“Ughh...” I moan, fighting off nausea, headache, and overall weakness, “Owww...” I add as a further explanation.
“He’s waking up, miss Scream!” says an overly enthusiastic voice, “Hey, boss. It’s me!” the voice counts under its breath, “...two… Three!”
Memories of what happened before my body shut down completely come flooding back, and my eyes shoot open.
A happy, beaming face, a worried, smaller face, and a twerking, golden butt greet me. I sit up, shoving my head through Scream’s jiggling plot.
“Boss, there’s something I need to tell-” Two opens her mouth.
”Rude,” the alicorn comments, turning around.
Without a word, I grab the drone who has been with me from the beginning, and whom I thought I’d never see again, and give him a crushing hug which makes him squeak. Three’s little legs flail a bit before locking around my barrel in response, and he nuzzles my neck.
“It’s really important, I caught-” Two tries again.
Must not cry.
Must not cry.
Must not cry.
Failing horribly. Can I at least try to avoid becoming a slobbering mess? Nope, doesn’t work either.
“Threeeeeeeee...”
“I caught a change-” and again.
I can’t see much over all the tears, but I can hear Three just fine when he says:
“I’m all solid again, boss. I lost my glowy spear tip, but that’s okay, because now my legs glow instead. It’s purple, though. Hmm...” I feel him shift in my embrace as he looks behind me where Scream must be standing, “Miss Scream, are there any settings on this body? Like can I change the glow to green?”
”No.”
“Or maybe make it change colors over time.”
”No.”
“I had something miss Eight called a Heart Swarming tree in my coloring book, and it was green with blinking lights all over. Can I do that? Like make each of the scribbles all over me look different?”
”No! And it’s Hearth’s Warming.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Is that some changeling holiday where we group up and-”
”NO! Dear black, hungry, empty darkness, please take me now!” I can practically hear the veins on Scream’s forehead throb.
“I caught a changeling!” Two manages to get herself ignored one more time.
Three turns his head around.
“We’re inside a really nice room, miss Scream. There’s no darkness here, but I can take you anywhere you want. I feel pretty strong. The boss and Two look really hungry, that’s true.”
“Scream’s head just exploded!” Two’s voice goes completely flat, knowing that she won’t be heard again, but she has to try.
“You’re the best Heart Swarming gift ever, Three,” I gently push him away, and look into the same smiling face that I remember, “And I officially declare this a changeling holiday.”
“There’s magma flowing through the tunnels, about to fry us...” says Two, “Almost here.”
“Aww, thank you, boss,” he scrunches his nose, and I feel love flow from him to myself, “And here you go, I’ve got enough.”
As the transfer finishes, making me feel a lot better, I see that the purple... runic symbols carved into Three’s chitin around his fetlocks, lower neck, and waist go a little dimmer.
“Ancient evil has awoken, set on devouring the world and only we can stop it...” says Two in a singsong voice now.
“Thanks, Three,” I pat his head, mentally probing his hive link which accepts me easily, “Speaking of purple stuff, Scream, what’s that all over Three?” I nod towards Three now sitting in front of me, and wipe my eyes.
The alicorn is now lying on her back on the soft bed, staring at the ceiling.
”Binding runes,” she sighs, ”I guess it’s time for a lecture then. The body you made for Three is a magical construct made using a derivative spell from the original conjuration I learned from the primal alicorn of Life millennia ago. Normally, these bodies are extremely tough, but the real ritual requires divine power rather than mundane materials and magic. Unfortunately for chatterbug here, you can’t handle my divinity, so I modified the original spell so that you could perform it without the godly part. The difference is that now if chatterbug pisses me off, I can throw him into a volcano and he won’t just crawl back out. In short, his new body is only a little more durable than a normal changeling one. If you noticed, the ritual needed chitin instead of raw divinity which it normally would, so it absorbed most of yours. Speaking of which, you now look as if you were made of rubber.”
I poke myself, and the unexpectedly soft layer of chitin gives in.
“I definitely feel like it, too. I’m not sure I should spend the love Three gave me on faster healing.”
”I’d advise against that,” Scream circles her hoof around, ”You see, these bodies need energy to keep going, and here’s where things become… unpredictable. I usually make these for an alicorn, which means they’ll never run out of power, and only stop working when destroyed. In the extremely rare cases when I made them for ponies, mostly unicorns, their natural magic was enough to keep them going unless they did something stupid. As for changelings who require external sources of raw energy as food… I don’t know how long this body will last. My theory is that chatterbug will need more love, because in addition to feeding himself, he’ll need some of the gained energy to keep the body and the binding spell going.”
