Klank Klank's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Klank Klank pressed his green fingers against his temples and tried to remember the last time he'd tasted dwarf liver. Three moons? Four? The days blurred together now, each one stretching longer than the last. He needed it—the rich, fatty meat that made his thoughts sharp and his body electric. Without it, the purple willows had started whispering his name at night, their voices scratching at the edges of sleep. He'd tried everything else: pixie dust that made his brain itch with colors that shouldn't exist, troll bile that turned his vomit into rainbows for a week. Nothing worked like dwarf liver. He had to find some, and soon, before the whispers got louder. The market was his best chance. Klank Klank walked between the stalls, his pointed ears twitching at every sound. He spotted a balance scale with carved wooden arms and brass weights sitting on a trader's table. The merchant looked him up and down, taking in his fur coat. "I'll trade information for coin," the merchant said. Klank Klank pulled three copper pieces from his belt. "Dwarf liver. Where?" The merchant pointed toward the far end of the market. "Butcher shop. Might have what you need." His heart hammered against his ribs as he walked faster. A silver bell on a wooden stand caught his eye near a message board. He rang it three times, the sound clear and bright. "Does anyone have dwarf liver?" he shouted to the crowd. Heads turned. Some laughed. Others looked away. No one answered. The fur-wearing followers he'd accidentally collected started to gather, drawn by the bell. He didn't have time for them now. Then he saw it—the butcher shop with metal hooks on the walls and a wooden counter dark with stains. Smoke rose from a fire inside. The smell hit him first: stone dust, ale, the sharp tang of forge work. Dwarves had been here. Maybe dwarf liver hung on those hooks right now. Klank Klank's hands shook as he pushed open the door. This was it. His craving would end today.