I pushed myself off the rock, my long, dark coat swishing in a way I had been practicing. It was all in the hips.
"I am not here for a battle," I declared, my voice echoing across the mountain pass. "Not yet."
I was here for a negotiation.
A hostile, aggressive, and probably very one-sided negotiation. But a negotiation nonetheless.
I had learned my lesson from the war with Sarah. A kingdom conquered was good. A kingdom acquired, with its skilled personnel and priceless infrastructure intact, was better.
I wanted this Dwarf.
I wanted his forge, his skills, and his glorious, magnificent beard.
And I wanted him alive.
"Pixia," I commanded. "Broadcast my message. Full power. I want every single, stubborn, rock-eating hermit in that mountain to hear my magnificent, booming voice."
My tiny pixie advisor nodded, her eyes glowing. She held up a small, crystal amplifier that looked suspiciously like a karaoke microphone.
