Post by Grumbaki on Jan 12, 2006 17:42:00 GMT -5
The caravan limped it's way to Kazad Dawr. Sven was now sitting in the first caravan along with the merchant, as it would be he who would request admission to the hold. He was in a horrible mood as he thought about the goblin attack. He was halfway through a rant directed at Sven when they reached the hold.
"...on their own d**ned road! Their quarry was but two miles away and we get ambushed like that. By Sigmar's hammer, I'll have them pay for the loss of my guards. Ten crowns a piece, four dead and two of them in worse shape than you. And you, wandering off when I could have been killed, why..."
Sven wasn't listening to any of this. He was sitting down with his legs dangling off the wagon, looking at a book he had found lying around. He couldn't read a single word of it, but there were plenty of pictures and he was happily making up his own story to go along with them. He was to the part in the story where Sigmar beat back a horde of Skaven with the jawbone of an ox. Sven was busy wondering how the jawbone didn't break when the merchant grabbed the book out of his hands.
"...and why the hell are you reading my prayer book?!"
Sven looked up at him as if he han't realised that he was there. "I like the pictures."
The merchant's jaw dropped as he heard this as he looked at Sven with exasperation. He took a deep breath and sighed as the wagon came to a halt.
"Thank Sigmar, we're here! Come on!"
He jumped down off the wagon, and Sven followed him, grunting in pain as his injured leg hit the ground.
The merchant walked up to the gate keeper with a gruff look on his face.
"Open the gates."
The gate keeper looked at him with a scowl.
"Excuse me, manling? Did I hear ye right? Did ye demand something o' me?"
"I don't have time for this. I've been here three times before, I know the drill. May your beard grow long and may your clan prosper. Now open the gate."
"I don't like ye tone o' voice. Ye are not getting in, manling."
"Listen, I've got injured men in here who need medical attention. I don't have time for this, open the gates."
"Not my problem. I'm not letting a manling as rude as ye in."
"Your joking, you must be. Listen, I could just go down to that new town, sell my goods there and buy what I need. But, I'd rather go here and buy what I need directly from you. You can't afford to let business slip by."
"Aye, we can. Now, are ye going to apologize?"
"Apologize? For what, wanting to come in! Your as bad as Sven! I come all the way from Wisenland, again to see you my goods. I get ambushed on your roads, and now when I get here, you refuse to let me in. If you let me in now, I'll forget that this ever happened and I won't report this to your superiors."
"Oh, so ye are threatening me now?"
"What? Of course not, I just said-"
"Ye threatened me."
And thus it went on. Sven stood there next to the merchant, looking around absentmindly. He looked at the gates feeling homesick. He suddenly wanted to get in with all of his heart, to be back within a hold full of dwarfs.
"...fine, you d**ned stunty! I'll take my business to Yetzinburg! Come on Sven, we're leaving."
Sven looked at the merchant, and then back at the hold. He was pulled between the siren song of gold and the desire to be back in a dwarven hold.
"I said come on! You do want to get paid, don't you?"
With a sight Sven turned around and followed the merchant back to the wagons. Already there were turning around to head towards Winter's Teeth Pass. All of the men were grumbling as they got ready to leave, but none of them felt as dissapointed as Sven.
"...on their own d**ned road! Their quarry was but two miles away and we get ambushed like that. By Sigmar's hammer, I'll have them pay for the loss of my guards. Ten crowns a piece, four dead and two of them in worse shape than you. And you, wandering off when I could have been killed, why..."
Sven wasn't listening to any of this. He was sitting down with his legs dangling off the wagon, looking at a book he had found lying around. He couldn't read a single word of it, but there were plenty of pictures and he was happily making up his own story to go along with them. He was to the part in the story where Sigmar beat back a horde of Skaven with the jawbone of an ox. Sven was busy wondering how the jawbone didn't break when the merchant grabbed the book out of his hands.
"...and why the hell are you reading my prayer book?!"
Sven looked up at him as if he han't realised that he was there. "I like the pictures."
The merchant's jaw dropped as he heard this as he looked at Sven with exasperation. He took a deep breath and sighed as the wagon came to a halt.
"Thank Sigmar, we're here! Come on!"
He jumped down off the wagon, and Sven followed him, grunting in pain as his injured leg hit the ground.
The merchant walked up to the gate keeper with a gruff look on his face.
"Open the gates."
The gate keeper looked at him with a scowl.
"Excuse me, manling? Did I hear ye right? Did ye demand something o' me?"
"I don't have time for this. I've been here three times before, I know the drill. May your beard grow long and may your clan prosper. Now open the gate."
"I don't like ye tone o' voice. Ye are not getting in, manling."
"Listen, I've got injured men in here who need medical attention. I don't have time for this, open the gates."
"Not my problem. I'm not letting a manling as rude as ye in."
"Your joking, you must be. Listen, I could just go down to that new town, sell my goods there and buy what I need. But, I'd rather go here and buy what I need directly from you. You can't afford to let business slip by."
"Aye, we can. Now, are ye going to apologize?"
"Apologize? For what, wanting to come in! Your as bad as Sven! I come all the way from Wisenland, again to see you my goods. I get ambushed on your roads, and now when I get here, you refuse to let me in. If you let me in now, I'll forget that this ever happened and I won't report this to your superiors."
"Oh, so ye are threatening me now?"
"What? Of course not, I just said-"
"Ye threatened me."
And thus it went on. Sven stood there next to the merchant, looking around absentmindly. He looked at the gates feeling homesick. He suddenly wanted to get in with all of his heart, to be back within a hold full of dwarfs.
"...fine, you d**ned stunty! I'll take my business to Yetzinburg! Come on Sven, we're leaving."
Sven looked at the merchant, and then back at the hold. He was pulled between the siren song of gold and the desire to be back in a dwarven hold.
"I said come on! You do want to get paid, don't you?"
With a sight Sven turned around and followed the merchant back to the wagons. Already there were turning around to head towards Winter's Teeth Pass. All of the men were grumbling as they got ready to leave, but none of them felt as dissapointed as Sven.
