You were grabbed in a hand, handled against your consent as you squirm around in the grip. Is this what the tiny races had to deal with, cause honestly, you weren’t a fan! You struggled around more and more, hating every second until you were brought up.
You were brought up to the face of the giantess who had you. Let’s just say she wasn’t... what you expected. She was very pretty, and judging from her very stocky build she was a dwarf. Frizzled orange hair down her side, and a leather chest plate over her chest. Although you think her breasts were trying to get out.
Her arms and legs weren’t long, which made it pretty clear she was a dwarf. Whether it was fat on those arms or muscles, you need a better look. her hand was rough, meaning she has been doing a lot of rough work with it.
She looked down to you before the dwarf smirked wide. She took care of her teeth, which was great. “Look at ya! A wee little man! You are a fucking human right, or are you a little Sprite with its wings off huh?”
Her dwarf accent was thick. Suddenly she flipped you around. You look your way forward as you spin around. “I don’t have wings.”
“Yeah, no shite!” She spoke down to you. “What the hell are ya doin ‘ere! Wait, you came from Frett didn’t ya?”
Right, tiny humans were not a usual thing. At least not in Cassier. You could lie and say you were a Tomkin, but might as well go with the story she was offering. “Y-Yes. I escaped from there. Those animals, wanted to keep us as sex slaves.”
“Bloody hell!” She screamed, the loud dwarf. “Poor wee fella. Fuckin small and shite.” She started to touch her fingers on you.
“H-Hey quit it.”
“We are Rammer treat out Sprites pretty aight. I heard other places treat their tinies pretty bad.”
“Y-Yes that’s true. Anyway,” You quickly were getting tired of being manhandled and you would rather leave her company. “If you drop me down I’ll go my business.”
“Nah!” The dwarven woman said. “You can come with me. We can have a drink at the pub!”
You would of said something, but she quickly grabbed you. Her fingers wrapped around you as you were losing breath.
“We’ll get fuckin’ drunk!” She cheered.
Dwarves. All they care about is their weapons and beer. Seems like it’s not just the men as the woman was on the same page. She looked around twenty-four, maybe five?
“My name is Gretta Fly-Air.” She said down to you. “You wanna know how I got that name. My grandfather, the old bastard created flying machines! Can ya fucking believe that!” She said down to you. She realized you were struggling to breathe as she opened her grip.
You got the privilege to actually breathe, which you didn’t think was a privilege until you got it taken away.
“Sorry, you are just so fucking small I gotta remember you can’t take it.” Gretta laughed this off, as you look at her worried.
“Please just let me g-”
“We are gonna have a drink, you whiny little shit.” She said as she was already walking. Holding you in her hand, at least you could breathe. “Name?”
“Nolan Gausser.” You reply back to her simply as she was more than satisfied hearing this. “And I-”
“I didn’t ask for your whole life story!” She barked at you, as she went ahead and got you to stop talking. “You can tell me that when I drink you under the table.”
This intel-gathering plan has dropped real quick, but at least you were getting taken into the heart of Rammer. As you got deeper, you were less focused on the beautiful building and more on the fact about the elves around you.
You saw sprites flying around, a couple of centaurs, and even other dwarves. The beautiful elves though, walk past Gretta with confidence. Their eyes were on you, as you were feeling more and more nervous.
“Quit ya fricken Eyeballing!” Gretta shouted at one of them. “Prissy little softies.”
“Don’t like elves?” You speak up, as her eyes lingered on you.
“No dwarves do. They drink wine, who the fuck likes wine!” Clearly, you are noticing that Elves and Dwarves don’t get along so well. Guess both of them are needed to make this work.
Going to a pub though, that works out perfect. Gather some intel with your dwarven hostess.
She got to her favorite pub, the ‘Drunken Miner’. She’s been going to it since she was 8! Of course, she wasn’t allowed to drink then, that started at fourteen.
She opened it and you look around. A dwarf drinking pub. Judging from how many beards was in the place.
Gretta walked her way over and sat down. She dropped into her chair with such care, it was almost like she was trying to break it.
With little care, she dropped you down in front of her, a large smile on her face.
“Can I get you anything?” The waitress said coming to the table. “Gretta! Your usual.”
“Double it. I got small company.” She said gesturing to you. The dwarven waitress waved at you before she left.
“And your usual is?”
“Beer!” She said as you should have just guessed. You would of gotten it right if you did just that. You look at the other dwarves around you. They were huge, but barely even 4 feet tall. That includes Gretta right now. You could hear a lot if you stay here.
“Hey, listen!” She screamed at you. You look your way up at the giantess. “I asked ya a question?”
“Sorry was a bit too busy.” You admit up to Gretta. You need to pay attention to this very brash and loud woman. She was caring for you, and it’s best to stay on her good side.
What is the question?
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