Zwarves

Hi! It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything on this glorious blog. And since I’m pretty damn sure that no one has missed me, I’m not apologizing for neglecting the wonderful world of writing.

I remember being very ambitious when I started this blog – like you couldn’t tell from the blog’s title, eh?- to the point where I was reluctant to share any stories, or draft of stories, that I wrote. Because I didn’t want to spoil my precious ideas when the time comes to publish them and make loads of money.

 

Well, this is no longer the case. It’s not that I’ve given up on ever publishing a novel someday. But I just don’t feel overprotective as I used to be. I just want to write, and share my writings.

When I signed in the dashboard today, I found several drafts that I didn’t want to publish. Bellow you’ll find one of these drafts. I’ll continue to publish other drafts, continue writing other stories that I didn’t complete, and hopefully continue to write new stories.

 

 

 

A story about a guy who gets transported to a fantasy world through reading a book. And it turns out later that other people form the real world have been transported as well. Maybe even some historical figures (Like Napoleon) . And we read about our hero’s adventures in this strange land. The story has action, comedy, and adventure.

 

I  was walking down the merchant’s road, which cuts through Blindman’s Forest. It has been almost a week since I’ve seen another person. That was a relief, actually, since every encounter I’ve had in the last month has ended violently. Bandits, bounty hunters, and Zwarves populated the roads now.

I didn’t mind the bandits, nor the bounty hunters. Actually,  I enjoyed my little skirmishes with them, good sport. But I prayed that I never encounter another zwarf in my lifetime, although I knew this was not possible; those tiny-flesh-eating, earth-digging bastards are a nightmare to fight, or run from. You almost never face a zwarf who’s not accompanied by at least five of his kin. And if you do find one standing alone, you better turn around and start running, for you are surely being ambushed.

I’ve learned along time ago not to test my various skills on these tiny devils, since every time I try something new, they surprise me with how they react to it. One time I tried a fire spell. It didn’t affect zwarf, only made it more agile, and really, really pissed. Another time I tried an illusionary spell. I made myself look like a giant Orc with devilish eyes. The zwarf screamed. I thought my spell had worked. Turns out, he was calling more zwarves to attack the giant beast. I had a lot of running to do that day.

To me, they are technically zombies, dwarves risen from the dead. But these short monsters differed from the traditional zombies in many aspects. For one, they could talk, and they talked a lot. In fact, I didn’t fear any sneak attack from them. Even if, by any chance, a zwarf was alone, he would talk or sing to himself. One time, I witnessed a dwarven corpse as it rose into zwarfhood. The first thing it said as soon as it stood on its feet was, “Damn you Vidrum, you filthy whore!” And then it spat, and three of its teeth dropped onto the dirt, “Balls!” it cursed. Then it saw me. And I had to run. The rest is still blurry to me.

After following the road up and down a small hill, I was able to see the lights of Grintonshire through the thinning forest. And it wasn’t long before I was passing some of the small houses and workshops that were scattered on its outskirts. The night was quite in this town, but I could hear voices and sounds of movements emanating from some of the houses. And as I strolled deeper into town, I could hear the loud cheers and laughter of drunk men and dwarves, the clinking sounds of glassy mugs, and the occasional, and admittedly arousing, moanings of elvish whores. Yup, I was closing in on a fantastic bar, or tavern.

I braced myself when I read “Mania’s Bottom” on the withered sign; I didn’t know if Mania was dude or a chick. I wondered if he, or she, was actually inside the tavern, and if the word “Bottom” had any literal presentation inside the pup. I grabbed the door knob, took a deep breath, and barged inside.

It should have been bottoms

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