The Dwarf

She by far appears to be the oldest of the group but like most of her kind it’s nigh impossible to tell just HOW old she is.

It’s clear looking at her that in her early years she commanded the room with her beauty and frankly it seems she’s aged more like a wine than milk.

Her face is dotted with small wrinkles with noticeable smile lines and crows feet, her long red hair reaches down to her hips which is especially interesting as it’s clearly been coiled into several braids with an especially thick one running down the center of her back and another pair framing either side with of her face and held tight together with brass metal pieces that gently shimmer in the light of the room.

The dress she wears is more so an achievement of blacksmithing then it is tailoring with several parts of the dress clearly being made from brass plates that have been fitted together hiding much of her body in the conservative style the dwarves are so known for.

It’s clear she possesses a curvaceous body befitting of one of her race and presumed age with G cup chest and a lower body to rival even the most voluptuous of human women.

As she approaches she gently offers a hand to the young princess, her amber colored eyes slowly scanning their body, rather brazenly.

“A dance your grace~? I promise not to step on your feet TOO much…~” she says, her words saturated in a notable dwarven accent, leaving her words understandable but also adding to her exotic mystique.

Slowly the princess rises and is led off to the center of the floor where several couples move aside to offer room, many others looking on with interest as the princess dances with a foreigner.

Despite being a foot shorter then her partner, the dwarf takes the lead, firmly but gently guiding the pair in a slow waltz, her hand gently massaging the princesses lower back, quietly threatening to head further south.

“You know… I’ve always been fascinated by the dwarves of Constanov, where is it you come from…?” Asks Yelane, a small lilt of intrigue filling his girlish voice.

“Ah, an academic, are you…~?” She asks with a chuckle, seemingly amused by Yelane’s interest.

“Well I hail a bit further west, Kavlin, a Deep Community just a bit higher up then the first level of the Underdark”

“What’s it like?! I’ve never actually spoken to someone from that deep in the mountains” says Yelane, excitement quickly creeping into their voice at the prospect of learning what no book in the library has covered.

“Well we of the collective don’t do things too different from humans from my understanding… however we do not have lords and ladies, we have The Thinkers! Machines that we had built long ago to assist us in the matters of state and strategy, only later did we understand that we should be the ones assisting The Thinkers, not the other way around..!”

“The Dwarves serve machines that THEY created…? But why..? Why not rule yourselves…?” The princess asks, enraptured by the dwarven woman’s words.

“The Thinkers outpace us in cognition on every metric, it can analyze data faster and more accurately, it can improvise and adapt to rapidly evolving situations better then we ever could, without it, we’d still be a group of bickering clans fighting over resources but now, we’re all comrades in the collective… even our military reflects this..!” She says gesturing to the guards that had accompanied her to the ball.

They resemble the humanoid form only in the most abstract sense, where arms and legs should be are instead brass skeletal approximations, the torso resembles a large brass cylinder, no doubt housing whatever allows the creation to function. It’s face is completely absent, it’s face dominated by a singular lens like a telescope, presumably granting it vision.

“What… are they…?” Asks Yelane, unable to pull his gaze from the mechanical minions that watch the pair from the edge of the dance floor.

“They are Cogs, mechanical creations popularized by The Thinkers ingenious method of boosting production, where before the army had a dozen per unit, now almost the entire army is composed of them, mechanical marvels that do not know fear, of sophisticated design… thus the name…”

“A Cog is vital to the operation of the greater mechanism but easily replaced… thus is the wisdom of The Thinkers designs.” She speaks with reverence as she gazes upon the mechanical men.

“Don’t you fear they may turn against you one day…? How could you ever truly trust a machine… no conscience or morals… just… function…” Yelane retorts, challenging this line of thought.

“This is exactly why I trust them though..! A man can be bought or bullied or **** but a machine…? All it knows is what it needs to… it understands that no one life is more valuable then the collective…”

“Can machines really do everything a people can…?” Inquires Yelane, staring into the emotionless optics of one of the Cogs.

“Not yet… they can fight and they can think, yes, but there’s still some things only people can provide… hm..~?” She says, her hands slowly slinking downwards and gripping Yelane’s ass, brazenly in the middle of the ball room!

“I um… I… I never caught your name… m.. Ms…?” Yelane begins, trying to maintain the prim and proper decorum and slowly failing.

“Runespear, Gilda Runespear, I’m a member on the council and as you can see, I’ve quite the passion for high fashion~” she says with a chuckle.

