Tales and Ales: Skittle and the Dwarf

Welcome all, now listen close. I've a spell to weave, a tale of course. It's of magic and might, of Gnomes and Dwarves. Of fire and ice, drunks, and no tale is complete without a battle of sorts.

It starts like any other, in the city of Ironforge. A normal day of hustle and bustle. A smog covered city with the clanging of hammers and the shouts of those going about their business. Here we find the heroine, Skittle, a Gnome of average demeanor. Cute in her small size, wandering along her arms full of scrolls for her next training session. This day was like any other for her, as it was for most others. Head full of knowledge and eyes on her parchment, checking and rechecking to make sure she wouldn't forget something this time before seeing her mentor.

Perhaps everything that will become was all a chance, or perhaps it was fate that a half sober Dwarf wandered in her path. Nearly colliding she came to a halt, he stared for a moment his breath smelling of malt. Slightly agitated, she didn't want to be late and rustling the scrolls she glared at the intrusion.

"Was there something you wanted, or do you just stand in my way?" Skittle inquired trying to peer around the behemoth of a Dwarf. Clearly as dense as he looked he stared a moment longer, his breathing the only sound. With a huff she took a step to the left, to which the Dwarf did the same.

"Do you not understand you're in my way?" Skittle wasn't the type that held in her rage, and easily to anger you were lucky if you never saw her that way.

"Well lil misshy yer migh'y fine tah look at." The Dwarf finally muttered. Unimpressed she narrowed her eyes and took another step, this time to her right.

The Dwarf again followed suit, determined to have his piece of mind be heard. "What's shay you an' I get a drink. Ale is best when ya share it with 'nother." His words were slurred from his current intake of booze. His eyes on Skittle as she rolled hers.

Shuffling the papers yet again Skittle tried once more to keep her anger in check. "No. Now move. I've things to-"

The Dwarf wouldn't have anything of the sorts. Rejection doesn't come easy to the race, especially after a few. "Now come on! Just one!" He nearly yelled in her face.

Skittle had had it. No way was someone going to cut her off. Down went her papers to the ground. She dropped them with a bit of force. "That's it!" She warned, rolling up her sleeves. "That's it! Do you understand what sort of trouble you've gotten yourself into?"

Glaring at the Dwarf she cupped her hands. With no more than a second thought Skittle conjured an ice bolt between her little hands. "I've had it with you, and all of your sorts." This wasn't the first time a male had tried to impede her in her studies. Her fingers wiggling to keep the bolt in place she huffed and looked at it with a grin. The Dwarf hardly batted an eye at this.

"Do you know what I'm going to do with this." Skittle mused. This threat worked like a charm countless times before. The Dwarf finally glanced at it with a shrug. "I'm going to put this in places you'd rather not imagine. Now out of the way or you'll feel my wrath."

Reluctantly the Dwarf stepped to the side, he even lowered himself in a half bow extending his arms to let her by. Amazed at his behavior she clapped her hands together and the bolt was gone. Nodding with satisfaction she picked up her scrolls and proceeded to walk on by.

The Dwarf wasn't done as Skittle believed. Upon her passing there was a very firm, very unexpected squeeze on her back side. This was all that was needed to sentence the Dwarf to certain doom. The scrolls went flying, the papers scattering, and one cute enraged Gnome turned on one very pleased Dwarf.

Yelling in her most defiant voice she screamed, "Outside, outside now! I will show you what I do with ice bolts! Out!" She stamped her foot and pointed to the front gates. The Dwarf with a shrug headed on out. Skittle running past him, too furious to walk.

Now I'm sure we know what the gates of Ironforge hold. Snow banks and cliffs, and the well worn path that all travelers trudge up at one point or another. Here Skittle stood. Arms crossed, foot tapping as the Dwarf lazily walked out the gates. Blinking he looked around as if he hadn't seen the sun or outdoors in days.

"Now Missy I dun wan no trouble. Just a frien'ly gesture is all."

"Draw your axe or I'll be forced to harm you unarmed." She said coolly, no sense of mercy on her voice. The Dwarf nodded and unstrapped the two handed axe from his back.

"I shall have fun with you, it's only fair." Skittle smirked. "Ready?" The Dwarf nodded.

Gnomish dialect erupted from her lips, she stood prepared and the magical energies began to circulate around her. The Drawf still not too fond of harming the small Gnome just stood weighing in the situation. He then stood on fours observing. Startled more so that his axe had fallen to the ground than him being much closer to it, he let out a yelp, though the yelp came out as nothing more than a "Baaa!"

Smoking and no longer a sheep he looked over himself. "Now why ya gotta be like that? I jus' wanted a drink." He picked up his axe, clearly undeterred, and shot forth with such speed that Skittle was stunned. Axe met ice as her shield protected her against the unexpected attack.

Skittle jumped. She summoned forth the ice around her to hold the Dwarf in place. Luckily it obeyed. Then in the blink of an eye, she was no longer in the same spot. She stood ten yards away. Out of breath. He wasn't going to do that again. She turned, her hands glowing blue. Out shot a frost bolt, breaking the his current ice shackles but it appeared to almost freeze the Dwarf.

Blue from head to toe. The Dwarf pushed forth determined to make it to Skittle. "Mi...ssy... If... I ... win... you...owe... me... a.. drink." The Dwarf was obviously struggling to speak while still trudging on. Skittle summoned another ice bolt. With lightning speed she shot it off. No way was he still interested in drinks!

Skittle knew this was it. The Dwarf was inching towards her. Time for something quick and drastic. She shot out her hand channeling the arcane arts. Small bolts of light sprung forth from her fingertips. They pummeled the Dwarf as he took one more step, his massive form towering over Skittle.

He swung is axe, broadsiding Skittle knocking her off balance and with such force she lost her concentration. She stumbled, fell, and looked up at the Dwarf sure he was about to cleave her in two. He just stood with a huff, hands griped on his axe. "Ye done playing?"

Skittle, half filled with wonder, wrinkled her nose. "Not yet!" She jumped up and the area exploded with vibrate light that arched from her body. The air smelt thick of electricity as pure energy surrounded Skittle again and again battering the poor Dwarf.

Skittle almost fell over from exhaustion. Breathing heavily. The Dwarf fell to his knees. Axe on the ground he gasped for breath. "Okay... Okay..." he finally managed. "Feisty one you are. I give" Skittle, sweat covered in the cold air, smiled as she knew she was victorious. She stood and dusted off her hands eyeing the Dwarf.

Singed, wet from the ice that had melted off of him, and still crackling from the arcane, the Dwarf finally stood, replacing the axe on his back. "When a Gnome says move, you do it." Skittle shot, still trying to prove her point she was so determined to make. The Dwarf grinned a crooked smile, not even interested in dusting off his clothes.

"Ya know... I like 'em with a lil' fire in 'em." He said.

Skittle, taken aback, blinked. After all of that, he still was interested. What a strange and stubborn race Dwarves were. She huffed, speaking her gnomish gibberish once more. She pointed at the Dwarf, again turning him into a four legged ball of fluff.

"Don't hold your breath." She snorted.

Turning on her heels she strode back into the darkness of Ironforge, leaving the Dwarf bleating his retort. The nerve! She thought to herself. After all of that he still hadn't given up. But that was a thought for another day.

She was late for her training, her scrolls still tossed about near the inn of Ironforge. Her magi wouldn't forgive her, even if she had to take care of a drunkard. Even if she had shown great proficiency in her arts. She sighed. So much trouble for just a drink.

Moral is, Dwarves don't give up easily, take the drink, it'll save you trouble and time in the end. Kindness does go much farther than hostility. You might just end up where you started trying any other means.