[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/P7Vw9Fz.png[/img][/center] [hider=A Dance with Dwarfgons and Minus Being a Callous Dick] A short post about a couple of dwarves that have a drinking contest. One wagers that if he wins, he gets to marry the other one. The other dwarf defers what she gets if she wins until afterwards. The male dwarf is trounced in the drinking contest and a strange sequence occurs where the female dwarf dares him to danced in a similar fashion to the previous Minus post with Lazarus' old body over the lake. Things appear to end happily with all the dwarves drinking and dancing into the night. The man and woman dwarf begin to walk out together to find a bed to sleep in, still thoroughly bluttered. But, in a sudden twist, the male dwarf reveals himself to be Minus in disguise. Minus says it was only in it for the dance, that it has to leave and cover its tracks, and kills the female dwarf, staging it to look like both the male and female dwarf broke their necks falling down a staircase. Minus had been ordered to return to Cornerstone by then, but it was then ordered by Toun on its flight back to instead go to [b]Xerxes[/b] with Majus and stake out the place without interfering in the building powderkeg. No might used. Just a fluff post with Minus character tidbits, really. [/hider] [colour=PaleGoldenrod][b]The demigods can be watched with the birds, Minus. It is time you returned to Cornerstone.[/b][/colour] [colour=PaleGoldenrod][i]...[/i][/colour] [colour=PaleGoldenrod][b]Is there something preventing you from returning?[/b][/colour] [hr] The work was never done in the home of the dwarves. They thrived on it. Every day, there were hard metallic strikes [i]pinging[/i] and [i]pinging[/i] in a rhythm against the walls. More space for the growing population. The familiar ring of picks sang out even in the ever-crowded, ever-burbling expanse of the communal dining hall. Rows of stone tables flanked by stone thrones seated carousing dwarves of all shapes and disciplines. They always drank -- it was a paradox of their physiology that the fungal ale they brewed was what kept them focussed and healthy. That did not preclude them from slurred speech, giddy personalities, and the occasional wrestle. Granted, too much ale would still render them intoxicated. Albeit, far more than what would kill most other living creatures. [colour=PaleGoldenrod][i]The routine repeats.[/i][/colour] One dwarf lass with straight black hair sat half-asleep with her chin in her hands, leaning her elbows on one of the tables. She had been carving stone all day; tools and furniture, mostly. Her fair-skinned hands were delicate as dwarves go, but the others saw her as a symptom of being blessed by the leaders -- the demigods. After all, none could quite shape stone so precisely as her. She was well sought after in the home. "Oi, [i]Mafie Snowhands![/i]" One of the dwarf men called out to the lass from down the table. "Ye look as'f you 'bout to fall dead! Come and 'ave a drink and I'll beat ye shapely backside easy in a contest! That'll have ye lookin' lively!" Mafie opened her eyes and cast the man and his group of friends a sly smile. Contests of the liver were something of a matter of pride amongst the stocky dwarves. When Mafie won her first contest without so much as swaying, she had since upheld a high standing as a strong drinker, even above most men in the mountain. None had yet expressed suspicion when she only afterwards began to show weakness in such contests. "Yer the big chug-dwarf under the mountain, now, aren't ye Asmel?" Mafie said, lowering her hands flat on the table and grinning. "Champion? Aye, yer riskin' big pride thinkin' ye can pu' me under the table!" "Och! That'd be easy." Asmel's teeth glinted from behind his lush orange beard. "We play fer wagers," he growled and stabbed a finger at his wide chest. "I wun, and you be me wife." Mafie's widening smile and narrowing eyes looked Asmel up and down as her head slowly tilted. There were few enough things to bet under the mountain. Courtship was becoming a popular alternative in the medium of gambling. "What if I wun, you clevur git?" Asmel extended a hand upwards and nodded. "Name yer price, snowflaeke." His words held a mocking congeniality. A haunting laugh permeated the hall, causing the chatter immediately surrounding to fade. Mafie breathed and continued to laugh as she stood up onto the table and spread her arms. "That were yer first mistaeke, Asmel." She walked with long strides, landing her feet between the plates and steins without looking, despite apparently using her arms to keep her balance. When Mafie reached the seat opposite Asmel, she leapt and twisted in the air, landing on the stone throne with a fabric thud. The winter clothing was good for cushioning falls. "How about I choose what I make you do [i]after[/i] I wun?" Mafie said over her poked out bottom lip. She leant her forearm against the table, leaning forward at Asmel's widening eyes. Everyone was watching. Waiting. No one had been able to win Mafie into marrying them before. This would be the fifth attempt. "Done." Asmel slammed his favourite mug onto the table between them. Mafie leant back to unbuckle the mug on her belt and slammed it down in turn. [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_FQ4bRdWyjw]"Then yer on, bear shite!"