Original Submissions by Youngervaleria

• 

  A Dwarven "Romance"
  Added on Aug 12, 2012

  This is a tale about Onyxi, a young dwarf who joined the Byn in order to scope it out for male dwarves with the intent of using them to help her with her focus, and to learn ‘protection skills’ also of value to her focus.

  ---

  This story has been edited to remove a lot of the superfluous spammy material, typographical errors, and things not directly related to the story.  Onyxi in brief:

   

  You are Onyxi, a Runner of the T'zai Byn.

  Keywords: ebon-skinned matronly dwarf

  Sdesc: the ebon-skinned, matronly dwarf

  Objective: To create an excellent family (step one, find the ideal male.)

   

  You are 31 years, 1 months, and 47 days old, which by your race and appearance is young.

  You are 51 inches tall, and weigh 9 ten-stone.

  Your strength is very good, your agility is good, your wisdom is poor, and your endurance is good.

  You are neither hungry nor thirsty.

  Your health is 129(129), you have 115(126) stamina, and 121(121) stun.

  You have been playing for 1 days and 18 hours.

   

  The dwarf before you is short for her race and is nearly as wide as she is tall.  Her shoulders are slightly more narrow than her flaring hips, which support an expansive bottom.  Though she is obviously very muscular, her physique is padded with a comfortable layer of fat that makes her muscles lack definition.  If the wide hips were not enough of an indication that this dwarf is female, her very large and pendulous bosom would be a dead giveaway to even the most dense of half-giants.  The dwarf's skin is a nearly uniform ebon color, broken by the lighter lines of scars which mostly appear on the backs of her arms.  Almost circularly round, her face sports chubby cheeks and a defined double-chin, as well as a bulbous nose and expressively ginka-colored lips.  Her almond-shaped eyes are a lighter shade of brown, set far forward and seeming to be lacking any kind of eyebrow crease.  The age lines in the corners make them seem perpetually squinted.

   

  ***

   

  (Onyxi is hanging around the Byn kitchen, eating stew, when her Sergeant walks in.  As she plows through several bowls of stew, he sits down to chat.)

   

  Scooping it into her mouth with her fingers, you eat part of your bowl of stew.

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in sirihish:

       "Stumps seem to all have healthy appetites. Probably why we are not as hideously thin as humans."

   

  At your table, you say in sirihish, around a mouthful of stew:

       "Oy Sarge.  Glad I'm not loosin' too much fat.  Doin' all this work.  Spent a long time puttin' it on."

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in sirihish, to you:

       "Yes shows you can care for yourself. And probably a couple little stumps."

   

  At your table, you say in sirihish, squinting speculatively at the mesh-scarred dwarf:

       "Oy, you think so?  Got a bit of work t' do before getting there I think.  No place t' raise them yet."

   

  You feel pleased.

   

  You think:

       "Well.  At least I look like I could have a good family."

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in sirihish, to you:

       "What sort of place are you going to get?"

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in sirihish:

       "Or planning to get?"

   

  At your table, you say in sirihish, speculatively, making a boxy gesture in the air:

       "Just somethin' with four walls and a door.  Don't need a lot of space.  But need something you're not sharin' with a bunch of people."

   

  A loud horn blast sounds from the southwest.

   

  At your table, you say in sirihish, counting on her fingers:

       "Need t' make enough t' get it, and stock it with food and water.  I'm working on protection, here.  And healin'--"

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in sirihish:

       "Like your own house or do you mean an apartment?"

   

  At your table, you say in sirihish, turning back to the mesh-scarred dwarf with enthusiasm, after giving a distracted glance toward the yard:

       "An apartment would do I think, Sarge.  As long as it wasn't fallin' apart.  Don't want little ones fallin' through holes in the floor."

   

  At your table, you say in sirihish, head bobbing consideringly:

       "And our little ones can be so little."

   

  You feel herself getting drawn into her plans.

   

  You think:

       "And some good decoration."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf nods at you.

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in sirihish:

       "They are small but wide."

