Ultimate Level 1

**Fowl’s Point of View**

“There I was, surrounded by almost twenty red skeletons, each taller than Jataic, while the boss, who stood over twenty feet tall, came at me, sword in its bony hand, trying to hack my arms off.”

Fowl rolled across the stone table, knocking off a few mugs, but stood up, one arm held upward, his shield suddenly appearing as he rose.

“With a twist of my hips, I sent the sword to the side, feeling the metal grind against mine, swinging my hammer and causing its armor to crack.”

Cheers came as he mimicked a swing, making a noise that was supposed to sound like such an impact.

“Bah, you didn’t do that!” Batrire shouted from the chair at the edge of the table. “None of your strikes caused its armor to crack!”

“Quiet, woman!” Fowl shot back, winking at her. “Unless you want to get up here and tell everyone how you sit in a chair and read books while I almost die every fight, let me make them enjoy this moment!”

He watched her roll her eyes for a moment before winking at him and then blowing a kiss.

“As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted, the metal on its shin began to crack. We traded blows, the smaller skeletons unable to do anything to me, and my amazing defensive abilities easily stopped all their attacks.”

“One of the fools got close, and I grabbed its head in my plated glove, and like this,” he squeezed, sending a shower of crumbs everywhere, “I crushed its skull, causing a pillar of fire to rise up from where it had been standing.”

Gone was the simple brown shirt he had been wearing, and Fowl smiled as he motioned to his hairy back.

“Only a few of them were singed, unaffected by even such a spell. Truly, you must realize there are few dwarves like me!”

Cheers and groans came as some called for him to put his shirt back on.

“Please, this is a family establishment,” Jataic called out. “Put yer shirt back on, or I’ll have to toss you into the hay!”

Most of the noise quieted down immediately, and Fowl turned to look across the room at the bar where Batrire’s father was working, pouring another line of tankards from a flask as he walked behind the stone bar.

“Bah! You wish, old man!”

A single finger appeared on Jataic’s hand as the dwarf continued to pour drinks.

“He might not do it, but I will,” Norhalin stated as she moved to where her daughter was sitting. “Now put on your shirt and sit down. We need to talk.”

Coughing once, Fowl gave a slight bow, his shirt appearing in the blink of an eye.

“It appears I’ll have to return to how I slayed this boss later,” he declared, hopping off the table and onto the floor, taking the seat next to the love of his life.

A few more groans followed until a bell rang out, and everyone quickly ran to the bar, clambering to get another free drink.

“You’re going to pay for all those,” Batrire’s mother informed them both. “Just know I won’t make you pay till afterward. And before you protest, my dear daughter, we all know that if you’re that high into the tower, you can easily pay for free drinks for a year with the gold you be earning in there.”

Smiling, Batrire nodded and shrugged.

“Perhaps… but I did spend a lot of it on beard waxing.”

Fowl saw his soon-to-be-mother-in-law roll her eyes, a perfect copy of how Batrire did hers.

“So then. What is the plan?”

“Regarding?”

Norhalin cleared her throat at Fowl’s reply.

“The wedding… when is it going to take place? Where will you have it? Should I be expecting a grandchild soon?”

“Ma!”

“What? Can’t I ask why there was a sudden announcement of a wedding? This wouldn’t be the first time a dwarf has returned home, wanting to suddenly get married without even knowing what happened in the last year.”

“She’s not pregnant,” Fowl said before his eyebrows scrunched together, and he looked at Batrire. “You’re not, are you?”

An elbow came at him, hitting his side.

“No… I am not, but if you ask that question again, I’ll limit any chances of that happening for a long time.”

Her tone told him exactly what he needed to know, and without saying another word, Fowl leaned over the table, snagged a half-drank tankard, and lifted it to his lips.

Gods, these women… I feel like that was a trap… Max warned me about these things. Perhaps I should put a few points into intelligence after all.

Considering that thought momentarily, he shook his head and tossed that silly notion away.

Pfft… a warrior with intelligence… what am I, some bald human?

With the noise in the rest of the building it took him a moment to realize that both women were still staring at him.

“What?”

“I asked some questions. You need to answer them,” Norhalin replied.

Feeling his cheeks turn a little warm, Fowl waved a hand before him.

“Nope! That’s not my job! Batrire was absolutely ada… adamon…”

“Adamant,” their healer said.

“That’s it! Adamant that I don’t get to do more than pay and say yes.”

“Well at least he’s trained,” her mother stated. “Hopefully, he won’t act a fool like your father did.”

Fowl watched his love grin and then leaned past her mother to look at her dad, seeing the man shouting and yelling as he handed out free beer to every dwarf who came by.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“It was funny to see him fly through the air like that. I’m just glad he didn’t break anything.”

“Oh, his constitution is high enough, and that’s not going to hurt him. Besides, with all that padding, he bounced more than most would,” her mother replied. “Still… I hate that your first moment back went like that.”

“It actually went better than I expected,” Fowl said. “Part of me wasn’t sure how he would respond to me returning with his daughter. I knew he wasn’t happy about how that went down at all.”

Norhalin nodded slowly, her beard moved slightly, hiding the frown he knew was under it.

