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Adventurer who has been clashing with the Dark Lord for so long that they know his minions by their
Written to the prompt 'Adventurer who has been clashing with the Dark Lord for so long that they know his minions by their first names.' by Making Up Adventurers.
“And you just let her waltz in here!?”
The minion standing before the Dark Lord’s throne, thickly muscled such they could easily lift overhead the largest of sheep one in each hand, sheepishly rubbed the back of their neck. “Well, yeah.”
Sienna whistled a jaunty tune as she literally waltzed through the cave, box stepping around stalagmites. “Hey Greg.”
Greg, the minion who was thickly muscled such they could easily lift overhead the largest of sheep one in each hand, gave a chin lift of recognition to the adventurer and her occasional dancing partner of a spear. “What is it this time?”
“What do you mean vacation!?”
Greg shrugged thick shoulders, wincing away because it wasn’t their fault Sienna had a week off.
”Ugh, my manager told me to take a ‘mental health week’ after she found me crying on the change room floor. Like, yes, I’d kinda kept my workload after we stopped being shortstaffed, but a whole week? She knows I don’t have hobbies.”
Greg stood from the cave wall they’d been leaning against, as though to physically comfort Sienna with a shoulder pat or hug. The Dark Lord was exemplary at task tracking and management, they could maybe imagine how much it might take to start crying from overwork but they hadn’t actually experienced anything like it. “Oh, buddy.”
“So what, am I her hobby!? The insult!”
With a sigh, Greg proffered their palms in another shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“And what about you?” The Dark Lord turned to next in the long line of minions standing before the throne.
“I just figure if you’re going to beat her every time, why do we have to get scraped up,” Teleost—or “Theo” as Sienna and fellow minions called him—defended. “And then you have to deal while a bunch of us are on medical leave.”
Much of the line nodded and murmured agreement.
“My management skills are not in question!” As established, they were exemplary. “And you have worker’s comp for a reason!”
Greg nudged a ridge on the rock floor with the toe of their boot, keeping their eyes on the ground as they asked, “Are you upset that we let her in, or are you upset that she interrupted you during the live finale of Drama Drama Love Story?”
The Dark Lord’s mangled scream of frustration was not a sufficiently clear response.
~~~
“And you just let her waltz in here!?”
The minion standing before the Dark Lord’s throne, thickly muscled such they could easily lift overhead the largest of sheep one in each hand, sheepishly rubbed the back of their neck. “Well, yeah.”
Sienna whistled a jaunty tune as she literally waltzed through the cave, box stepping around stalagmites. “Hey Greg.”
Greg, the minion who was thickly muscled such they could easily lift overhead the largest of sheep one in each hand, gave a chin lift of recognition to the adventurer and her occasional dancing partner of a spear. “What is it this time?”
“What do you mean vacation!?”
Greg shrugged thick shoulders, wincing away because it wasn’t their fault Sienna had a week off.
”Ugh, my manager told me to take a ‘mental health week’ after she found me crying on the change room floor. Like, yes, I’d kinda kept my workload after we stopped being shortstaffed, but a whole week? She knows I don’t have hobbies.”
Greg stood from the cave wall they’d been leaning against, as though to physically comfort Sienna with a shoulder pat or hug. The Dark Lord was exemplary at task tracking and management, they could maybe imagine how much it might take to start crying from overwork but they hadn’t actually experienced anything like it. “Oh, buddy.”
“So what, am I her hobby!? The insult!”
With a sigh, Greg proffered their palms in another shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“And what about you?” The Dark Lord turned to next in the long line of minions standing before the throne.
“I just figure if you’re going to beat her every time, why do we have to get scraped up,” Teleost—or “Theo” as Sienna and fellow minions called him—defended. “And then you have to deal while a bunch of us are on medical leave.”
Much of the line nodded and murmured agreement.
“My management skills are not in question!” As established, they were exemplary. “And you have worker’s comp for a reason!”
Greg nudged a ridge on the rock floor with the toe of their boot, keeping their eyes on the ground as they asked, “Are you upset that we let her in, or are you upset that she interrupted you during the live finale of Drama Drama Love Story?”
The Dark Lord’s mangled scream of frustration was not a sufficiently clear response.