©2009 Jordan Bourne
“Ugh! I cannot stand these lying, magic-wielding elves!” Thus did Thorim Hammerfist rant to himself as he restlessly marched the length of his six-by-eight paces cell. He could not remember how the elves had captured him, but the only way they could have possibly taken him alive was by using their devious magic. There were few dwarves from the Iron Cliff clan who could wield a battle axe as he did. Still fewer could boast falling head first down into the rock-strewn defile known as Knock-Out Slide and immediately arise still conscious at the end of the experience.
Momentarily forgetting his trouble, he grinned widely and thought of all his kin who were proud of his accomplishments and battle worthiness. Many younger dwarves aspired to be just like him. But then, he focused on the bars and snapped back into his present predicament. Though the fire of his wrath had somewhat cooled by the fleeting pleasant thoughts, he still needed to make someone pay for this dirty deed! His confinement was such an offense that he would need his whole clan to rightly carry the grudge until gold be paid or vengeance be well-visited upon his captors.
Thinking back over the last few days, Thorim began to grow very impatient, for though the elves had provided everything needed to sustain his life and relative comfort, they would NOT talk to him. Much less, they steadfastly ignored his every request and demand to tell why he had been captured and what they intended to do with him. Now he began to think differently. No, he would still behead them, after keeping them in cells half the size of his for at least twice as long, with little or no food and nothing but dirty water to drink; but, he now thought of a way out.
“Ahem! Guard!” said Thorim in a normal voice, something much less than a hate-filled roar, but still sounding awfully mean. “Yes?”, asked the elf. “It talks!”, Thorim continued, “I have a bargain for your leader. It involves the war. I am sure he will want to hear what I say.”
Soon, Thorim got his wish and Lethvalinel, an elf general, stood just outside the cell. “What do you have to tell me, dwarf?” Thorim motioned conspiratorially for the elf to come closer, saying, “It is for your ears only.” Lethvalinel did. With quickness worthy of the elves, Thorim reached through the bars, grabbed the captain’s long knife, and used the threat of killing the elf to force his own release.
After Thorim left, an elf mage explained to Lethvalinel, “Yes, it was necessary to have him threaten your life. By this means alone could we know that your brother is truly convinced that he is a dwarf. Here is a Ring of Remembering. Touch him with it, and he will remember who he really is and the outer illusion will vanish as well.”
How to Vote:
If you want to vote for this entry, you must click on the survey in the sidebar and answers the questions.