I smile, but only to myself. Now this is something Scream doesn’t seem to know, but Three used to be this little, self-sufficient love generator. If it’s enough, I don’t know, but the red sun I see glowing inside him again doesn’t look weaker than before when he was still alive. In fact, he’s actually radiating a tiny amount of love which Two seems to be indirectly absorbing despite glaring at Three and frowning all this time.
Scream points to the center of the smudged magic focusing circle where a dim glass ball is now sitting.
”Well, we’ve managed to drain a Silversmith power crystal which must have lasted for over two thousand years in prime shape, so I suppose the ritual was a complete success. BUT, if chatterbug gets too annoying, I can shut the body off, and...” she trails off, her eyes going wide with horror, ”Oh no… what have I done?” she whispers, ”It doesn’t work like with pony souls...”
“Scream?” I raise an eyebrow at her sudden panic.
”Nothing!” she vanishes, ”Smart bug, magic kaboom training later!” are her lingering words, and then silence.
I’m far from complaining right now. Three’s back, Two’s okay but hungry, I’m alive despite feeling as if a dragon chewed me up and spat out.
Right, Two’s hungry. I strengthen my link to her, and send love her way, enough to fill her up. She can’t handle much, come to think of it. Judging from what Three transferred into me, even he can store vastly more love than Two.
“Thank you, boss,” Two takes a deep breath, stretching and relaxing.
“That’s my job, Two,” I give her a weary smile, “So, are both of you okay?”
“Mhm,” they both nod.
An idea comes to me.
“Hey, Three. I know you don’t have your spear tip anymore, so how about this?” I grab the dwarf king’s helmet, and put it on his head. It fits reasonably well, and from experience I know it’s really light for its toughness.
“Oh my hole, I’ve got a reserve head!” Three adjusts the piece of armor, brightening my day with another smile, “That’s WAY better than a spear bit, though I liked that one too. Thank you so much, boss.”
“That’s a helmet, Three, not a head.”
“I know, I know, boss. It’s a love helmet +3.”
“What? Is it magical or something?”
“Nope, it’s a helmet, I love it, and I’m wearing it,” he hops around, seeing whether the helmet stays on his head.
”King, may I ask something?” I hear Two’s quiet, and slightly annoyed for some reason, voice through the hive link. Did I miss something while slobbering all over Three?
”What’s wrong?”
”What use is a mentally damaged drone in this situation? We already are in an underground full of tunnels.”
”I can carry stuff or dig even more tunnels!” salutes Three, his hoof going ‘tink’ against the helmet, proving Two’s attempt at hiding her words from him failed miserably.
”Well, and?” Two presses on, switching to normal speech.
”I mean, I’m a drone. We dig and carry stuff,” Three smacks his hooves together, ”Oh, and I’m really good at infiltrating.”
Two raises an eyebrow.
“Now THAT I need to see.”
“He is, actually,” I nod, much to Two’s surprised look, “Although I wouldn’t try to copy him if I were you.”
“But… I mean...” Two’s shoulders slump, her ears splay back, and frown spreads on her face, “Rank three…? I’m Two, and I brought dwarves under your hoof, king...”
“Aww, don’t be sad,” Three walks over to Two, giving her a tight hug. The infiltrator resists, but can’t escape the embrace no matter what, so she eventually gives up with a scrunched nose, instead basking in the love constantly radiating from Three.
“Yeah, don’t bother with ranks here. Three’s Three only because his real rank was in hundred thousands, and even I can’t remember it, but there was three in it somewhere.”
“Oh? Oh!” Two tries to hide it, but I can feel relief from her through her link. Suddenly smiling, she pats Three’s head, and pushes him away.
“Better?” he asks.
“Definitely,” her smile fades immediately, “Stupid, stupid!” she smacks herself in the temple.
“I’m not that bad,” Three pouts.
“Not you, me!” Two stands up, looking me in the eyes, “Boss, I needed to see you in person. I caught a changeling!”
“W-What?” I stare at her, frozen for a second, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME SOONER?!”
“I can tell you three very specific reasons why you ignored all my attempts, boss,” she gives me a smug look while glancing my favorite drone’s way, but not after a quick facehoof.
