall. Kylie gave him a thumbs up and a wide, encouraging smile.

"dat ham hock didn stand a chans!"

This time he got better laughs and a few cheers. The King smiled.

"dis kingdum muz hav da finest matirial rites in da relm..."

He took off the tuskcap and held it up in the air, turning around so everyone could see it like the King had done before.

He got a few light 'HOO's'

"if yoo haz da corag..."

Some 'RA's'

"an da skilz..."

Some 'HOO RA's'

"to tern dat weerd spidas fang INTO DIS EPIC POWAFUL WEPON!"

HOO RA!

HOO RA!

HOO RA!

"Gob," said the King once the cheers had calmed down, "I don't think there's a Dwarf in this room who'd have ever thought they would owe anything to a Troll, but every Dwarf in this room owes you a debt they can't ever repay, and me the greatest debt of all. You gave me back my Kingdom. I would give you back one thing. Name it now, and it will be yours."

The White Orc looked stoic. Leőn's eyes lit up at the possibilities. Kylie, with pursed lips was furiously shaking her head from side to side and gesticulating, wildly drawing her finger across her throat to try and stop him from saying it.

"can i hav ze cont..." he looked at Kylie and grinned as he added "...pleez?"

The King looked like he had just swallowed a buffalo. His eyes went wide and his face went red.

"HOOSH A CONT?" yelled the drunk guy.

Suddenly with a booming voice the King shouted:

AND NOW IT'S TIME FOR DESSERT!

He raised his arms high, with a wide, forced smile, and a cheer went up from the tables as serving Dwarves started filing into the halls with more plates of food. This time, large platters of cheeses and fresh fruits, with pickled vegetables and candied jams, spiced sausages and thin slivers of cured meats, and pates and herb pastes and dukkahs and sweet yoghurts, and pastries and biscuits, and large kegs of sweet strong ales and malt whiskeys.

The King sat down heavily at the table with a

THUMP!

and started piling more food onto his plate, making sure not to make eye contact with anyone. He devoured his food with gusto, but his brain seemed to be somewhere else entirely.

Gob walked back to his seat and sat down again.

Kylie zapped him under the table and said nothing.

Leőn's face brightened when he saw the foods that were now being piled in front of them.

"Now they're bringing out the real feast!" he said to Gob with surprising animation. He talked Gob through a mouthwatering description of every morsel made of everything that was not meat. Gob appreciated the Elf trying to distract him from the awkward and confusing response the King had made to his awkward and unexpected request, but he couldn't help but keep looking back to the King to see what he would do or say next.

"Gob, hand me your flask" said the White Orc, "I'll refill it while we're here. You wont find better booze anywhere than than in the hall of the Dwarf King!" He walked over to one of the large barrels of Malt Whisky and placed the flask under the tap to fill it. He glanced around and when no one seemed to be looking the barrel disappeared into his inventory. He came back to the table with a satisfied grin.

"Give the King some space Gob" said Kylie, "you really dropped a bombshell on him. Just a small extra lesson in diplomacy for you: only ever say things the other person is expecting you to say."

"wot woz he espectin me to say?" Gob asked her, now slightly confused, "i use mannas! i sed pleez!"

"You did!" she said, "Except you only did to spite ME, which means it isn't manners."

Gob scowled. "i fort yoo sed i git mannas. i don git mannas anymor."

"The King was probably expecting you to say something like 'Oh no great King we have your hospitality and that is all we need' and then he could say something like 'Oh you are so honourable for a troll and we are forever at your service' and then we could all have had a nice friendly dessert, and the King wouldn't have had to work out how to answer all the difficult questions he's now going to get about why he handed over a vampire to a troll, or why he broke his word and didn't hand a vampire over to a troll. You've pushed him into a corner."

"iz good den!" said Gob, "we git ze cont!"

"There's a line, Gob," said Leőn, before Kylie could say anything she regretted, "between forcing an outcome and... persuading an outcome. It's a fine line sometimes, but it's a line worth learning how to weave around. Both can give you what you need, but sometimes one will give you far more than the other."

Gob was interested to learn more, but the great doors of the hall swung open and a Dwarf Warrior rushed in, heading directly for the King. He whispered urgently in his ear and gestured back through the doors.

The King stood immediately and gestured for Gob, Kylie, the White Orc and Leőn to follow him as he strode across to the opposite side of the hall, towards the set of doors that the serving Dwarves had been using all night to bring in and take out the piles of food for the feast. They opened at his approach, and he led them through into another long, square passage.

They passed by the Dwarf kitchens where hundreds of serving Dwarves and FeastWrights were busy about the work of fuelling the Dwarf Kingdom. There were enormous stone woodfires burning, with hogs and poultry spitting and dripping as they turned and roasted on spits. There were smaller gas fires contained under wrought iron grates covered with ornate pots and pans full of gravies and sauces and soups and stews. There were multi-level larders and coolrooms with moving ladders and pulleys for stacking provisions to the roof, and all was busy and frenetic and hot, and smelled delicious.

Past the kitchens were other functional rooms for wash up and storage and maintenance. Past those rooms the passage was quiet. There were barracks here, an armoury, a training hall, all deserted due to the Warriors mostly being at feast. Beyond the barracks the passage became considerably darker until they reached a guarded entrance. A sturdy Dwarf Warrior bowed to the King and unlocked the heavy steel door, which slid open silently revealing a darker series of rooms beyond. A prison.

The King said something to the guard in a low voice. The guard nodded and quickly moved off back up the passage. The King ushered them into the prison. It felt dark and foreboding. There were no metal bars enclosing the cells of the Dwarf prison. Instead, there were a series of gridded partitions of complex rune barriers rising from the floor to the ceiling that glowed an ominous dark red, the only light in the room. The White Orc and Leőn exchanged concerned looks.

The King hadn't spoken a word to them since they left the feasting hall. In fact he had been walking ahead of them so that they couldn't see his face. As he turned to them his expression was dark, lit now only by the faint red glow of the runes.

He looked more dangerous than Gob would have thought possible of the affable, fat, overdressed Dwarf. His voice was harder, and he spoke faster, more seriously. The affected jolliness had left him.

“I have a messenger at the front gates of my Kingdom requiring food and lodgings… and demanding my assistance locating a group of traitors of The Realm who are supposed to be passing through my mines. It's a retinue of Human soldiers with the written and signed support of the High Chancellor himself.

Gervais Stormbrow wants me to place you under arrest."