You glare at Jorri, the idiot dares to beam right back at you, his stump of an arm doing nothing to hinder his joy.
I will admit, I chortled. Good start to an update, Jorri's alive and his aura undiminished.
Snerra inherited her bright attitude from him, didn't she?
Drowning in success and he's complaining Master Yorri, can you believe him?" Jorri says, snorting in faux offence.
"Aye lad, absolutely shameful," Yorri says, nodding in agreement.
It truly is, because Snorri, the old goat, is not actually unhappy with this turn events but is instead...
But for all that you grumble and grunt about it, there is a part of you that is happy to see the rest of the Runesmiths guild is taking notice of the talent you saw in them.
A blasted, stone-blighted tsundere.
Ah master Yorri, your wazzock student still has a lot to learn from you.
Speaking of your other apprentice.
You cannot help but puff up with quiet pride.
The image of Snorri as a puffed-up big white pidgeon is stuck in my head.
In a feat quite similar to one of your own, young Dolgi saw fit to repay the Griffons of the newly christened "Drongkaraz," translated to Stormpeak, for saving him on multiple occasions by gifting them armour and weapons. Of course, Dolgi's been saved many a time, more than even you have realized, and consequently made very many suits of armour and Runic weapons for his rescuers. Enough that he personally made over a third of the total amount of equipment delivered to the Griffons of Drongkaraz.
Good lad.
Way to go, Dolgi! It's a worthy tradition to continue.
"By the by, I'll have your replacement arm done soon enough," you tell Jorri.
Hopefully after we have unlocked the rune of mind.
"Take yer time! Gives me time to hang about the grandchildren, regale them with stories about my valorous exploits!" Jorri replies with a chuckle.
"For their sake, I'll make it a rush job," you reply.
Ah, true brotherly affection.
Horrible really. It says a lot when giant naked mole rats are the nicest looking things that tunnel through the rock your folk have made a home in.
Not even a proper mole, with fur!
Shameful.
"You done contemplating the inherent ugliness of underground critters?" Yorri asks from the back of the wagon.
While Snorri's ramblings are point on, I do like Master Yorri's interventions.
He knows his former apprentice well, and knows just what to do to stop him from getting too wound about.
You pass a statue, the very one used to crush a bloodthirster underfoot with its fall actually. The stone boots remain, though the destroyed sections are replaced with a fine steel replica of Grimnir, the head of that very same daemon clutched in His hand, and the arm stretched out so that the head is like a great chandelier in the tunnel.
Your keen eye notes the telltale signs of machinery in the massive arm. Likely to make the giant steel daemon's head into an impromptu trap should anything dare attack the dwarfs through the Underway once more.
I really like the imagery and symbolism. Especially that last tidbit of the daemon's head as a trap.
Devious and practical.
Gemlin especially considering that, in his words, you put up stiffer competition than expected with your armour. Though the elder makes sure to poke at the differences in your beards in good fun to show no hard feelings about it, simply good old fashioned competitive spirit.
In your opinion you beat the dwarf, his, admittedly better, beard notwithstanding.
Pffft. Gemlin got owned by a "beardling" and he knows it. He's just looking for a consolation prize to soothe his pride.
"You better keep all of that in mind apprentice, I'll be testing you o-," you mutter, before blinking and realizing that you are in fact...apprentice-less. Technically at least.
You've been lecturing nothing but thin air for who knows how long now, haven't you.
He's really missing having apprentices, isn't he?
You hear Yorri snort behind you.
"Do go on lad. I want to see if half the things I taught actually stuck in that fool head of yours. What did ya say once to your wife all those centuries ago? Ironclad memory?" your master finishes with a good long chortle.
"It was Gromrilclad for your information!" you reply hotly in well-hidden embarrassment.
Bah!
To be honest, I completely expected that, and I still laughed aloud.