“You didn’t earn any points with him… Still… we both knew that our little B was infatuated with you and would follow you anywhere you went.”

“Infatuated?”

Groaning, Batrire tapped her head.

“It means I loved you.”

“So… you don’t love me now?”

Norhalin chuckled as Batrire sighed.

Grinning, Fowl reached out and gently tugged on her beard.

“Not in public,” she hissed, her cheeks turning red.

“Sorry… I just… I love you, Batrire. You know what you mean to me. I’d give up all the gold in the kingdom just to be with you.”

He noticed a sniff and a small tear form in Norhalin’s right eye.

“I haven’t heard words like that since your father wooed me. Gone are the days he compared me to barley and hops. My personality no longer has a glow like the golden ale he sometimes brews.”

“Oh, don’t worry… I’ll make sure my man doesn’t forget to say those things or I’ll cut off his hair while he’s sleeping.”

Scooting his stone chair back a few inches, Fowl held up a hand.

“Now hold on there… no need to get ugly… I’ll make sure to ask Max for some tips on what to say.”

Batrire chuckled and shook her head, winking as he moved his chair back to where it was.

“A human and two elves… I always knew you were not one to be bothered by them. What was the name of that human girl you played with as a child?”

Laughing for a moment, Batrire grinned.

“Gloria.”

“Ahh yes, Gloria. That one was a minx… always a bit of trouble. No wonder you got the healing class with all the bandages you put on her from all the scrapes she got you and others into.”

“But she was the one who brought Fowl into my life,” Batrire pointed out.

“Yet another bit of trouble she got you into,” Norhalin said with a wink.

“Bah, more like the greatest thing in her life since being born to you two.”

“He has a silver tongue, almost like a bard. Perhaps he knows how to use it in many ways.”

A spray of ale shot out across the stone table, and Batrire started to choke on it as her mother began to laugh. Fowl tried to offer help, seeing her struggling to breathe after the comment she had just heard.

“I… uh… perhaps I’ll go and see if Jataic needs some help,” he declared, standing up and leaving the pair of women to have a moment together.

“Put a few points into intelligence?”

Rolling his eyes, Fowl quickly approached the bar, certain that Batrire would be fine as a second coughing fit took over from her mother’s last comment.

***

“I… I want to apologize for how I took your daughter from you. Looking back, I see how that must have been hard on you.”

Taking a deep breath, the largest dwarf in the building nodded.

“Yer not the only one who needs to apologize. I was a fool and let my anger get the best of me. Thank you for bringing her back and not ripping the hair from my chest.”

He laughed at that joke, the thought of what that moment might have been like playing out for a second.

“Did you just imagine that?”

Shaking his head, Fowl smiled.

“What kind of dwarf would I be to do such a thing? Besides, we both know your daughter wouldn’t have allowed it.”

He watched as Jataic rubbed a hand on his apron where the tender spots most dwarves would go after first during a hair-pulling match were.

“I’m just glad we got women smart enough to stop us from being fools. Still, I must say part of me was impressed by your toss, while the other part of me was humiliated. I might have to rethink how many times I do that to these drunks.”

“Bah, you can toss me if it would make you feel better. Just make sure to let me know when you want to do it, and I’ll put on my best acting.”

He watched as Batrire’s father stepped back from the bar and crossed both arms.

“You’d do that for me?”

“I owe you… if getting tossed makes you feel better or helps this place somehow, it’s a price I’m willing to pay. Besides…” Fowl paused, frowning as he drummed his fingers on the stone bar. “We both know that I’m going to have a worse time when I go and see my family.”

“You’ve heard?”

“I have. How have they been?”

A fist came down on the bar, causing a few nearby tankards to wobble slightly.

“Without getting into the weeds, your father was about as pleasant as a thorn in one’s boot. After you left, he came here repeatedly, causing problems and blaming all this on my daughter. The guards had to come more than once.”

“You didn’t try and toss him?”

“Gods no,” Jataic replied. “That man has more strength than me and a higher constitution as well. You’ve seen his arms. Even upset, I’m not that dumb.”

“So what do I look like?”

Leaning against the counter, his belly providing a natural resting place, her dad grinned.

“Like the dwarf who ran off with my little girl. Sometimes a dwarf gets angry, and one forgets to use common sense.”

Snorting, Fowl nodded and picked up the tankard he had been drinking from.

“I’ve been accused of that many times. Still, I’m trying to get better.”

They nodded, each taking a long drink, eyes locked on the other until both tankards were empty and set down on the bar.

“That reminds me… your daughter…”

“Yes?”

Grinning, Fowl pulled out his trophy from winning the Peltagow drinking contest.

“I owe her dad for teaching me how to drink. I won this because of you. Perhaps it might serve as a small token of my appreciation.”

Thick, long fingers picked up the helmet that had been set on the bar, and Jataic lifted it to his face, inspecting its details.

“Dwarven made… good quality… seems like it was a legit tournament. I guess…” Pausing, he put the helm on his head. It barely fit on his oversized melon. “I’ll wear it with pride before putting it on the wall with all the other trophies I’ve won.”

Fowl howled with laughter, watching the helmet barely stay in place as Batrire’s father began to move behind the bar, twirling a few times and laughing as he did.

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