   

  At your table, you say in sirihish, musingly sketching a circle in the air:

       "A pile of nice soft shit.  Rugs and pillows.  That ought t' do to bed a couple.  Oy Sarge, but small legs.  I'm thinkin', a little one gets a foot caught in the floor, that's trouble."

   

  At your table, you say in sirihish, solemnly:

       "Broke some of my toes like that, once, place I had with my da.  A lot of weight t' fuck around with."

   

  You feel a picture unfolding in her mind of a small, well-repaired, cozy place to house a little family.

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in sirihish, to you:

       "As interested as I am about getting a place and making babies with you, you better get to training."

   

  At your table, you say in sirihish, giving her head a little shake, blankly:

       "Trainin'?"

   

  At your table, you say in sirihish, craning her neck and peering out into the yard:

       "Oy, training.  Lost track of time.  Sorry Sarge.  And I think you'd likely make fine babies.  Been watchin'.  Strong and smart.  No skin problems.  Good head."

   

  Hopping up, you stand up from a long, chipped stone table, hustling for the yard.

   

  (Onyxi wanders out to training.  Between bouts, she Ways Dregg.)

   

  You think:

       "Let's see.  Pillows and rugs.  That's a really good idea.  Can't forget that one."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf sends you a telepathic message:

       "So I'd assume you know the best of the apartments in town?"

   

  You send a telepathic message to the mesh-scarred dwarf:

       "Probably not the best, Sarge.  The best are likely too expensive, even after I make Trooper and hopefully start having some income.  I know a few that are tolerable, though, and likely good enough."

   

  You send a telepathic message to the mesh-scarred dwarf:

       "Definitely not where I grew up, or the tenements I stayed in after my da ran off.  Those are definitely too run down for little ones.  I'd have to investigate.  It's part of the plan."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf sends you a telepathic message:

       "I can't find an empty apartment in a respectable building. Oh well."

   

  You send a telepathic message to the mesh-scarred dwarf:

       "Oy Sarge.  Sorry for not getting back to you, yet.  Rotating merchant, Byn, gith, takes some concentration.  I figure it'll take patience.  Good rooms aren't always easy to come by."

   

  You send a telepathic message to the mesh-scarred dwarf:

       "Other people got families... some of them even care about them enough to give them a good place.  But I'm gith, a minute."

   

  (Training eventually ends, and Onyxi wanders back to the mess hall.

   

  The ebon-skinned, matronly dwarf straightens long enough to salute the mesh-scarred dwarf, before settling her elbows back down onto a long, chipped stone table and leaning on them.

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in mirukkim, to you, cheeks puffing out:

       "Don't let me ..pressure you about anything."

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in mirukkim, to you:

       "I..am fairly wealthy for a grebber and I prefer having a female partner for everything basically. And I've had apartments before."

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in mirukkim, to you, shaking his head:

       "I...bah."

   

  At your table, you say in mirukkim, squinting speculatively at the mesh-scarred dwarf:

       "I'm not of a mind to, it's too important.  Even though you're my Sarge.  You're family oriented?"

   

  You think:

       "If he's wealthy, things could move on a bit more quickly.  If he's family oriented... I'd not /depend/ on him for the protection, but two might be better than one.  If not, it'll probably bear more thinking on."

   

  You feel patient.

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in mirukkim, to you:

       "I am. If they'd go with me when the time comes."

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in mirukkim, to you:

       "My sergeant had her way with me when I first joined. But she never let me have special treatment."

   

  At your table, you say in mirukkim, lifting her brows at the mesh-scarred dwarf, cautiously:

       "Just the kids, or the female as well?  And I have no mind for special treatments.  That's unimportant in comparison."

   

  Your mood is now intent.

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in mirukkim, to you:

       "Everyone I'd hope. But you know how hard it is for us to agree on things."

   

  At your table, you say in mirukkim, nodding solemnly to the mesh-scarred dwarf:

       "Aye.  That's why all of my plans have been for me and the kids.  That's what's important.  If the man wanted to be part of my family... I might have to revise some plans."