“Y.. you made that dress yourself?! It’s so beautiful…! I’ve never seen a dress made from metal…” Yelane squeaks, though he’s not particularly excited about WEARING dresses he can at least appreciate the work that goes into their design and fabrication especially where Gilda’s is concerned.

“Hehe.. well thank you kindly little lady~ it took quite a bit of trial and error and it needed just the right materials… steel is too inflexible and tin is… gah… I wouldn’t bore you with the details…” despite not knowing much about metallurgy or the art of smithing, he can also appreciate how clearly in love with the craft Gilda is.

He rapidly discovers that many things he normally wouldn’t care about suddenly feel more interesting when Gilda speaks of them, she just has a kind of charisma that can’t be taught, a way with words that would make even his mother slightly envious.

And then there was her gaze, those honey colored eyes staring deep into him with such intensity, slowly scanning him as she would a gem; checking for flaws and coming away satisfied, her easy, playful grin remaining indelible upon her beautiful face that makes goosebumps run up Yelane’s arms and his heart to skip a beat.

“So what of yourself~? I fear I know little about my dance partner~” she says, her voice taking on a tone of faux earnestness as she gently probes at the young princess.

“I… I well… what’s there t.. to say…?” He says, floundering slightly, somehow caught off guard that she’d inquire about himself.

Her eyes narrow slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line for but a moment before she asks a more pointed question, one that sends a hot flash of embarrassment across his face.

“Surely I’m not the first to have caught your eye and I’ve always been fond of honest competition…~” she says with that easy self assurance that Yelane had come to expect but even still the words impact him as hard as any spell.

“Oh..! I… I… well.. I.. I don’t know about all th.. that… I.. I um… I’m kinda new to this whole… courting business…” Yelane admits, his sheepishness clearly amusing the diminutive but domineering woman as she slows her lead of the dance, ultimately grinding to a stop.

“I see…~ well I’ve been in the business of wooing beautiful maidens for quite a time and I’ve found that once a prospective suitor makes a public statement as to their intentions the… lesser candidates shall we say, fade into the woodwork… leaving only the most serious of contenders…” she says, her words measured and diplomatic but the look in those amber colored gems speak nothing of politics or strategy. They speak of lust and passion and desire and all the things Yelane was weak to, whether he liked it or not.

He says nothing, eyes wide as he slowly arrives at the mental conclusion she had so gently guided him to. He does nothing as she gently rests a hand on his shoulder, gently guiding him down to his knees and into eye level with her.

His breath catches into his throat as she gently caresses his cheek, leaning in so slowly, it seems the world entire had slowed to a crawl as her lips meet his. Stealing his first kiss.

Though she clearly wanted more, the kiss is sweet and romantic, like the kind dashing knights deliver unto fair maidens in story books, something that suggested only the noblest of intentions.

It’s only when they separate and the dwarf gives a small smile to the princess that Yelane notices that he had been holding his breath. It’s clear that it had garnered a great deal of attention from the party at large as other couples stopped in their tracks, more then a few faces wear a sour expression, clearly slighted by the dwarfs brazen display of intimacy.

Gently Gilda helps Yelane to his feet once more, the music reaches a lull, indicating that this dance is done, as the two part Yelane feels… sad. Of course the night is still young but it still feels like the high point of the evening has just passed. With a sigh he returns to the throne to sit beside an absolutely beaming queen, unable to hide her giddy excitement.

———————————————————————

The night progresses, drinks are drunk, food eaten and songs danced to but nothing quite matches that same energy as when it was just Yelane and Gilda, the world a distant memory.

The cheerful atmosphere of the ballroom is shattered by a rumble that shakes the room and sends more than a few guests and servants to their knees.

Guests look amongst each other, confusion, fear, and anger can be found on more then a few guests, the music has died filling the room with silence, allowing the noises of the hall to filter in through the door.

The clash of metal on metal, screams both fearful and guttural paint a clear picture of what lay beyond the door. All but 4 guards rush over, swords raises as they put themselves between the door and the guests creating a small line as the room waits with bated breath for whatever it is behind that door to reveal itself.

The noise dies down outside when suddenly the great doors fly open, and pouring through comes demons, vile beasts of chaos and destruction.

They are as varied as the sins themselves, some are gangly and rail thin, giving their limbs a sickly almost skeletal appearance, others are hulking brutes, likely composed of more muscle than bone, with hides covered in ritual scars.

The tides of the abyss fall upon the royal guard like a meteor, bones shatter, flesh torn and armor caved inwards, leaving the guests at their mercy but they do not advance, not yet at least.

