The Berserker and the Pedant Read Online Free Page B

process.
    "Already?" Pellonia asked, "that seems pretty fast."
    Gurken gave her a bemused look. "It was a magical fire, after all."
    "Quite," said Arthur, smirking.
    After observing their morning rituals, Gurken checked his armor and equipment to ensure everything was in its place, Arthur fed his new insectile companion and considered what to call it, and Pellonia rolled some eggs closer to the fire and tried in quite imaginative ways to get one to open for her.
    "You should call it Kitty," said Pellonia, sitting on one of the eggs, "on account of its soft fur and tendency to purr."
    Gurken's axe was at the ready, honed to a nearly sharp edge. He walked to the tunnel entrance and listened. Having scanned for danger with keen dwarfen senses, he gestured for them to follow.
    "That doesn't quite fit him," Arthur said, walking over to Gurken "I'll have to get to know him better first."
    Pellonia jumped down and walked towards them, looking mournfully back at the nest of eggs, "I'd have called mine Kitty."
    They followed the corridor for some time, alert for any sign of danger, well… Gurken was alert for any sign of danger, Pellonia and Arthur were alert for any sign of a good name for the ant, which skittered about the floor, ranging ahead before getting interested in some scent on a rock and falling behind. It climbed on Arthur before settling on his shoulder and nibbling at his ear.
    "Skitter!" "No." "Legs!" "No." "Anty!" "No." "Tickles!" "Hmm. No." "Pincy!" "No." "Fluffy." "I'm afraid not."
    "STOP!" Gurken said.
    "Sorry, Gurken," said Pellonia, "I didn't realize we were bugging you." She sniggered. Arthur chuckled.
    "No, look ahead." Gurken pointed down the tunnel. At the edge of the torch light was a pair of yellow eyes on a green scaled face, forked tongue flicking towards them. It slithered into the luminescence, stretching its supple shape, slipping past the soil. A snake. Easily sixty feet long, it lifted its head into the air, hissing.
    "Dragon!" Arthur and Pellonia yelled, pointing up at the beast, frozen in its terrifying aura.
    "Dragon!" Gurken roared with glee, raising his axe. Thurisaz, the dwarfen rune of directed destruction and masculine fervor etched upon it's head, blazed. Gurken charged, bloodlust urging him on. He swung the axe delivering a mighty blow with enough force to sever the trunk of a tolerably round tree. The snake swayed away from the blow, sparks showering the shaft. It unhinged its massive jaw, enveloping the dwarf and swallowing him whole. A dwarf sized protrusion struggled in its neck and slid deeper down its craw. It hissed in pleasure, swallowed, and turned towards Pellonia and Arthur, tongue flicking.
    Pellonia and Arthur tried to move, but all of their courage could not budge them. They remained still as stone, mouths agape, pointing at the slinking serpent. It slowly slipped closer, eyes steadily staring. The snake sniffed, its tongue tasting Arthur's skin. 
    The ant hopped on the snake's face, landing between its eyes, spraying a sticky mist all over it. The snake shrunk aside, flinging the ant through the air, and hissed at it, muscles straining to strike. Dirt fell from the ceiling, pummeling the snake on the head, knocking it to the ground. A giant ant fell out of the hole and landed upon it with a "toch toch toch", pincers severing the snake's head from its body before the ant burrowed into the floor and out of sight. Gurken burst out of the stomach, axe glowing, eyes alight in berserk glee, shaking off stomach acid and blood. "That's disgusting!" he said, smiling. The small ant came trotting back to Arthur, who bent down to pet it.
    "Antic!" Pellonia said.
    "Oh, I like that one," Arthur agreed.

Episode Four
    The Berserker and the Minotaur
     

     
    "We've been wandering for DAYS since we killed the dragon," Pellonia whined. The whine, coming as it was from a rather slight figure having the appearance of a twelve year old girl, down to the freckles, pigtails, and pouty dimples, had