   

  At your table, you say in mirukkim, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully as she starts drumming her fingertips on a long, chipped stone table:

       "It'd definitely warrant a revision of timetables.  I'd planned on needing to make Trooper for the financial support, and suspected it'd take longer to find..."

   

  At your table, you say in mirukkim, at length:

       "... someone suitable."

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in mirukkim:

       "No rush."

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in mirukkim, with a wink at you:

       "I'm sure you'll find someone better and richer in no time anyway."

   

  At your table, you say in mirukkim, flashing a brief, crook-toothed grin:

       "Patience is good.  I'm plenty young enough to have time to get things right.  I'm just talking."

   

  At your table, you say in mirukkim, rolling her eyes at the mesh-scarred dwarf:

       "Richer is unimportant when considered against skin quality and survivability.  If the man ends up walking off, and I've always suspected it'd happen when interests diverged, quality children are more important."

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in mirukkim, to you:

       "Aye. It is a wonder there are any of us around."

   

  A loud horn blast sounds from the southwest.

   

  At your table, you say in mirukkim, nodding solemnly to the mesh-scarred dwarf:

       "Aye, it is sometimes to me as well.  I guess I was lucky, in that my da at least managed to keep me until I was old enough to keep myself before he disappeared.  Not everyone is."

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in mirukkim:

       "I sort of ran off when the kanks died."

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in mirukkim:

       "I guess my parents were busy."

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in mirukkim:

       "In the end maybe they were right. All these years later and I am doing well."

   

  At your table, the mesh-scarred dwarf says in mirukkim:

       "It was so long ago and my memories fuzzy. I really can't be angry for some reason."

   

  At your table, you say in mirukkim, puffing up her shoulders:

       "Aye sir, you turned out.  But that's left to chance too often.  I've seen plenty of less happier endings.  I just won't have it for my kids.  I'm going to do better than that.  They'll at least have me."

   

  At your table, you say in mirukkim, gesturing in a broad circle:

       "And I'll be able to protect them, and support them, and do basic healing when it's needed, that's the intent at least."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "Then you better get your fine ass to training runner."

   

  Squinting toward the yard, you say, in mirukkim:

       "Aye.  Sorry Sarge.  The topic gets me going."

   

  Quickly, you stand up from a long, chipped stone table.

   

  (Onyxi goes back to training.  A couple of weeks later, Dregg and Onyxi are leaving the Byn training hall, where Dregg was sparring with Meso and Lew.  Dregg lost the final match to Meso.)

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf waves his overlong arm in a wave.

   

  With a nod to the mesh-scarred dwarf and nod to the others, the wide-faced dwarf says, in mirukkim:

       "Shade and water."

   

  The jade-eyed, black skinned dwarf says to you, in sirihish:

       "It was nice to see you."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "You can watch me dress if you like."

   

  With a gravelly chuckle, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "But can't watch Red Meso.  I see how this works."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "You get to have his babies now anyway hah."

   

  (They begin walk to the storage room, for Dregg to change.)

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf asks you, in mirukkim:

       "You looking for the best specimen right?"

   

  With a brief squint, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "Never meaning any disrespect to the Red, but have you seen his skin?  It's very... worrisome.  Though I like him personally."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf looks over his own skin and squints.

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf asks, in mirukkim:

       "What is wrong with his skin?"

   

  Making as if to brush at her arm, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "It's flaky.  Pieces peeling off all over.  Skin like that worries me."

   

  (Background information: Onyxi is obsessed with skin quality because her first child was born a scaly-skinned mutant after her first mate abandoned her to pursue his focus.  The situation was extremely shameful to Onyxi because she reasoned that a mutant could never belong to an ‘excellent’ family.  After several unsuccessful attempts to cure its skin condition, Onyxi killed it because a mutant would make her family less than excellent.)

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says, in mirukkim:

       "I didn't notice."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf rubs at his bulbous nose for a few moments then shakes his head again.

