Word of the Day: sternutation
It was a lumbering hulk of a castle, built completely of black stone. The plans where drawn up by thirteen crazed wizards and at times it seemed like there was no way to if a corridor went to a bed chamber or a crocodile pit. Also there seemed to be a distinct lack of washrooms. This meant it was always empty until an attack when monsters and guard magically appeared in random and unexpected places.
“Sir” Said the small hunchbacked Dwarf. “I have the information you asked for about the prophesised hero.”
The Evil villain rose his long black cape billowed in anticipation. His eyes crackled with power and the Dwarf was forced to look away.
The response, in contrast to his movements, came slowly anger boiling behind each word waiting for an excuse to bubble over. “Yes, Dwarf. What is it that you have learned.”
Dwarves shouldn’t squeak they are a proud race with deep voices but this Dwarf shamed his people by almost mimicking Mickey Mouse’s voice. “Sir, he shall pose no… no, threat to you.”
“That is for me to decide minion. Don’t insult me with your petty assumptions.” His composed voice rose in a contemptuous crescendo; the last word causing the walls themselves to shake.
Darting back and squeaking un-Dwarf-like once again he continued “Bu…But he is nothing master. A simple farm boy, with a rag tag group of friends. He is just lucky that he’s made it this far without killing himself.”
At the words “farm boy” the Villain jerked backwards his face contorted as if he was going to sneeze, but the sternutation never came and his face became more twisted in shock with every word.
“Sir…” the Dwarf stuttered before continuing, “his only advantage is that he wields his fathers sword”
The villain shuddered and sat back onto his throne. When he spoke again all power and strength had disappeared from his voice, “Is one of his companions not from around here? Were his adopted parents killed? Does he have a quirky talking animal sidekick?”
The Dwarf looked confused having never heard fear in his master’s voice before, “Yes Sir, to all your questions. But don’t worry Sir. I have good news. He’s been hurt. His wounds are most likely fatal and if he does survive he’ll be scarred for life.”
Now the villain looked three feet shorted and spoke slowly again but his words quivered in fear, “Scarred for life… Oh god it’s the end of the second act.” He got up running to his chambers he took out a large travelling chest and started to put anything around him into it.
The Dwarf watched him confused, finally working up the courage to ask, “Where are you going Sir?”
The Villain lifted the travelling chest and put a hand on the Dwarfs shoulder. “You’ve been a good lackey but I know when the full force or literary tripe is coming at me and I assume there must be other countries or worlds I can rule.”
Taking his black onyx crown off his head and placing it on that of the Dwarf’s, he said, “Good luck.” Before disappearing.