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Runaway Dwarves; The Adventures of Gilre and Yilgo



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Fri Mar 09, 2012 6:07 am
tgirly says...



Gilre knew Yilgo didn't realize it yet, but Gilre knew Yilgo would be the perfect leader. He might not have been the best speaker, but he was quick-witted yet strategic, or at least he had more common sense than she did. After all, he had been the one to get all the dwarves out of the barrels, hadn't he?
Now the dwarves were calling for revenge and Yilgo found himself forced to lead a band of angry dwarves with no bloodlust of his own. Gilre made her way through the crowd towards her brother. He was relieved to see her. He bent down and whispered in her ear.
"Gilre, as soon as possible, let's get out of here and head home," he said.
"I don't think there's room for everyone at our house," Gilre said, misunderstanding him, "but we do have to get out of here soon before the rest come back."
"The rest?" Yilgo asked, frowning, "what do you mean the rest?"
"I'm guessing there's at least ten more by the amount of baggage they have," Gilre said, gesturing to the large backpacks surrounding a burned-out campfire. Overhearing their conversation, a large dwarf barked, "we can take 'em!" Everyone cheered. Yilgo looked exasperated.
"Good luck, Yilgo," Gilre said, and drifted back into the crowd, letting her brother lead the group. As she glanced back of her overwhelmed, out of place brother, she felt a sense of pride. Of course, it wasn't exactly his choice to lead the group, but still.
When I was young, I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people.
-Abraham Joshua Heschel





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Sun Mar 25, 2012 8:17 pm
Mjdwrite says...



Yilgo backed up slowly, trying to escape the desperate dwarves, but he surrounded by faces and cylindrical wood, tripped, falling on his butt in the dirt. I can't lead! I have never left my daily routine since I was a small child! Suddenly Yilgo remembered the day his father died. He was a young man to father two small dwarflings. Yilgo wandered around the house while his neighbor cared for his father.

"Will Father be alright Yilgo?" Gilre, hardly able to read, was able to understand the vastness of the situation.

"Yes. I think." Yilgo patted her head and tinkered with his train.

Mrs. Trionte stepped out of the condemned room and whispered, "Yilgo, would you come here for a moment. Your father would like to speak with you."

Yilgo put down his tools and toys and walked briskly to her side. She took him in and he saw his father lying on the couch, a pale, dented pearl instead of a face. He had lost the bright rosy cheeks which Yilgo knew so well. Yilgo stepped more slowly to his father's side. He did not know this was the last conversation he would have with his father.

"Yilgo. I am sorry, but I will have to leave you for a little while. Mrs. Trionte will watch over you until you are big enough to watch yourself." Father coughed a few times and laid back to catch his breath. "Take care of Gilre. Do everything to your best ability. When you grow older and gain responsibilities, don't let those who depend on you down. You will be the man of the house for a while. Take care of Gilre."

The repetition of the last sentence gave just enough emphasis to remind Yilgo to shelter her from any harm for the rest of her life and now that he was standing in front of all of these dwarves who depended on him, he was determined to carry out his father's wishes. He would not let them down. He would take care of Gilre.

Yilgo jumped up with a shout. The crowd was silent. "Listen here folks. I need everyone to spread out step away from the barrels." Yilgo picked out five men and had them help him arrange the barrels into the shape they were. "Now. Does anyone know how to get back to their place of residence?" No one raised their hands. "Alright then. We have work to do."


*Sorry it is very long.*
"It is perfectly okay to write garbage – as long as you edit brilliantly" C.J. Cherryh





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Thu Mar 29, 2012 3:58 am
tgirly says...