   

  With a brief, crook-toothed grin, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "I tend to notice.  I wonder how much blood him and his brother share, it seems to have skipped him."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says, in mirukkim:

       "If they say they are brothers I would not question it."

   

  Dropping her chin back down, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "Oy Sarge, to most people I wouldn't speak on it.  But same mother and father, or just shared one, or... they said their father used to pick up strays.  They could be brother by raising."

   

  After a moment, musingly, you say, in mirukkim:

       "He's probably too risky.  I'm not going to ask.  That'd be an offensive question."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "I can't remember my parents well."

   

  Nodding soberly, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "Most of our kind can't that I've found, Sarge.  Don't know one or both.  My ma, I have no idea.  She did something with silt skimmers.  Could never get anything about her out of my da."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "I found my purpose too early and was on my way I think."

   

  You think:

       "It's really a shame about the parentless nature of dwarves.  But my kids will have better done by them, that's for sure."

   

  Squinting at him for a moment, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "Oy Sarge.  If the kid's ready, the kid's ready.  Chances are no one's going to hold them back.  I'd have appreciated a little more parenting, myself."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf checks over his gear.

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf asks you, in mirukkim:

       "How do I look?"

   

  Grumbling, you say, in mirukkim:

       "Didn't even leave enough advance rent on the apartment.  Ended up losing all of the fixing up I'd done.  Thanks da for n--"

   

  Cutting off, you look at the mesh-scarred dwarf.

  Scars apparently cover this squat humanoid from head to toe.  There is such a multitude that they cross each other in a crude and random mesh pattern.  His leathery skin is a dull reddish color with the slightly raised scar tissue having a pinkish hue.  He stands bowlegged, with his legs appearing short and thick for even one of his kind.  Extending from his sides are arms appearing too long for him.  Appearing wide and and slender, his hands are almost as out of place as his arms.  His red eyes are sunken deep under his brow on either side of a bulbous nose.  His lips are thick and perpetually cracked and dry, exposing a few cracked and missing teeth when he speaks.  Small scarcely pointed ears frame his wide lopsided face.  A cumbersome, heavily muscled torso dominates his form.   Gently slumping shoulders lead down to a protruding belly that appears to be pure muscle.  His wide chest expands generously with each inhalation of breath, expansive nostrils seeming to flare regularly. 

  (He's also wearing a bunch of armor.)

   

  After a minute of squinting the mesh-scarred dwarf up and down, you say, in mirukkim:

       "Just like usual Sarge."

   

  Snorting softly, the mesh-scarred dwarf asks you, in mirukkim:

       "Aye. What happn to your Da?"

   

  Briskly, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "The rinth."

   

  You feel simmering resentment still.

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf asks you, in mirukkim:

       "Do you want to go inspect that building?"

   

  Grinning briefly, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "Oy.  I was all curious about that, before all the excitement happened."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf exclaims to you, in mirukkim:

       "Let's go before the week starts then!"

   

  (Walking ensues, an apartment building is reached.)

   

  A Small Entry Room [N, S]

     This small room serves as a sort of barrier between the tenament within, and the harsh sandstorms that often plague the city streets just outside its southern door.  Sparsely decorated, it is lit by pungent-smelling, flickering sconces which dole out weak but adequate light. To the north, a sand-encrusted rug, reddish and worn, leads down a wide hallway, while a doorway leads south to the Commoner's Quarter. 

  The mesh-scarred dwarf is standing here, looking a bit winded.

  The stern, massive man leans against the doorway lazily.

   

  Craning her neck as she peers around, you say, in mirukkim:

       "Less run down than where I grew up, certainly.  The building anyway."

   

  You begin talking about topics.

  The stern, massive man says, in sirihish:

       "Dunno much, I jes' watch over these apartments."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf asks you, in mirukkim:

       "Want to look over the room he has?"

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "I used to have an apartment here long ago. Not too bad but you probably would have to eyeball it for yourself."