“You win this round,” I admit, transforming back into the new dwarven queen.
“Nope,” Two’s good mood returns along with a cheeky grin as she shapeshifts into Hammer, “I just win.”
She trots out of the room with me and Three in tow.
“Those are some tiny earthponies,” says Three when a trio of bearded and heavily armored dwarves rush over to us as soon as we enter the tavern’s main floor, all eyes locked on the… undisguised Three. Thankfully, most of even the heaviest drinkers are already passed out due to the late time of the night.
“Umm, I-” I open my mouth when the leading dwarf guard barks:
“What is that?!” he points at Three.
“Imma dwarf!” answers the drone, “See? I’m a helmet plus Three.”
My jaw drops. Two facehoofs. He’s not even speaking dwarvish...
”Well… fucking… done...” Two growls through gritted teeth, ”I set everything up to get boss in charge, and now this...”
The dwarf narrows his eyes.
“And that?” he points at Three’s black chitin while the other two raise their forelegs with flamethrower nozzles attached to them.
To my complete horror, Three grabs the dwarf’s hoof, and pokes his chest with it.
“Armor, see? Fits a lot better than yours, although those deadly spikes on the back look really cool. Plus,” Three raises his hoof, making the dwarf back off a little, “It’s got mining lamps built in. I think I can make them change colors too, but I’ll figure out how later.”
The dwarf taps against Three’s chitin, tilts his head, then taps his chest again…
...then he takes his own helmet off, revealing that, in fact, he’s a she. The bushy, brown beard is fake, attached to her ears from the back via a set of wires invisible under the helmet.
She pulls out another fake, generic, brown beard from her saddlebag, and hangs it by Three’s ears. After examining her hoofwork, she nods, apparently satisfied.
“Long live the resistance against the traditional way of life, within respectable boundaries, of course!” she puts her helmet back on, and leaves along with the others back for their guard posts scattered over the tavern.
”How… why… what?” Two stutters out.
”Don’t ask.”
”But how…? He’s still a changeling… but with a helmet and a fake beard. I can see the wires...”
”Told you he was good at infiltrating.”
”AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!” Two storms out of the tavern.
With a shrug, Three follows.
“That small lady was nice. Do you think she wears the fake beard because she’s cold down here?”
I have learned long time ago not to argue with fate, I just wish Scream was around to witness this. I have yet to see an alicorn smash her head through a wall.
“Nah, my guess is that there’s a female rights movement within the dwarven king’s part of Brauheim who aren’t activists like Crumble who works for a change by persuading others, but who are already pretending to be stallions in order to be able to do what they really want to. These mares, however, are still more traditionalist than those loyal to the queen, which is why they’re still here. I think Granite was onto something regarding the real queen. If she really promised everyone everything will be great… then she reminds me of what Chrysalis told us before the Canterlot invasion. Food for everyone forever, happiness, no more pain, and we were just supposed to die while breaking the barrier so that big changelings didn’t waste energy or have to share afterwards.”
“I understood some of those words.”
“See, I knew you were smart, Three,” I answer absentmindedly, thinking about our current predicament.
“Yay!”
Two, stomping all the way, leads us to a nearby vault where the two guards salute, give Three a shocked look, and then let us in without a word.
”They KNOW he’s not a dwarf!” complains Two.
”Yep.”
”AAAAAH, THIS MAKES NO SENSE!”
”Yep.”
”If I tried to pull that off, they’d incinerate me.”
”Almost certainly.”
”Nah,” Three shakes his head, ”Most ponies are nice, and with these ones being so small, all the nice is even more concentrated.”
Two points at the door, which the dwarf standing by it unlocks, and she carefully opens the door, ready for anything. She breathes out when the only thing greeting her inside the inner vault is an unremarkable changeling drone lying on a pile of gold coins.
The drone is… physically genderless, but from the shape of its mind I think it’s closer to a male. His mental link is easy to sense, and he opens his eyes as I connect to him, confused about who’s intruding into his mind. He doesn’t feel damaged like Three, he’s just a simple, normal drone. Soon, I sense a third mind inside his, and realize it’s Two examining the drone just like I am. She’s working on pure infiltrator instinct, but she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Just like me, but even worse. If she uses force where she shouldn’t she can cause damage.
”Stop it, Two. That’s an order.”
She withdraws, leaving me and the drone alone inside his head. His rank is…
...Six?
