Bounties of Dorn #5

As always, check out the link above for the rest of the story.

“Hey, Dorn, hey!” called a stick of a man from the back of the arms shop.  Even at four feet tall, Dorn towered over the amalgamation of magic and nervous energy.

“Oy, Twig.  Nee’ more rope.  Damn succubee tore mine up durin’ the transfer,” said Dorn.  Twig, the branch, popped an extra arm out of his wooden body to adjust a price tag while his other two hands accompanied his conversation.

“No problem, none at all,” said Twig.  He hitched up his makeshift pants, and scurried off.

“Dorn!  Heard you brought in a girl the other day.  Thinking about stomping in on my territory?”  A hulking red beast thundered up to the bounty hunter.  Ridges of fur stuck out of the beast in odd places, and he puffed up his chest, complete with four pectoral muscles.  At two times Dorn’s size, he probably could have squashed Dorn with one cloven foot.  The bounty hunter favored this creature with a hardened stare.

“Thar’s no territories in bounty huntin’, Jexer.  We all go afta’the same scoundrels,” said Dorn.

“Yeah, but you bring in over half the bounties!  You might leave a little for the rest of us,” said Jexer, muscles rippling.  Rage pushed Dorn’s eyebrow fold up far enough for his eyes to be seen.  They were many colors; topaz, amethyst, ruby, emerald, all scintillating and flashing.

“Ya wan’me to leave criminals on the stree’ ’cause ya can’ compete?  Learn your craft, youngin’, an’ don’ come cryin’ ta me,” said Dorn, “If ya had the sense to be the best there is, ya wouldn’ be here, arguin’ when ya could be huntin’.”  Jexer snorted through his three nostrils.  He smacked one meaty fist into his palm, then stretched it back to wallop Dorn, unconcerned with the damage he might inflict on the tightly-packed shop.  Dorn recognized the hazard, however, and sighed.  He braced himself.

Jexer swung, putting the full force of his enormous size behind the blow.  Dorn flicked out a wand, and activated it.  The wand spun in a circle, leaving stone in its place.  When it returned to its origin, the wand’s stone formed a shield large enough to cover Dorn’s torso.  Jexer strained harder, knowing he’d have to break through it.

They connected.

Jexer flew backward, through the door of the shop.

“Yar mum’s a ninny if she didn’ teach ya that fightin’ indoors is impolite,” shouted Dorn.  Jexer fell, in a heap of smelly limbs.  Dorn went to investigate.  The bullish man peered up at the bounty hunter with the first real sign of fear.

“Tha’s rubber rock.  Good fer brutes like you who think with’eir arse,” said Dorn.  Twig bustled out of his shop.

“What happened?” he asked, eyeing Jexer.

“Jes’ a good, ol-fashioned settlin’ ‘o’ differences, Twig.  Nothin’ to worry about,” said Dorn.  Jexer gave a weak nod.

“Well, okay…  I have your rope, and a few bolts if you need them,” said Twig, wringing his hands.  It made a whittling sound, and Dorn wondered if Twig could literally worry his hands to nothing.

“Very good, Twig.  Le’s have a look at ’em.”

~ by Rachel Francis on August 10, 2012.

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