*No, it's perfect. Sorry mine will most likely be short.*
Gilre
Yilgo took charge, like Gilre knew he would, and started organizing the dwarves. Gilre wanted to watch her brother take on this new role and rise to the occasion, but a small dwarf, no more than a child, even in human years, needed her attention and care. She held the little boy's hand and helped him find his mother, who was frantically looking for him on the other side of the crowd. Once that was over and the mother and son were reunited, sending pangs of regret as Gilre thought of her own mother, Gilre turned her attention back to her brother to see what he would do next.
Yilgo was still getting all the dwarves organized and planning their next move, and Gilre didn't want to be in the way, so she skipped off for a little walk.
Reaching the crest of the first hill, she could see much farther than she could down by the barrles. Here, to her delight, she could see that the mountains were much closer, just a few dozen miles and she'd be there. Her heart skipped a beat with excitement; she'd forgotten all about her quest. Gilre swept her gaze over the closer landscaping, plotting out what would be the best, path through the rolling hills to the tall, spiky mountains. As her gaze wandered, she saw tiny black dots rounding the tip of a hill far off, coming from the direction of the mountains. They would probably pass the dwarves' shelter around dusk. She couldn't tell who the figures were, no what they were, nor how many, but she feared they might be upset to find the dwarves escaped. She jogged back down as fast as her short legs would take her without rolling down the hill to report to Yilgo. How exciting, she thought, Yilgo and the other dwarves will be so pleased. Just proves, you go out to find adventure, and adventure will start finding you!
When I was young, I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people.
-Abraham Joshua Heschel





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Sat Apr 14, 2012 3:30 am
Mjdwrite says...



Yilgo had just finished arranging the barrels to look as close as by his estimate as when they had been left there when Gilre ran full speed straight at him, knocking him down once more. "YILGO!! There is a band of strangers headed towards us and they are moving fairly quickly! We need a plan." Gilre pounded a fist on the nearest barrel on 'plan'. Her face was red and her breath was shallow. Yilgo made her sit down with him and he pondered the options.

Suddenly Gilre jumped up and shouted, "We need to move! We can't sit and think! We need to do something!" Yilgo stood up. He could not come up with any solutions. Gilre looked to him for direction but when he failed her expectations she took the lead.

"Alright folks. We have trees and barrels. Is that it?" A few ladies stepped forward with their purses that they managed to hold onto when they were captured. Inside the purses Gilre found knitting needles, yarn, money, two unmatched children's shoes, four books, a few writing utensils, a few eating utensils, and journals. Gilre gathered all of the supplies, 10 able women, and 11 barrels with salvageable tops.

"Men, those of you who can and will fight, would you be so kind as to hide in the nearby bushes ready to pounce? Everyone else huddle up about 200 paces into the woods? Thank you!" Everyone took their places and waited. Yilgo watched from a rosewood bush as his baby sister's plan unfolded.

A group of (insert your choice of creature here), decked in all natural colors to blend with their surroundings, rounded the top of the hill, unaware of the ambush waiting for them. The group came down the hill to the barrels and turned to face the outside. There were a good twenty to thirty of them. There was absolute silence when out of nowhere, Gilre and her fellow helpers removed to tops of their barrels and pounced on the unsuspecting guards. They each wacked them over the head with their own weapons or held them back with their needles. Yilgo and all of the men attacked the strangers and helped the women tie them up quickly with the yarn.

Yilgo thanked Gilre for her incredible bravery and intelligence and then tried to help her interrogate their new prisoners.
"It is perfectly okay to write garbage – as long as you edit brilliantly" C.J. Cherryh





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Mon Apr 16, 2012 1:51 am
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tgirly says...



Gilre-
Gilre, slightly dissapointed that her brother wasn't taking the reigns, decided it was time for her to take some control as well. Quickly making a plan and grouping the dwarves, Gilre was surprised when her plan actually worked. She went to find her brother, her face beaming with pride.
"So, now what should we do with all these trolls?" Gilre asked Yilgo, who shrugged.
"Interrogate them, I guess," he said. Gilre nodded and turned back to the trolls. As they made there way toward the nearest one, a piercing scream ripped through the air. She turned to see one of the trolls had stabbed one of the dwarf women with a hidden blade the men hadn't confiscated. The women fell to the ground, and the troll was quickly pulled back and tied to the nearest tree. Gilre rushed to the fallen dwarf.
"What's your name, Miss?" Gilre asked the wounded dwarf.
"Zi'Ddara," the woman whispered, clutching her stomach where she'd been stabbed, "may I hold your hand, deary?" Gilre obliged. The old dwarf, silvery hair pulled back, coughed.
"You're a brave little one," Zi'Ddara croaked, "aren't you?"
"Yes, ma'am," Gilre said, "and so is my brother." Zi'Ddara gave another frail cough, but didn't let go of her vice grip on Gilre's hand.
"Could you give this to my grand daughter, young one?" Zi'Ddara said, handing Gilre a package wrapped in crinkly brown paper, "she lives in the distant mountains."
"Well why can't you just give it to her?" Gilre said, taking the package, "you're going to be fine. Just fine." The old lady laughed, which turned into another cough, then layed her head back down. Tears brimmed and spilled from Gilre's eyes, but she was able to hold back her flood of grief just long enough to close the old lady's eyes.
When I was young, I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people.
-Abraham Joshua Heschel





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Tue Apr 17, 2012 4:23 am
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Mjdwrite says...



