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A. F. Kay
A. F. Kay

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HLP - Chapter 3

Chapter Three

When Hamma had visited the monster city two years ago, it had been to the outskirts, at night, in an area pulsing with colored lights. Now, though, the entire landscape shone with warm light from an artificial sun Blapy had created for her creatures.

The portal had delivered them to a town square in the middle of a sprawling city. Hamma recognized four-armed Clapping Brawlers, a loud group of goblins, their white, red, and black hats a splash of color moving down the street, along with dozens of other creatures she had never seen. All of them went about their business and paid them no mind.

The district they had arrived in seemed to be part of the old town. Buildings here were smaller and quainter than the towering stone monoliths and glass spires further uphill. The street sign hovering on her map read, “Old Wyrmery Road.”

The city itself was ringed all around by rising countryside of diverse climates. Ahead on the horizon, colossal snowy peaks descended gradually into rolling green hills and then to a heaving grey sea, currently under assault by a violent hurricane. Behind them, a volcano rumbled ominously, coughing up ash and spilling over with molten lava, which looked to be flowing perilously close to a few of the farmsteads at its foot.

“Where’s the…” said Lylan, turning in a circle and squinting into the distance. “Oh, yep. There’s the desert, complete with sandstorm. You’d think Blapy would give her monsters a little peace in their own homes, but it looks like she’s still trying to kill them.”

“What’s that yeh say?” squeaked a furious voice from somewhere near their feet.

Hamma looked down, but couldn’t see anyone. She turned back to Lylan. “They look like habitats to me.”

“Habitats, right,” said Lylan, gesturing toward an avalanche that had just begun roaring down the distant mountainside. “Cozy.”

“Say that again, yeh amplitudinous knaves! Say it again. I dare yeh.”

Hamma spun around, searching the ground, and finally spotted the speaker. Hopping on the cobbles behind Lylan’s boot was the tiniest and most irate mouse Hamma had ever seen. The little thing couldn’t have been bigger than a raspberry and was positively spitting with rage. Hamma focused on it.

Name: Pillaging Dormouse

Deity: Miranda

Level: 43

Health: Unknown

Mana: Unknown

Energy: Unknown

It surprised Hamma that she could see so little of the creature’s stats, given that she was higher level.

“Ye rascals presume to enter me city and insult the Resplendent Wyrm, do ye?” The dormouse skittered sideways in odd little leaps to face them head on. “Mayhap yeh’ll learn some manners if we takes yer nose off!” And with that, it jumped at Lylan, landing on her pant leg and scurrying upward.

Before either of them could react, the dormouse had reached Lylan’s shoulder and launched itself at Lylan’s face.

“Wait!” shouted Hamma, lunging forward and capturing the creature between two cupped hands and holding it there. “Did he get you?” cried Hamma, checking Lylan for debuffs.

“Did he get me?” said Lylan, looking back at Hamma incredulously. “Apologize, Hamma. Apologize right now.”

Hamma laughed. “Okay, sorry. My healer instinct kicked in.” She shook her head, then raised her cupped hands to eye level.

The dormouse was pinging around in there energetically, but had not the smallest chance of escaping.

“Excuse me, sir?” said Hamma, into her hands. “Our apologies if you thought we were insulting the, uh, Resplendent Wyrm. We are new to this place, but have great respect for the Companion. We’re looking for her, in fact.”

“Yes,” added Lylan, moving closer and speaking to Hamma’s hands. “We, eh, want to pay her homage.” She grimaced questioningly at Hamma.

The dormouse had gone still.

Hamma nodded at Lylan. “That’s right,” continued Hamma. She slowly opened her hands. “We were hoping you would be so kind as to direct us to her.”

The dormouse peered up at them from Hamma’s palm, his small black eyes narrowed in suspicion. He wore no clothing or gear except for a minuscule gold hoop through his left ear. “What’s that yeh say?” he asked, cautiously.

“We are in search of the Companion,” repeated Lylan gently. “We wish to pay our respects.”

It suddenly struck Hamma that when Lylan had inadvertently spoken her insult, she’d used the name ‘Blapy.’ “We’re friends of Sift,” Hamma said. “My name is Hamma. And this is Lylan.”

The dormouse’s ears twitched rapidly. “Lylan, yeh say?”