“Your name is Six,” I say. The drone’s eyes go wide, but he nods, starting to shake when he glances Two’s way, “Why are you here?”
“I can’t say,” he croaks, “I really can’t. It’s something in my head.”
I dig deeper into his mind, eventually finding what he’s talking about.
”Hmm… a mental yet physical shield of sorts? It’s not of his making,” I dig through Two’s memories of finding and chasing Six, ”If he was an infiltrator who could do that then you wouldn’t find him so easily. Someone sent him to spy on the king, as he said… not us, the previous king.”
”I noticed the barrier too,” says Two, ”I can break through it.”
”Don’t!” I raise my mental voice at her, ”You’ll break in, but not without breaking him. I don’t want that.”
Six tries to push himself away when I walk over to him, and put a hoof on his broken leg. Thankfully, for us it’s different than for ponies, because of the exoskeleton. His flesh underneath the crack is torn, but the chitin is the main problem, which nonetheless heals quickly if enough love is applied. With ease, I take control of him, and help guide him through the process of self-healing.
When I’m done he’s still in pain, but as he moves the afflicted hind leg back and forth with an incredulous expression, he whispers:
“You’re a changeling.”
“So, you still can’t tell me anything?”
He shakes his head, suddenly desperate as he realizes that I can have Two torture him, and then force him to heal himself over and over. Huh, now here's a Chrysalis thought if ever I had one.
“I can’t, I swear! The thing in my head helps me stay undetected by the dwarves but I have to report personally-” he clutches his head, “I don’t know where, I don’t know to whom. I mean, I know, but I can’t say.”
“Alright, calm down,” I lower my voice, “You do understand that I can’t let you leave when I don’t know if you’re an enemy.”
Six nods, and I pat his head.
“Then stay here and recover,” I send a spark of love his way, which refills him completely, reassuring me that he really is only the most basic drone. His capacity is waaaaaay lower than Three’s or even Two’s, “If you try to escape, I’ll have to send someone after you, and consider you a threat.”
Six whimpers.
As we leave the prison vault, Two asks:
“Orders, boss?”
Hmmm… to be completely honest, I’m not sure.
“Let’s finally have some rest. I’m barely keeping my eyes open. If I think of something, I’ll let you know.”
We split up with Three at the tavern’s entrance, and several moments later, I’m back upstairs in my royal bed. To my surprise, Two hops onto the bed too, stands up above me for a moment, seemingly thinking about something, before she just curls up by my side, letting out a soft sigh before mumbling to herself:
“...damn Scream, screwing with my head. Wait, no- NO screwing right now, at all, cool down...”
“Goodnight, Two,” I hug my little spoon.
“Night, boss.”
”Goodnight, Three.”
”Sleep tight, boss. You too, Two.”
The little buggy is snoring already. It’s been an exhausting two days.
***
It’s next morning, I’m sitting downstairs in the tavern, nursing a mug of the strongest liquor the bartender offers, which is strengthening my reputation as the ultimate drinking champion, and thinking about what to do next. I’ve always been better at reacting to situations rather than making moves of my own, but I assume now that things are a little more stable, I should think about at least the nearest future.
So, what’s the overall goal?
To survive. If possible, in a better shape than we ‘survived’ under Chrysalis.
Some details?
I still don’t know what happened to Eight. Granted, Six being around likely means she’s involved somehow, unless there’s someone else I don’t know about. Eight is my first guess, though, seeing that she obviously did use Crumble to make more changelings. However, believing in potential invisible allies is a risk I can’t take.
What to do? What to do?
”Three, any problems with the dwarves?”
Ever since we split up yesterday, Three’s been mapping the mining tunnels under Brauheim, and when I woke up today, I’ve had access to a map of an incredible tunnel network leading into depths I’ve never seen before. However, there’s a level which the dwarves haven’t let Three into, no matter how nicely he asked, and that’s the maintenance floor directly below Brauheim where supposedly all the supporting infrastructure is. Kinda exactly the place I’d like to examine, but I might leave exploring that to Two.
”No, boss. They look at me funny, but I think I’ve infiltrated the city successfully.”
Near the royal dais, as I call it now, Hammer suddenly slams her face against the table.
”I’ve got a new job for you. How are your wings?”
”Ready and buzzing, boss!”
”Then I want you to start examining the air vents. I can’t help feeling something bad is about to happen, and I want an escape route to the surface.”