Yilgo heard the scream only a millisecond after Gilre but she was already running when he heard it. Yilgo's eyes picked out the weapon and he charged at the lumbering troll. He pushed him back until he wouldn't go any further, on account of the tree he had run into, and held him there until other dwarves could tie him up properly. Yilgo snatched the knife from the huge hands and gave the ugly face as evil of a glare manageable, which was not incredibly intimidating.

Yilgo turned away, the knife in his hand, to see Gilre holding tightly onto the victim of the troll's heinous crime. Gilre sat still and whispered quietly to the old dwarf until the hacking cough was stilled. Once the group realized that they had their first casualty, Gilre's shoulder's could be seen bobbing up and down and her muffled voice trying to stay quiet in the poor woman's blouse. Yilgo walked over to her side, knelt down, and cried with his sister, hugging her shoulders tightly. It would not be the worst to come.

Yilgo grieved for just a moment and then whispered, "If we sit here, she won't be the only one. We have to do something and move on." He stood quietly and returned to the nearest troll. Gilre looked towards a few others in the group, a silent request for help with the body.

"You sir. What is the meaning of your attack on all of us?" The troll looked up at Yilgo with his two eyes, though it appeared to be more with all of his moles, bruises, and warts, with the look of a Greek man expected to teach Russian children in a gathering of Japanese women. In other words, he was beyond being confused. Yilgo tried the the absolute foreign language fail safe. Try being louder. "WHY DID YOU ATTACK US?"

Suddenly the troll did not look half as scary as before and one could swear they saw a small tear in the corner of his left eye. Spoken only like a troll can, the creature started babbling a most annoying fashion. "Houw shou twinso sallio twai kiosot youbabi tois!" Then, as more and more of the trolls began whining along with him, he changed his useless speech into a chant. "Troita yullik jouk, troita yullik jouk!" Then all of the other trolls joined in.

Yilgo, panicking for his sanity, threw the hand with the knife in it up in the air. This caused the trolls to should louder. Yilgo brought it down and examined it. On it were runes and symbols of all sorts. It must have been from the leader. He was still there, tied to his tree. Now to see if he knew dwarfese.
"It is perfectly okay to write garbage – as long as you edit brilliantly" C.J. Cherryh





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Tue May 15, 2012 10:42 pm
tgirly says...



Gilre-
"If we sit her, she won't be the only one. We have to do something and move on," Yilgo said, but I jerked his hand off my shoulder, wanting to mourn alone. I didn't let go of the Zi'Ddara's hand until a group of dwarves picked her up to be buried in the grave they had made. Another dwarf came over and handed me a cloth and I wiped my eyes. The trolls were all chanting some sort of babble at Yilgo, who seemed equal parts frusrated and panicy.
"Why don't we just leave all these stupid trolls here and get a move on?" I asked Yilgo.
"And where are we supposed to go?" he snapped.
"To the mountains," I said. Yilgo walked up to the troll tied to the tree. I kept my distance.
"Do you speak dwarfese?" Yilgo asked. The troll mumbled something that Gilre couldn't make out, but it sounded like an affirmative.
"Why did you attack us?" Yilgo asked.
When I was young, I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people.
-Abraham Joshua Heschel





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Sun Jun 03, 2012 6:03 am
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Mjdwrite says...



Yilgo stood near the tree with his back to the majority of the group, fingering the knife in his left hand still, his focus on his prisoner who was about to turn the tables. "Why did you attack us?"

The troll stared into Yilgo's eyes, boring deep holes in his brain. Yilgo blinked and shook his head to try to shake the feeling of drills being placed in his eyes and cranked at full speed. "Why did you attack us?"

The troll raised his chin and stood as straight as the tree would allow and said in a heavy accent, "My name is Triianso, the leader of this clan from the tribe over the mountain. I am not a beast or a wild animal and I will not be held as a diminutive dog being commanded to 'fetch'. What is your name stranger and what is your business in the valley of the elves?"

