𝖄𝙚𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙛𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝖁𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙜 ᴀ ғʀᴀɢᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏғ #ᴇᴍᴇʀᴀʟᴅʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ

What of them, uh?

The bard might be the first big bag of bones that he is actually fond of Dwarves—the thought alone stole a chuckle from Haur.

✵. I’m gonna establish my Dijkstra tomorrow but you can find him on DIJKSTRA..

Glad to know that there’s still hope for them to all co-exist some day, without animosity or hatred. Dwarves certainly know how to make people entertained—and with their bellies full. They are quite the cooks && singers when drunk.

Blonde Peach.

Fuck me.

The fuck are you doin’ this early!? Plottin’ to burn kingdoms to the ground?

His favorite blonde witch.

✵. How does one summons ships here because I want Haur to finally have a happy ending?

DILF Gux, according to some sorceress.

I’m so fuckin’ tired—where’s the mead?

Where the fuck are my pals!?

Still the Blond Peach, I see.

Short nod in her direction, a horned-cup now in his hand. “Thanks, bard,” responded the Dwarf in his mother tongue.

Rubs belly and then burps. “’m back, Temeria.”

✵. Back and ready to write some stuff. Give me connections and ships, please and thank you!

Give the lass Dwarven mead, not that piss drink that you call vodka.

Damned be this shittiest mead.