Stepping into the room not far behind the horde is a figure that falls outside the standards set by the foot soldiers, this individual at least bares some amount of humanoid features.

She’s humanoid in shape yet she towers over the ballroom guests at over 9ft. in height, her skin is a bloody crimson, horns resting atop her head and curled backwards, she wears fine silks, that grow transparent should one focus on them enough.

“What a lovely party… a bit stuffy though… hmmm… wouldn’t you all be happier without all this pretense..? All these rules and social norms…~?” Her eyes scan the crowd, with each step she takes into the room, the ice sizzles and thaws beneath the clacking over her heels.

“I will say this but once… leave this place and return to the hole from which you dragged yourself or you will be sent back by the blade!” Says Yelane’s mother as she rises from her seat, her hand resting upon the pommel of her blade that remains on her waist.

“Hmm… no… no I don’t think I will… in fact… I think I’ll be staying awhile, your poor guests must be bored to tears… especially you…~” she says, a razor toothed smile spreading across her face like a hideous scar as she sets her blazing eyes on one such man.

“You’ve been eying the waiter for some time Lord Carden… I know what you desire just as well as you do…~ such a strapping young man should be serviced.. shouldn’t he…~?” She says, staring at the older gentleman like a lion staring at a gazelle.

“Y… yes… yes of course you’re right…” he says, his voice indicating that he’s just come to an obvious conclusion.

Gasps are pulled from the crowd as Lord Carden shuffles across the floor and sinks to his knees before a shocked but equally entranced waiter, Carden sinks out of view to at least Yelane but the noises that follow paint too clear a picture to Yelane.

Similar scenes play out across the ballroom as the demoness sweeps her gaze across the floor, banishing inhibitions and giving rise to the most debauched of fantasies.

Only 4 guards as well as Lady Dunwall remain at the queen’s disposal, she stops in her tracks, looking back to Yelane deep in thought before she looks up towards Lady Dunwall.

“Take my child from here… far as you can… should I survive I shall send one of my agents… I put her in your charge…” she says before marching towards her opponent, the remaining guards close at heel.

“N.. no…! Mother…!” Cries Yelane as he’s dragged from the room by his caretaker, Lady Dunwall presses her hand into an otherwise innocuous wall near the twin thrones until there’s the sound of a click, the walls pressing open to form a gap just wide enough to fit them both before the wall closes once more.

The last Yelane sees of his mother is her staring defiantly up at the demon, raising her sword, meaning to chop the foul creature in the legs before Yelane is pulled from the room.

Yelane and Lady Dunwall stand in only one of the winding hallways of the keep, gently she pulls Yelane along.

“We must get to the dungeon… there’s a secret path there… we just need to-“ shes cut short as they turn the corner, where they spot struggle blocking their path forward.

It’s Gilda! She and her Cogs are locked in battle with 6 of the demons who surround her on all sides, she doesn’t stand alone, being assisted by her mechanical guards her a chance but she’s still outnumbered 2 to 1.

“We have to help her! She won’t last much longer!” Shouts Yelane, causing Dunwall to sigh, eyes closed as she tries to weigh up the pros and cons of interference in her head before hefting her oversized weapon and rushing to the dwarfs aid.

Together they make short work of the demons who were unprepared for the hulking Goliath of a woman to fall upon them.

Gilda wipes sweat from her brow, looking over to spot Yelane her face softens a little. “You’re help is much appreciated young one… I’ll not forget this.”

“O.. of course… we couldn’t just… leave you like that…”

“I’ll be reporting this to Comrade Thinker Epsilon… it will want to hear this… and… I’ll see if we can organize a **** to retake the city… you’ve my word on that” she says, her eyes speaking of the conviction in her words.

She turns to take off but she spares a moment to look back upon Yelane before she steels herself and rushes off down a branching corridor before Lady Dunwall leads Yelane continue on down their path.

“If we’re leaving the castle we need to collect what we can…!” States Yelane as the pair travel down the corridors to the escape route.

“Out of the question, we need to make as much space between us and our pursuers as we can manage.” Her words are filled with a stoic determination.

“Without coin or supplies, we’ll just die out there instead of in here, this is our only chance to prepare before we head out into The White..!” Replies Yelane, emphasizing the importance of what she’s saying.

There’s a long pause, Yelane can see the look in Dunwalls eyes as she tries to divine a perfect path through all this strife and yet she can’t, finally she must accept Yelane’s point.

“By the gods.. fine..! What would you have us do then..?” She says exasperated as she turns to the princess.

(Authors Note: You may pick two options before you must depart.)