   

  After turning away from squinting at the stern, massive man, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "Aye Sarge, it's probably the only way we'll learn anything about it.  This hairy doesn't know anything, he says.  Though it may be a waste of coin.  I guess that's up to you."

   

  You think:

       "I'd really like to see it."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "Coins are worth less than information."

   

  The ebon-skinned, matronly dwarf nods firmly.

   

  Taking the coins, the stern, massive man says to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in sirihish:

       "Thank you.  Your room is the one with hide on it."

   

  (They walk to the room.)

   

  A Small Bedroom [E, Quit, Save]

     Small and efficient, this room is dominated by a comfortable bed with a small table resting beside it.  Set into one wall are a series of shelves, upon which small trinkets and figurines can be placed.  A large maroon hide rug stretches across the hard-packed dirt floor, covering it nearly to the walls.  A small closet door rests in one wall. 

  The mesh-scarred dwarf is standing here, looking a bit winded.

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf gets his blue-striped keg from a small bone closet.

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says, in mirukkim:

       "Cleaning fluid."

   

  You feel absorbed in analyzing the room.

   

  The ebon-skinned, matronly dwarf gives the mesh-scarred dwarf a distracted nod as she raps a fist firmly against the door, then begins wandering the walls, occasionally bending to peer or poke at a spot.

   

  Squinting, the mesh-scarred dwarf says, in mirukkim:

       "Hmm."

   

  Mumbling to herself, you say, in mirukkim:

       "Solid walls.  Door's a bit iffy, but not likely to be trouble for little ones.  Floor.  Dirt!  No slats to get feet caught in.  Has a rug.  It'll need a few more.  Little ones tend to fall..."

   

  Sticking her whole head into it, you look in a small bone closet.

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf sits on an etched-bone framed bed.

   

  Rapping the closet door idly as she makes her circuit, you say, in mirukkim:

       "Needs some sanding.  This is splintering some, don't want bone caught in fingers.  Could lead to infection.  Windows?  None.  Good.  Nothing to fall out of."

   

  Your new ldesc is:

  The ebon-skinned, matronly dwarf prowls the room.

   

  The ebon-skinned, matronly dwarf peers at the shelves, puffing out her cheeks.

   

  Cheeks puffing out, the mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "Now we know what this building is like."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "Even though it could be fun, you might hold off on making babies until you get better at protecting."

   

  Holding up his hands, the mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "It’s not for me to tell you how to do your life's work tho. Just something that came to my mind."

   

  You think:

       "Shelves.  Attached to the wall.  That's good.  Still nothing heavy or sharp."

   

  After giving a set of grey stone shelves a firm yank, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "Aye.  Fun and work.  Hmm."

   

  With a chuckle, the mesh-scarred dwarf asks you, in mirukkim:

       "Which is the fun part?"

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf touches his temples, nostrils flaring briefly.

   

  Squinting thoughtfully, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "Never was the intent to have the kids as a runner.  Just don't think that'd work out well.  The plan was always at least Trooper.  Then, you know you're trained in protection, with an income..."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "I think we boot you out while you got your babies inside you."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "Can't spar closer to birth anyway."

   

  Crossing her arms with a nod and drumming her fingers against them, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "Aye.  Savings.  Savings would be important.  It's going to take some further planning, certainly."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "I have a lot saved. Enough for years on end. But I don't want to pressure you. Pick who you want."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "And I feel like its dawn already. You'll have plenty of time to inspect the place. Maybe we'll find a better one."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf drops many coins.

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says, in mirukkim:

       "Leave the coins. If they are gone soon we know this place is robbed too often."

   

  Squinting briefly, you look at a pile of allanaki coins, then nods.

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "Hardly anyone can resist picking up coins. I know I probably couldn't."

   

  Nodding briskly, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "Aye Sarge.  I'll try not to be distracted at training, thinking about it.  Fact is, I find you pretty likely, in comparison to most of the men I've seen around lately."