His breath taken for but a moment, Yilgo stepped away from this articulate troll. "Um, Triianso, I apologize for treating you the way that we have but I must say that it was mighty beastly of you to put us in those awful barrels to begin with. I am Yilgo... from... the village where I live with my sister and all of the other dwarves... near me. All of us where captured doing our business and brought here and then put us in these barrels. Now, why are you here?"

"We were following orders given to us b-" Triianso looked as though he was prepared to tell everything but he stopped mid-word and hung his head, the shaggy brown hair sliding out of the way to real for but a moment, a rune on the back of Yilgo's head that started to take of a reflection or soft glow.

"Who gave you these orders? WHO GAVE THE ORDERS?" Yilgo's temper ran rampant again as he demanded an answer from Triianso. "Wake up man and tell me!"

Triianso's head bobbed once and then he raised his head, his hair giving way to his face. His eyes were no longer a pupil and the white; it was a lime green with purple accents on the edges and smudging out from where the pupil would have been. The head went up completely and was partially directed toward Yilgo. Yilgo resisted using his girly scream and simply gave a type of wow instead, which caused the runed knife to fall to the grass below. Yilgo heard the thud but before he could look down others screamed and yelped, giving sight to the muted trolls with the same eyes as their leader. Yilgo took a step to investigate but stopped when he realized the best clue would be the knife on the ground which was now glowing bright and steady on each rune's carving.
"It is perfectly okay to write garbage – as long as you edit brilliantly" C.J. Cherryh





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Sun Jun 03, 2012 5:55 pm
tgirly says...



Gilre-
I felt a deep trembling inside of me as I beheld the ghastly eyes of the trolls. Normally at such an instance, I would have screamed with the other trolls and hidden behind Yilgo. But this was not anywhere near normal. Clenching my fists, I stood firm.
Yilgo reached for the dagger on the ground. An eery glow emanated from it and seemed to reach for Yilgo's hand as much as he for it.
"Yilgo, don't," I shrieked. He pulled his hand back and turned towards me, raising a bushy eyebrow.
"You can't just touch something like that," I said. I kicked the handle with my boot and it made a cold, hissing sound. The grass it had fallen on was scorched. Gilre looked toward her brother, almost afraid that he'd have the same unnatural eyes as the trolls. His eyes were still his; dark green and calming, like their father's had been.
"Do we have any water? We could try dousing it," Gilre suggested.
When I was young, I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people.
-Abraham Joshua Heschel





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Thu Jun 06, 2013 5:32 pm
Mjdwrite says...



Yilgo jumped back from the glowing dagger and the burnt grass. The runes were burning and every troll had a rune glowing on the back of the necks. Gilre ran to the top of the hill from whence the trolls came in search of water.

Yilgo stepped around the cursed knife and examined the slumped over body of Triianso. He ran a finger over the back of his neck, first tracing around the rune and the tracing the rune. It was hot, hotter than skin but not as hot as the knife proved to be. The glow was a bright, steady green, matching the veins on the edges of the trolls' eyes.

Gilre reached the top of the hill and shouted for a barrel to be brought up for water. Yilgo stepped back to try to understand the big picture with the trolls and their curious death but he did not look where he was stepping and felt a warmth under his hairy left foot. He looked down to see the knife sharing its runes with him. The runes seemed to crawl off the knife and slither up his leg like warm spaghetti.

"Gilre, no! We don't need water. The knife isn't hot anymore! Only warm!" Yilgo bent down and picked up the knife. All of a sudden, voices started swarming in his head, whispers sounding like suffering demons. He shook his head but the voices only grew in volume and chaos. He could see Gilre running towards him and several other dwarves mouthing words but not a word could be heard over the din of the whispers. He looked at his leg where the runes had made their home and some them squiggling still and glowing more blue than green.

The voices were louder than any explosion in the mines. They continued on but above the noise, one voice stood out. Yilgo had to focus all of his concentration on the voice, blocking out Gilre and the others depending on him to lead them home.

"Are you listening dwarf?" even in the confusion, the voice laced 'dwarf' with hate. "You bumbling creature can't even make it through your own mind at a normal pace! Now listen to every word I say."
"It is perfectly okay to write garbage – as long as you edit brilliantly" C.J. Cherryh








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