Next please…

My current work in progress is based around the characters below. Here’s a snifter of a stand alone short.


 

“Let me get this straight…”

The Minion’s fingers wriggled.

“…Grazduk. How many have you slaughtered over the years?”

The orc began to count on his fingers but gave up after two. “Lotz, Boss.”

“Yes, lots. Yet you’re complaining about a dwarf making faces at you?”

“Boss, ‘e’z ‘orrid an’ creepy.”

The Dark Lord took in a face that looked like it had launched a thousand ships, one after each other and with gusto. He sighed. “Norman, bring him in.”

He sat back back on his throne. These audiences were an attempt to get to know his horde a little better, show a more personable side. Apparently other rulers were lauded and loved for doing the same. The Dark Lord had rapidly concluded it to be a thorough pain in the rear.

The floor shook, heralding Norman’s approach, the troll unceremoniously dumping a dwarf before the throne.

“Now…”

The Minion’s fingers flicked.

“…Burgon. Apparently you’ve been leering at orcs.”

“I haven’t,” said Burgon.

“Boss, ‘e hazn’t,” agreed Grazduk. “Izn’t ‘im.”

“Sorry, you’re saying that this isn’t the dwarf?”

“Nah, Boss. Da dwarv ‘ad a weird puckered eye dat dint blink.”

“Norman?”

The troll tectonically frowned, forehead plates creating mountainous eyebrows. “He’s the only dwarf in the castle.”

Burgon snickered.

“You finding this funny?”

“No, my Dark Lord.” The dwarf coughed a laugh into his hand, grimacing hard to keep a straight face.”

“Have you got another dwarf staying with you? One with an unblinking, weirdly puckered eye?”

The dwarf snorted out a guffaw.

“Norman, if you please?”

The troll picked up Burgon by the trews and gave him a gentle shake. With a torrent of rips, the roughly stitched material gave way, dumping the dwarf on the floor, hairy bare backside up for all to see.

“Dat’z ‘im!”

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