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Out of Nowhere by Patrick LeClerc.
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Girl Talk

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“Have you no shame?”

“Sorry?” Khyreth turned to regard the dwarf woman who was sitting at the bar a little ways further down. “I don’t quite get your meaning.”

“Your get up, halfling,” responded the dwarf eying Khyreth with disdain. “Why bother wearing clothes at all?”

 “First off dwarf, my name is Khyreth. Second this get up is armor,” she said indicating the studded leather slip that covered the essentials while leaving little to the imagination.

“Vharra.”

“Sorry, I don’t speak dwarf, dwarf.”

“My name is Vharra,” replied the dwarf. “So Khyreth, explain to me how that is armor.”

“You mean aside from covering up what you ‘civilized folk’ consider indecent? It turns a blade quite nicely if it slips through my defenses.”

“By defenses you mean distraction.”

“Anyone distracted by this,” Khyreth indicated her nubile, athletic figure, “would be dead way too quickly in a real fight to be much of an opponent.”

“True,” replied the dwarf. “So what do you mean?”

“Speed and agility mostly, the ability to parry with my blade and block with my shield,” replied the tiny redhead as she leaned in a little closer. “Plus I have no issue taking the occasional hit.”

“What are you inferring,” growled Vharra.

In response the halfling just grinned and indicated the bronze plate and chain that encased the dwarf in metallic protection.

“This,” Vharra knocked on the breastplate for emphasis, “is armor. That is just provocative. Everyone in this inn is stealing glances at you.”

“Oh my, whatever shall I do?” she sarcastically responded. “Grown men staring at something with tits and curves that just so happens to be showing some skin. It must be the end of the world as we know it,” laughed the halfling as she posed dramatically.

“You love the attention, don’t you?” Vharra shook her head after finishing her drink. “Decided which one you’re going to mount tonight?”

“You presume much, having just met me.” Khyreth motioned for two more drinks from the barkeep. “Besides, everyone here is actually stealing glances at you.”

“Me,” scoffed the dwarf. “How do you figure?”

“One, they’re trying to figure out where your beard is. Two, you have left stuff to the imagination girlie,” Khyreth replied as she tousled Vharra’s close cropped chestnut locks. “These guys are curious to know if you fill up those cups, what kind of curves you have hidden under that shell and most importantly whether this,” the halfling patted Vharra’s armored skirt for emphasis, “is where your beard is hiding.”

Vharra’s mouth gaped open in shock as she stared at Khyreth.

“Now that I’ve seen a dwarf blush I can die a happy girl,” laughed the halfling.  Unfortunately she was too caught up in her joke to react to Vharra’s fist before it smashed into her mouth and spilling her to the ground.

“Speed only works if you can see the blow coming bitch,” retorted the dwarf over Khyreths now prone form.

Not missing a beat and still laughing the halfling kicked Vharra’s legs out from under her. “Told ya I can take a hit!” she screamed as she rolled onto her feet before pouncing on the dwarf and raining blows upon her unprotected face. “Your armor only works if it’s covering where I’m hitting!”

By this point one of the men in the inn yelled fight and a makeshift ring formed around the brawling women as all the men in the common room started to gather around calling out bets. In no time the rowdy scene turned lascivious.

Vharra recovered and was able to heave Khyreth up just enough to put her legs between them. With a grunt she launched the halfling off of her and sat up as her opponent disappeared into the crowd a few yards away.

Khyreth rolled forward into crouch as she re entered the ring of jeering men wiping blood from her face with a spectator’s cloak.

Vharra spat blood to the side as she stood eying her opponent warily. Both women circled each other cautiously looking for an opening to exploit.

After a minute or two of this the guys started to get impatient, calling for more blood and violence.

“Why are we doing this?” asked Vharra.

“Pleasure,” stated the halfling matter of factly through her bloodied grin.

“Who’s though?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really,” replied the dwarf with a shrug, “but I’d enjoy drinking more.”

“It is less painful,” replied Khyreth. “And I think we both proved our respective points. Two more bar keep!” she cried over the collective groan of the men. “Show’s over boys, unless one of you want to try your luck,” she growled with a wink.

With that the crowd dispersed back to their tables, mumbling under their breath and into their mugs.

“Men,” scoffed Vharra, “so easy to cow.”

“It’s what makes them so much fun to mess with.”

Both women sat back down at the bar for a few minutes nursing their bruises and their mugs in silence.

“I blame shoes.”

Vharra turned to look at Khyreth. “What?”

“You and all that armor; I blame your shoes. If you weren’t obsessed with protecting your feet like you do, you’d see that you don’t need to live in a metallic clamshell.”

“I don’t get you halfling.”

“No one does,” replied Khyreth with a smile.



2014-12-02 05:08:34
Fun story, a moment in time in the life of fantasy characters. Good style in setting the background and the personalities of the characters. An enjoyable read, indeed.


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