“I need a proper axe,” you dismissed the talking haft, “and I didn't promise you anything else anyway.”

A strident shrill followed. A damned, uncanny weight—abnormal in its strength—pressed upon the floor of the waggon, gushing bursts of dust and kindling into the open air. The axe-haft violently lurched, cracking the surface. You leapt inside as the waggon wavered and budged. You broke off a Black Horn twig and, before it was too late, you smacked the haft with the heavy end of its branch, sending it skidding against the square-built wall.

Catching your breath—pointing your branch towards the miscreant—you said with an angry voice, “If you break the waggon I’m not doing -anything- for you. I will just leave you here!”

The haft trembled, failing its attempt to turn from its side. “It does not belong to you! It is neither yours nor dwarf’s to possess! You, do not dare to call it an ‘axe’! It is my like your arms, it is part of myself! Bring it to-”

“I am -not- bringing it to life,” you said. “I’ll bring you to the tree, and that’s all, as a thank you for finishing the beast.” You spat out, climbing out of the waggon, your eyes watching the haft, “However, if you are going to act like an ass, I’ll leave you. I know you can’t ‘move’, so you’ll just stay on the ground, for a long-long time.”

You closed the door before it could slither a response. You sighed. How do the elves deal with such imbecilic creatures? Do they treat them like royalty? They’re lucky if every single one of them is pleasant and kind.

*** *** ***

An hour later Carinda awoke. You greeted her with a lousy breakfast of cold ham, cold cheese, and bread—it would’ve been better if you could hold it a couple of minutes above flaming ashes. Still, she enjoyed it.

You told her about the passing men-at-arms and warned her about the axe-haft. She echoed one of the knight’s words: you, she said in particular, should have had enough of dealing with monsters. Carinda begrudgingly admitted she was in no condition to travel the jammed tunnels of the Quarry and asked that you leave it to the knights. There were many other things you had to deal with, so you agreed with her.

Your arrival to the Quarry was met with less grandeur: Carinda, the only dwarf in those districts, was already a common sight, and you no longer had Tetreus to attract the crowd. The trio should’ve arrived by now, and three royal men-at-arms held more fascination than just one; especially when those three actually arrived to help. Your waggon passed the gates; rested ponies walked the roads with much vigour.