”Alright, boss. Where do you want me to start?”
”A place the dwarves called the grand chasm,” I send him the location of the big bridge. Come to think of it, I don’t know what’s on the other side. I should ask someone, ”There are air vents in the ceiling which look similar to the halls of Brauheim. I think there’s more to those than ventilation. I need to know if there are places where we can access those without flying, and overall anything interesting really.”
”I’ll finish off this shaft then, and I’ll head up afterwards.”
Knowing now how vast the mining tunnels are, that could take Three hours. On the other hole, I don’t need it fast. Having a complete underground map in case of trouble will prove invaluable.
Still… overall goal, overall goal…
Finding or making a place where we don’t have to pretend to be someone else to survive. Being well fed. Not having to run or hide in fear of retribution.
But how? Ponies already proved that’s impossible. We didn’t seek to hurt anyone, yet we had to defend ourselves over and over until they won.
So, if surface is out of the question, what about Brauheim itself? Dwarves do have some experience with changelings. Their reaction to Three can’t just be his natural charm. Granite knew what I was, and the dark priests have device specifically for recognizing us. The last thing could be a result of some of Eight’s failed infiltrations, but I don’t think so, that’s too many precautions in case of a single changeling. I know it crossed my mind before, but… yes, the changelings who supposedly formed a hive up north and all died during the big split and betrayal the hive rulers showed me. That happened ages ago, but who’s to say they didn’t have contacts with old dwarves, or even those… Silversmiths as Scream called them? Could it be that Six doesn’t belong to Eight, but to some descendants of the old changelings?
Unlikely, just from the rank. No, this is all too hypothetical. Let’s go back to the option of making our own place here.
Which means I’ll have to reveal who I am at some point. For that to go… if not smoothly then at least acceptably, I’ll need to make a positive mark on the dwarves, and eliminate threats. Granted, even if I do that it doesn’t mean they won’t just try to fry me immediately, but it might give me a chance to speak.
And here’s the sticking point - I can’t make my dream come true by force. Chrysalis tried, and look how it turned out.
The chair across the table moves and creaks, as Steelback sits down.
“I come with a warning, ‘boss’,” says the brown minotaur, the focused stare of his teal eyes boring into me.
“Not one to beat around the bush, are you?” I take a sip of my drink. Having instant access to explosive mixture is definitely an excellent secret weapon giving me some semblance of safety, “What’s wrong?”
“I thought about it, and talked with a friend who knows a little about dwarven history. Your yesterday showdown with the dark priest was just the beginning. I’d watch your back if I were you, or you might end facing something you can’t drink under the table,” he says, deadly serious.
“You mean like an assassin or something?”
“Assassins, sudden revolution, mob with torches and pitchforks, or in this case axes and flamethrowers,” Steelback nods, “You see, the dark priests steer the dwarves from the depths of their enclave, and the only reason rulers don’t have to seek their official approval is that if the clergy disapproves of them… well, it’s not hard to disappear in a mining accident.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the warning,” I rub my chin, “Say, the dark priest was originally mad about the queen. How come she hasn’t disappeared yet then? And… come to think of it, you’re the Rift ambassador, do the dwarves let you move freely through the barricades and guard posts?”
“Not freely, but yes, they do,” he nods, “As for the real queen, I don’t know. My best guess is that the desire for a change she woke up in the dwarves is enough for dark priests to rethink any direct action,” he shrugs, “Or they already tried and failed. From what I found out during my briefing after I came back, she’s been ruling the bigger part of Brauheim for over a year, and she’s still solid in her position. I think the dark priests will be your problem because you’re the weaker target. If I were in their position, I’d get rid of you and install some puppet king who wouldn’t be too progressive. Afterwards I’d support the king’s efforts to retake entire Brauheim.”
“Sounds like you thought about it a lot. I don’t know whether to be happy you’re warning me, or worried even about you.”
“That’s just diplomacy in a nutshell,” Steelback shrugs, “If there isn’t anypony to talk to, you have to make somepony. Right now, I’m on your side, and considering that I owe you my life, I’ll resign if ever I’m instructed to threaten yours. I’m still a minotaur over a diplomat, I take my debts seriously. As I said, be careful about the dark priests, and the queen’s spies. Somepony is bound to start looking around once she hears about a second queen.”
Someone already has. Is there a connection? Possibly. No way to figure it out yet without irrevocably harming Six. Speaking of which, can I connect to him? Huh…?