“Yes,” said Lylan, smiling brightly.

“Well, bite me ear off!” said the dormouse, suddenly springing from Hamma’s palm toward Lylan.

Lylan caught him, surprised, and held him up as Hamma had done. The dormouse sat back on his haunches and grinned broadly at Lylan. “Why, we been waiting to meet yeh for an age, we have.”

“Really?” said Lylan.

“Yeh be the lass our Sift goes on and on about, are yeh not?”

“I am.”

“That’s what we said,” replied the dormouse. “And Ickles be me.”

“Well met, Ickles.”

“Yeh’ll forgive an ol’ chap fer starting up on yeh like that, but yeh can’t be too careful as to…” Ickles glanced warily toward Hamma, then leaned toward Lylan and whispered, “foreigners.”

“Indeed,” said Lylan solemnly, the corner of her mouth twitching. “You never know.”

Ickles gave Lylan a sly wink, then sat back again.

“Hamma’s all right,” Lylan whispered to the dormouse. “She’s not Sift’s girl, it’s true, but she is his dear friend and traveling companion.”

“Ickles looked at Hamma with more warmth. “Suppose that’s all right, then. Well met, my good sir,” he said, dipping his head.

Hamma bowed back, slightly stung, but decided to ignore it. Perhaps dormice weren’t very skilled at telling humans apart.

“In quest o’ the Wyrm, yeh say?” asked Ickles. “On an errand fer our own Sift, me thinks. And is he not a prodigious leader? Canny an’ daring as he growed up to be, we expects yeh’ll follow him anywhere. And why should yeh not?”

Hamma smothered her surprise so as not to offend either of them. “Absolutely,” she said.

Lylan, meanwhile, was positively beaming.

“Do you know if the Companion is in the city?” asked Hamma. “It’s very important that we find her. For Sift,” she added.

“Well, now that be a tricky one fer old Ickles,” he said thoughtfully. “But we know just where to send yeh. The Garroter’s Groat, that be the place.”

“The Garroter’s Groat?” said Lylan. “What kind of place is it?”

Ickles tsked in a disappointed kind of way. “The Garroter’s Groat,” he said again. “It be the pub up the road, o’ course. Now, to get there, yeh want to follow this road, see? When yeh come to the shop with the candle in the window, yeh want to go right. Ask no questions, mind; that candle’s not fer you. Follow that road up a ways till yeh see a vat o’ bubbling grey slime. That be Archie.”

“Archie,” said Lylan, nodding.

“Just so. Yeh be sure to give a g’day to old Archie, he’s one o’ the good ones. After that, yeh want to go right again. That road be a bit unkempt, so yeh be sure to watch yer footing, now. Take yer first right once more, and yeh’ll see the sign, no mistake.”

“Hold on,” said Hamma, thinking it through and examining what she could of the surrounding streets. “Won’t that bring us right back here?”

“O’ course,” said Ickles, gesturing with his paw toward a building behind them. “The Garroter’s Groat.”

“Can’t we just go straight there?” asked Lylan. “Do we have to go all the way around?”

“Oh!” said Ickles, surprised. “Yeh want the fast way? Then, aye. Aye, yeh can go right on in.”

Lylan appeared to keep her composure with difficulty. “Thank you, Ickles. You’ve been a great help.”

“’Tis nothing, Miss Lylan,” said Ickles, bowing and jumping off of Lylan’s hand. “And thank yeh, Sir Hamma, fer being such a faithful servant to our Sift!”

“Uh, I’m a woman, actually,” said Hamma, with a gentle smile.

Ickles looked Hamma up and down with a doubtful expression, but said nothing.

Hamma sighed. “You’re welcome,” she said. “It’s always a pleasure to serve Sift.”

“That’s right,” nodded Ickles. “G’day to yeh!” The dormouse hopped away across the cobblestone pavement, disappearing between the hooves of shoppers and the wheels of handcarts.

Hamma shook her head, then turned and led the way toward the pub.

Comments

Hahaha

A. F. Kay

Spot on, thank you.

BRB

I think it would be funny to call the city Pens-vill-ania

Samuel Strode

Monster city? Maybe capital city I am sure Ruwen would have shared his thoughts about the denizens of the pyramid having there own lives and Hammah would have seen that at the wedding as well

Samuel Strode


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