[/url] [hr] [colour=PaleGoldenrod][i]There is one more lead of investigation I must follow regarding the demigods. It will not take longer than thirty-six hours.[/i][/colour] [colour=PaleGoldenrod][b]Act as you see fit. Update me after thirty-six hours or earlier and then return to Cornerstone.[/b][/colour] [hr] "Igan...I-gan-'ave anoder..." "Asmel. Asmel?" He reached up and realised he was against a wall. "Gemme'up. Igan Still drink!" "Gerrup, Asmel!" Delicate fingers grabbed his hand and he felt a wrenching sensation. Asmel felt the wall fall away as he turned sideways. He peeked his eyes open and realised that the wall had been the floor and he was falling over the other way towards it. He was caught by the blurry black and white shape in front of him. He focussed his eyes on seeing Mafie Snowhands, in double. Her hands were in his. Everyone else was watching, some chuckling. "Siddown a moment, ye great lout!" "Huh?" Asmel flopped backwards and landed in a seat. At least he was still in the dining hall. "I los'?" he slurred at no one in particular. Mafie walked back a pace. "Aye, now it be time to pay fer yer mistaeke, Asmel. Just follow along." Mafie spun on her heel and pointed to the occupants of another table. "All'a you!" She clapped, clapped, clapped, clapped. "As I said before!" The dwarves thumped their mugs on the table in unison with Mafie's continued clapping. Mafie grinned with satisfaction and turned to another table, clapping a different skipping rhythm. The other table used their mugs to replicate. The thundering beat permeated the hall. The ever-present pick axe strikes were finally drowned out by the beating heart of the mountain, channelled through the stone and clay mugs of dwarves. Mafie beamed and opened her arms, her eyes drooping as she took in the music. She instructed one last table with a rhythm, off the beat of the first two, establishing a song that made her lightly step in place to it. Her eyes found Asmel after her light steps edged around to face him. "Whadid'ye...? Whass goin' on?" Asmel was fidgeting on his table in fear. Even if he could run, he was still too drunk. "Whaddid'ye do to everyone!" Mafie bent her knees slightly and lowered her arms. Her head was angled forward, daring Asmel. "Go on, see if ye can catch me!" She shouted over the thundering mugs. She thumped her chest and beckoned. "Come on! Ye wanted a wife! Catch one!" Whether it was the drink or whatever effect was influencing everyone else in the room, Asmel felt his previous intentions become amplified with the regular drumming. He clasped both his hairy hands onto the sides of his chair and pushed himself until he stood. He took one uneasy stomp forward, then another. Asmel's eyes bored into Mafie and her grin. "Do it, you gaspin' trout!" She shouted. Asmel grit his teeth and launched forward, hands outstretched. He was barely able to move his legs fast enough to keep upright, sending him halting onto the side of a table, through the thin air that Mafie used to occupy. A bridge of laughter broke through the drumming mugs. Mafie's voice rang out behind him. "Not good enough, Asmel! Try again." Asmel pushed off the table and spun around. He launched himself in a similar manner, with similar consequences. He stood up, tried again. Stood up, tried again. The blue welts forming on his head and torso did not stop him. Mafie's voice took a turn for the sympathetic after the tenth time. Or the eleventh -- he had lost count. "Yer tryin' too hard, Asmel," she said, this time placing a hand on his back as he struggled to return to his feet. The mugs still thundered on around them, yet he could hear her perfectly. "Look, ye see me like some challenge, some preize. I ain't all I'm chiselled out to be, a'right? Don't think I'm all that." Asmel turned his head around, throwing a confused and defeated look through his black eye. "Look, promise ye'll treat me like a dwarf and a friend and we can 'ave a dance, then I'll decide whether I wannae pu' up with ye for the rest of me life." Mafie worried her brow and smiled. "Would that be a'right with you?" The broad body under Mafie's hand shrunk as Asmel exhaled. After a moment closing his eyes, he nodded and stood up to his feet, before offering a bruised hand to Mafie. "Care fer a dance, Mafie?" Mafie's actions were her answer. She beamed and took Asmel's hand, pulling him into a spin. She laughed as Asmel twisted his face in an awkward effort to keep balance. They slowed to a rhythm with the ever-thundering mugs, but they were not the only ones dancing. Around Mafie and Asmel, many other dwarves had taken partners to spin and step and leap with the drumming stone. They danced to exhaustion, drunk on ale and thrill. [hr] [colour=PaleGoldenrod][b]What is your assessment of the demigods' servant race?