Huuuuuh…
I CAN.
A quick peek through half-open eye reveals that Six is still lying on pile, sleeping. He doesn’t react at all to my intrusion, and nothing suggest he even noticed. The anti-detection shield works similar to how Three’s method works, it’s just much less delicate. Someone without much capability for mind tricks made this method up, which definitely adds a point to the Eight theory.
“Hey, big guy,” announces a cheery, female voice followed by another chair moving, “Queen.”
“Good morning, Crumble,” nods Steelback.
“Morning,” I greet the arriving dwarf as well, “Let me guess, more news about things that will eventually bite me in the ass?”
“Besides rumors of a changeling wearing a fake beard and one-of-a-kind istrium helmet walking around Brauheim?” Crumble raises an eyebrow.
“Don’t worry about that one. That’s Three, and he’s harmless. He likes stories, so if you want someone to talk to, and don’t mind explaining the longer words, he’s your ling.”
Crumble looks as if she’s really thinking about it. Terrifying in a way.
“I don’t mind at all now that I know he’s one of… yours, but do you think it’s wise to let him walk around like that? I mean, the beard is obviously fake. You can even see the wires.”
“Did you see anyone trying something?”
“Well, no,” she admits, “I think I saw him help an old lady haul a broken cart away, but still...”
“Then he’ll be fine,” I wave my hoof, “I mean, he got the beard from a mare pretending to be a stallion in the first place.”
“Ooooh...” Crumble smiles, “The iron roses. I can help you with them.”
“Do… I need help with them?”
“Which smoothly brings us to what I wanted to talk to you about,” Crumble crosses her forelegs on the table, “I saw a dark priest talking to miners down in my shaft yesterday, and what he said wasn’t too flattering.”
I look at Steelback who crosses his hands on his chest, smiling, then back at Crumble.
“Can’t say I’m surprised,” I sigh, “but I thought a lot of dwarves wanted change.”
Crumble bites her lip.
“They do, but they want to remain dwarves, and being a dwarf is more than just being the right size and living your whole life underground. There are habits, rituals, connection to the safe darkness, things surface species don’t understand.”
I think I do, though. It’s the feeling of being at home, which I haven’t felt ever since I left the hive, it’s the instinct screaming at me that walls should be black, there should be cocoons on the ceiling, and goo crystals should be lining the walls, faintly illuminating the darkness. Maybe someday later.
Well, as I said before, force is out of the question. However, just like Granite supported me in return for armor decorations, let’s see if there’s something I can use to bribe dwarves with.
“Crumble, you know Brauheim, and you know what dwarves want. What can I promise to everyone that would make them support me instead of the dark priests?” I ask.
“Herein lies the problem, boss,” she circles her hoof on the table, “Different groups want different things, and things some groups want offend other groups. It’s up to you to decide what you’ll allow and what you won’t, and balance it against dark priests.”
An idea comes to mind.
“Maybe not necessarily.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if I say that anyone can do whatever they want, they think I’m the same as the real queen, and dark priests will hate me as much as her, right?” both Steelback and Crumble nod, “Then how about I give the dwarves a chance to raise their concerns without fear of retribution, and then discuss them among themselves. That way they can possibly come to a compromise, and the dark priests won’t be able to rile an unrepresented group against me, right?”
“That is a very… optimistic view,” says Steelback carefully, “but it’s a good idea. Dark priests will hate it, you can be sure of that.”
“Then maybe we can get one to speak at the gathering-”
“Nope!” Crumble shakes her head resolutely, “Dwarves will be too scared to speak up if a dark priest is directly involved.”
I grin. Now, what if we simply make the dark priests show their cards?
“Crumble, can you think of dwarves representing certain groups with different ideas about life, and gather them here? I want Granite to be among them, and you too, of course. Find as many as you can. If this works out, we’ll get others soon. Oh yeah, and you too, Steelback, as the minotaur ambassador. I’m gonna need you to raise a trade offer that no dwarf in their right mind would ever accept.”
“I can do that,” the minotaur stares at me, as if trying to read the plan from my brain. Joke’s on him, though, there IS no complete plan!
“What if you can’t avoid the fireworks?” she asks, shooting a worried glance over her shoulder at Two.
I shrug.
“Last time, Two made a dark priest do a backflip in the air. If worst comes to worst, we'll see if she can top that.”