   

  Rambling as she shuffles toward the door, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "Aye, coins.  But you've got high survivability.  And good skin.  I'll admit Sarge that your limbs are a bit oddly shaped, but I've never seen that slow you down, sands or sparring."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "I'll take that as a compliment. I got some reports to do. Make sure you lock the door so it’s a true test. Its had benefits and drawbacks."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "Helps for boxing and climbing."

   

  Musing distractedly, you say, in mirukkim:

       "Skin, though.  That turns into other problems... aye Sarge, I should get running."

   

  The mesh-scarred dwarf says to you, in mirukkim:

       "Aye."

   

  With a gravelly chuckle, you say to the mesh-scarred dwarf, in mirukkim:

       "No doubt see you around.  Shade."

   

  (Onyxi heads out, for training, thinking while she walks.)

   

  You think:

       "Well.  Well.  It's not like you can't decide differently later."

   

  You think:

       "There would certainly be benefits in the arrangement."

   

  You think:

       "You'd need coins."

   

  You think:

       "If he's got the funding... well, I wouldn't rely on that.  The plan was never to rely on the man."

   

  (Onyxi wanders into training.)

   

  Your mood is now distracted.

   

  Moving out of the ring, the broad-shouldered, beryl-eyed man says, in sirihish:

       "s'a'righ'.  You three 'ave a go a' one another."

   

  As she shuffles across the hall with a distracted expression, you say, in sirihish:

       "Eh?  Oh.  Oy."

   

  (Onyxi pulls her training things out of her backpack, then just stands there holding them.)

   

  You think:

       "Training.  But just thinking about... you could work on turning that place into a proper home.  If it doesn't get stolen from all that often."

   

  You think:

       "It's a good thing those shelves are attached to the walls.  Still, nothing heavy or sharp on them.  Little ones like to climb and pull things down onto themselves."

   

  Squinting briefly, you say, in sirihish:

       "Someone said somethin' about a round?  Sorry.  My thoughts aren't turnin'

  off so easy today."

   

  The petite, green-lipped female says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:

       "Guess it's with me."

   

  Flashing a brief grin, you say to the petite, green-lipped female, in sirihish:

       "Oy Elly.  I'll, ah... ring."

   

  The ebon-skinned, matronly dwarf shuffles over to an empty ring, only pausing a moment to squint off into space.

   

  You think:

       "It'll need a couple of rugs, though.  Good rugs."

   

  The petite, green-lipped female says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:

       "Ready when you are."

   

  With a brisk shake of her head, then a nod, you say to the petite, green-lipped female, in sirihish:

       "Oy.  Ready as I'm likely t' be.  You come on at me."

   

  (Training commences, Onyxi barely notices, then the round ends.)

   

  The broad-shouldered, beryl-eyed man says, in sirihish:

       "Good match...."

   

  Mumbling as she shuffles out of the circle, you say, in sirihish:

       "Couple different color rugs, maybe.  Somethin' festive."

   

  A bit raggedly, the petite, green-lipped female says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:

       "Good round."

   

  Dropping down by her bag, the petite, green-lipped female sits down to rest.

   

  Jerking around, with a grin, you say to the petite, green-lipped female, in sirihish:

       "Oy.  Good round."

   

  Your new ldesc is:

  The ebon-skinned, matronly dwarf stands around with a blank expression.

   

  The ebon-skinned, matronly dwarf shuffles half way over to the padded wall, then stops, squinting at the ground.

   

  (Onyxi stands around for a while longer, then wanders distractedly off to chores.  Eventually she has a baby with Dregg, keeps it in the apartment, cannot bear to have another people around it because they might screw it up, becomes unplayable, and is returned to the virtual world.  I frequently picture her out there somewhere, in an apartment, raising babies.)

  This

  story has been edited to remove a lot of the superfluous spammy material,

  typographical errors, and things not directly related to the story.  Onyxi

  in brief:

   

  You are Onyxi, a

  Runner of the T'zai Byn.

  Keywords: ebon-skinned

  matronly dwarf

  Sdesc: the

  ebon-skinned,...

  
  Continue Reading...