[/b][/colour] [colour=PaleGoldenrod][i]The dwarves are industrious, yet they take after some of Slough's propensities to a greater degree than the hain. However, their dependency on ethanol in their diets makes them unreliable and at the same time dependent.[/i][/colour] [hr] Mafie and Asmel stumbled out of the dining hall in each other's arms, still cackling at a half-baked joke made ten minutes earlier. They staggered through the dark halls in search of their beds with hardly an understandable word emerging from their drunken mouths. They were about halfway there before Mafie even chose to speak up seriously. "Asmel, yer not a bad dancer for havin' lost a drinkin' contest, ehheheh..." "And yer not a bad drinker for..." He pulled his chin back to silence a belch. "Havin' two left feet." "Don't go givin' yerself too much credit now, ye still step like a fish," Mafie laughed. Asmel joined in as that next laugh set them off for another long while of walking. Mafie pushed up closer against Asmel and sighed. Her contented smile was contagious. "Do ye really want to marry me, Asmel?" Asmel's grin faded, joining his moustache with his beard once more. "Actually, Mafie, I just wanted to see what it was like." Mafie's face scrunched up incredulously. "You dirty dog. To see what [i]what[/i] was like?" She looked up at Asmel and her face darkened. Her eyes widened at the creature she was holding. The surface she was holding became cold against her fingers, causing her to gasp and step back. The lean, armoured figure stood taller than Mafie, though it was thinner than any dwarf. She thought that it might have been a demigod. She hadn't seen or heard of this one before. It was white clay, plated, lithe. The soft rattle of chains brought her attention to the flail-like weights snaking around him...her...it. It was impossible to know. It wasn't Asmel. Minus looked down on Mafie's shocked silence, just in time for her to fall backwards onto a seat on the floor. [colour=PaleGoldenrod][i]"To see what it was like to dance with another,"[/i][/colour] the gentle voice had the texture of custard. Sweet and smooth. The chains snaked forward with a mind of their own, shooting around Mafie's legs and neck. She tried to scream, but the chain around her neck tightened. She could not even breathe. [colour=PaleGoldenrod][i]"Thank you, dwarf Mafie Snowhands for this favour. I must cover my tracks now."[/i][/colour] Mafie struggled against the chains now wrapping around her entire body as she was lifted from the ground. Her eyes beaded with tears as they rolled backwards. [colour=PaleGoldenrod][i]"Asmel never existed. You were very nice to him."[/i][/colour] Mafie squeaked something, mouthing words that could not be given strength. It was pleading. Pleading that her crying eyes were expressing to greater effect. [colour=PaleGoldenrod][i]"Goodbye."[/i][/colour] Mafie's black hair flew in a twist and a bony set of cracks sounded. Her body went limp with her hair. Minus had its chains so entwined that it could feel her soft soul exit her body. Like a discarded doll, Minus unrolled Mafie's body over a staircase next to them, letting its chains retract back into its arms. Mafie lifelessly tumbled to the bottom of the flight, landing in a twisted pose. Her dead eyes were frozen open. In the silent hall, Minus summoned forth its spinning clay wheel from the floor. A body replicating the form of Asmel was shaped, with a broken neck added to his now lifeless form. Minus tossed the corpse over the stairs in the same manner as Mafie's body. It then walked to the exit on clinking clay sabatons. [hr] [colour=PaleGoldenrod][b]What did your lead find, Minus?[/b][/colour] [colour=PaleGoldenrod][i]It was inconsequential.[/i][/colour] [hr] The rushing expanse of ice below Minus repeated onwards to the horizon as it flew back north. The dwarves would have found the bodies by now. It would be marked with sadness and tragedy. Minus only bowed its head, flicking it every now and then. It spotted the rare wildlife of the tundra. [colour=PaleGoldenrod][i]They were weak. The best of them would not have survived the dance.[/i][/colour] The idle journey drove Minus to extend one chain low enough to the ice to have it bounce and make marks through the snow. It served no purpose to do so. It simply preferred to see what marks would be made instead of thinking of the previous failure. [colour=PaleGoldenrod][i]A quick death. She was in love, not in pain. Simple creature.[/i][/colour] Minus' head perked up suddenly. It banked to alter its course with the latest message from Toun. [hr] [colour=PaleGoldenrod][b]Alter your flight. You will now meet with Majus outside of Xerxes.[/b][/colour] [colour=PaleGoldenrod][i]At once, father. What shall we do when we arrive?[/i][/colour] [colour=PaleGoldenrod][b]Observe. Do not interfere unless I order you to.[/b][/colour] [colour=PaleGoldenrod][i]Understood.[/i][/colour]