Shadewell Shenanigans Read Online Free Page B

arrogance peculiar to the barbarian class. “Where’d them goblins go?”
    “I’ve killed them all,” Gordo admitted, indicating the pile of bodies around his rock. “And before you ask, no, I haven’t scalped you any hair.”
    “I’ll get an ’an’ful, meself.”
    “Forget the wig, Groan; smooth’s a good look for you.” The dwarf grinned encouragingly. Then he jumped down off the rock and removed the cracked iron helmet that had practically been hammered into his skull by goblin blades. “I see your brother’s doing well.”
    Groan peered across the arena floor, and cursed. “’ginner’s luck,” he said.
    “I doubt that,” Gordo replied, rapping on the helmet to see if he needed a new one. “Let’s face it, Groan, he’s every bit the warrior you are, and those swords of his are more than a match for both our weapons combined. They hum, Groan. You don’t even see the damn things until they’re sticking in your chest!”
    “Yeah,” Groan agreed thoughtfully. “Maybe you should fight wiv ’im for a bit; give me a chance.”
    “I’ll ignore that,” Gordo said, drawing in a long breath. “Still, it’s a pity it’s come to this. You two used to get on fine before … well, you know. Women, eh? More trouble than they’re worth. I reckon you should just let this one go …”
    “No way.”
    Groan flexed his jostling muscles and straightened up. At seven feet tall, he was a sight to behold. Then again, Gordo reflected, so was his half brother. In fact, the only noticeable physical difference between them, apart from an inch or two of height, was Groan’s inordinate lack of hair and his brother’s profuse abundance of it. Mentally, however, they were a world apart.
    The dwarf finished toying with his helmet and discarded it. Then he raised his stout battle-axe to signal to the royal audience that their fight was over.
    The distant shape of King Phew, High Lord of Phlegm, got to its feet and began to applaud. The rest of the crowd soon joined in, but a second burst of applause announced an even greater victory for the junior Teethgrit. To the delight of the crowd, Gape had stacked all the ogre arms in an amusing pyramid and was bowling a goblin skull at them.
    “Pathetic,” Gordo grumbled. “Absolutely pathetic. Look at him parading up and down as if he’s the Duke of Dullitch. Makes me sick.”
    Groan nodded his head to one side. “I don’t reckon’ they should let ’im ’ave them swords.”
    “Oh, don’t be an idiot!” Gordo muttered, beginning the long walk back to the podium. “If they ban his swords from the arena, then they’d sure as hell ban me. In fact, while we’re on the subject, I don’t even know what I’m doing here; remind me again?”
    “Friendship,” Groan barked. “’Sides, I came wiv you when you went to fight that bloke what took all them kiddies outta Dullitch.”
    Gordo rounded on his friend like an angry dog. “Ha! You were in that for the gold, Groan Teethgrit. Don’t even try to deny it.”
    “Yeah, well, you’re probably in this for the, for the, for the—”
    “Goblin snot?”
    “No, I was gonna say ‘fun.’”
    “Fun? Fun?! You’ve got to be joking. What’s fun about wrestling slaves, killing ogres, and jumping giant mantraps?”
    Groan shrugged. “’S a laugh, innit?” he said. “You know, ’venture in forgotten lands an’ all.”
    “Forgotten lands?” Gordo boggled at him. “We’re in Phlegm.”
    “Yeah, well. You know what I mean.”
    Gordo came to a sudden halt, so sudden in fact that Groan almost walked right over him.
    “Listen,” the dwarf began, stepping back from his partner and raising an eyebrow, “is she really worth all this?”
    “How d’you mean?”
    “It’s simple. I’m asking you if, after a single date, you can be truly, head over heels, one hundred percent in love with this princess?”
    “Yeah, I am.”
    Gordo heaved a sigh. “What is it about her that makes you so sure that she’s the