Short story: The daily fortunes and misfortunes of the Untitled Start-Up Adventuring Company
‘“The Blade of Rel! The Blade of Rel!” Tis no jest, meine Freunde , he went on and on about it! Screeching from the top of his lungs!’ the dwarf banged his tankard on the table and the patrons of the Tap recoiled. ‘Horseshite!’ shouted Pascal the proprietor from behind his counter. Karl Gruber tapped his fingers on the pommel of the flame-bladed sword as he snarled his riposte: ‘Mock me if you will, the matter came to pass exactly as I told it to you! I have the sword to prove it, have I not?’ ‘I reckon you couldn’t decide on splitting the loot, so you split his skull!’ Pascal roared and immediately laughter rolled through the establishment. ‘Take me for a backstabber do you, du Fettsack? ’ Karl rose, blade in hand, and the laughter quickly faded. A few seconds of silence followed, and just before Pascal could open his mouth to calm the dwarf, Karl continued, ‘Well, it’ll be the only truth you ever told!’ and the laughter returned as quickly as it had stopped. Of course...
