Is today's prompt inspired by looking at comments and wondering when you'll be able to find time to read them? ;-)
Daunting Sir Frederic, Paladin of the Holy Church, Defender of the Several Faiths and Lord of Three Manors River stood on the rocky ledge that someone had hewn into a balcony of sorts, and looked down into the cavern below. Cold air tickled the back of his neck and lifted the ends of his chestnut brown hair, and a smell of ice and snow was carried on it. His armour, magically lightened plate mail, was keeping his torso toastily warm, and his boots were lined with sheepskin (and smelled like it), but his gloves hung at his belt and his fingers were almost numb. "This isn't what I expected," he said. Behind him the Dragonborn mage Hakkaara sighed, and to his left, sitting on the parapet as though they weren't fifty metres above a Schattenalf encampment, was the sorceror Ptus. "Schattenalfen," said Ptus, "have good lawyers. You're not going to be able to issue an eviction notice, and it looks like they've been here a while. If I were you I'd send a couple of lawyers in to offer them free passage through Three Rivers Manor with a hint that if they stop you'll do something about it." "Three Manors River," said Fred. "I sent the Bard down to parlay already." "Alf?" Hakkaara giggled. "He thinks he speaks better than he does." "He used to speak better before you took the nickname Silvertongue literally," said Ptus. "He also used to be able to eat better." "Well that's moot anyway," said Fred. He pointed to a cookfire. "That's him being roasted. Which is a reply of sorts, only they don't know we're down here yet." "Daunting," said Ptus as casually as he was lounging. "You shouldn't take that sitting down, you know." Fred sighed again. "I know," he said. "That's why we're here. I want you two to send a message, something to let them know that my messengers are not food. Fireball them, please." Hakkaara looked at Ptus, who looked levelly back at her. "Well," she said. "Fireball. I like Anax's Glorious Ball of Flame, but it's quite a lot more showy than damaging. Perhaps three of them, staggered timing?" Ptus shook his head. "Anax is fine for amateurs," he said, ignoring Hakkaara's sour twist of her mouth, "but I think a simple Eldritch Boom had a directness that can't be misinterpreted." "Yes but you're a sorceror," said Hakkaara, "and all you guys ever do is throw Eldritch Boom around. It's like you have a hammer and view everything as a nail. If I wanted direct and meaningful then I'd probably pick Junander's L'implosion du feu." "A spell's no good if you mispronounce half the words every third attempt. Eldritch Boom is two words and a hand gesture." "A rather rude hand gesture," said Hakkaara. "And the fit of giggles you get before casting it rather signals what you're up to. Perhaps a Ground Zero with maximal shockwave? I think I have some hensbane in my bag, that would give it a nice purple colour." "If Eldritch Boom is so crass," said Ptus, drawing out the "so" as long as he could on one breath, "perhaps try Crather's Explosion of Joy. That has a floral finish that no other spell achieves." "It is rather lovely," said Hakkaara, sounding contemplative. "And that makes me think of Floriander's Miraculous Overcooking." "Hah! Well, not really in good taste given what's happened to Alf," said Ptus, "but the irony is delicious!" "Just fireball them already!" yelled Fred.
Greg - hah! Look at me, all caught up again on comments :P
No, by the way. Just a word that popped into my head the other day. Can't remember what I was thinking of, but I suspect it had something to do with the boys.
I think the fireball debate might be my favorite thing you've written in a long while. Delightful :D
2 comments:
Is today's prompt inspired by looking at comments and wondering when you'll be able to find time to read them? ;-)
Daunting
Sir Frederic, Paladin of the Holy Church, Defender of the Several Faiths and Lord of Three Manors River stood on the rocky ledge that someone had hewn into a balcony of sorts, and looked down into the cavern below. Cold air tickled the back of his neck and lifted the ends of his chestnut brown hair, and a smell of ice and snow was carried on it. His armour, magically lightened plate mail, was keeping his torso toastily warm, and his boots were lined with sheepskin (and smelled like it), but his gloves hung at his belt and his fingers were almost numb.
"This isn't what I expected," he said. Behind him the Dragonborn mage Hakkaara sighed, and to his left, sitting on the parapet as though they weren't fifty metres above a Schattenalf encampment, was the sorceror Ptus.
"Schattenalfen," said Ptus, "have good lawyers. You're not going to be able to issue an eviction notice, and it looks like they've been here a while. If I were you I'd send a couple of lawyers in to offer them free passage through Three Rivers Manor with a hint that if they stop you'll do something about it."
"Three Manors River," said Fred. "I sent the Bard down to parlay already."
"Alf?" Hakkaara giggled. "He thinks he speaks better than he does."
"He used to speak better before you took the nickname Silvertongue literally," said Ptus. "He also used to be able to eat better."
"Well that's moot anyway," said Fred. He pointed to a cookfire. "That's him being roasted. Which is a reply of sorts, only they don't know we're down here yet."
"Daunting," said Ptus as casually as he was lounging. "You shouldn't take that sitting down, you know."
Fred sighed again. "I know," he said. "That's why we're here. I want you two to send a message, something to let them know that my messengers are not food. Fireball them, please."
Hakkaara looked at Ptus, who looked levelly back at her. "Well," she said. "Fireball. I like Anax's Glorious Ball of Flame, but it's quite a lot more showy than damaging. Perhaps three of them, staggered timing?"
Ptus shook his head. "Anax is fine for amateurs," he said, ignoring Hakkaara's sour twist of her mouth, "but I think a simple Eldritch Boom had a directness that can't be misinterpreted."
"Yes but you're a sorceror," said Hakkaara, "and all you guys ever do is throw Eldritch Boom around. It's like you have a hammer and view everything as a nail. If I wanted direct and meaningful then I'd probably pick Junander's L'implosion du feu."
"A spell's no good if you mispronounce half the words every third attempt. Eldritch Boom is two words and a hand gesture."
"A rather rude hand gesture," said Hakkaara. "And the fit of giggles you get before casting it rather signals what you're up to. Perhaps a Ground Zero with maximal shockwave? I think I have some hensbane in my bag, that would give it a nice purple colour."
"If Eldritch Boom is so crass," said Ptus, drawing out the "so" as long as he could on one breath, "perhaps try Crather's Explosion of Joy. That has a floral finish that no other spell achieves."
"It is rather lovely," said Hakkaara, sounding contemplative. "And that makes me think of Floriander's Miraculous Overcooking."
"Hah! Well, not really in good taste given what's happened to Alf," said Ptus, "but the irony is delicious!"
"Just fireball them already!" yelled Fred.
Greg - hah! Look at me, all caught up again on comments :P
No, by the way. Just a word that popped into my head the other day. Can't remember what I was thinking of, but I suspect it had something to do with the boys.
I think the fireball debate might be my favorite thing you've written in a long while. Delightful :D
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