The Djao'Mor'Terra Collective (fayanora) wrote,
The Djao'Mor'Terra Collective

30 day flash fiction meme: day 2

An LJ friend is doing a 30-day flash fiction meme, and I think I'll join in. First, though, I don't like some of the prompts and so I'll start by asking for alternates. Here are the prompts I don't like:

3) Write a query letter for a fantasy (any kind) novel (I don't like query letters, why should I write one when I don't have to?)
14) Write the final scene of a romance novel “Never Been Caught” (Blegh, romance novels.)

I'm a bit behind, but whatever. Not gonna try doing multiple prompts all at once. It's a 30 day meme, but it doesn't say it has to be 30 consecutive days.

Today's prompt: 2) Write a scene with a drunken mythological creature
Note: Gonna use a Grek, from my Lyria storyverse. They're humanoid dragons, so it counts.

~ ~ ~

      Malvar Kurtreg glowered at the room as he wiped some ale mugs dry from his position behind the bar. Since this was his usual appearance, nobody paid it any heed. The regulars knew it was his happy face.
      He was still drying ale mugs when something happened to turn his scowl into a look of surprise. The doors slammed open as a shambling, drunken man--no, wait, not a man--came stumbling into the room. Malvar was confused at first. Obviously this was a non-human. The scaly skin also told him it was a draconic, even though the face was flat instead of having a muzzle; the nose was also just nostrils, like the nose of a lizard. He didn't know beyond that. Dralakkith was largely isolated from the rest of the continent, and didn't get many non-human visitors for some reason. Malvar thought the scaly leather clothes this person wore, and the three-bladed metal hat on his head should be familiar, but he couldn't recall why.
      "Hrazvek hkeer vyalkyaroot!" the strange, humanoid dragon shouted. He pounded his chest and continued, "Uruth Niishka Talorfk pyahl Drafkitch pyahlor Grek, laath hrazvek hkeer vyalkyaroot!"
      Malvar scowled again, more deeply, and pulled an amulet from one of the drawers, putting it on. The words got a little peculiar and wobbly as the Omnitongue amulet activated and attempted to discern meaning from the stranger's mind. The strange draconic person pounded a fist on the bar and shouted, "Myelfoordt hrazvra glashrodt gyehv hkeer vyalkyaroot?" The amulet activated just in time to translate that as "Who do I have to rape to get a beer?"
      "You got money?" Malvar asked, knowing the amulet would translate.
      "Of course Niishka Talorfk of the Grek clan Drafkitch has money," the amulet translated the Grek's words. "Let's see here..." he wobbled in place as he fumbled for his purse and then tried to find the money in it. Malvar noticed that the Grek had fingernails that only looked a little bit like claws; he'd been expecting full claws.
      "How much... how much money for a pint?" Niishka asked.
      "Two silver half-crowns, or 20 copper crowns."
      Niishka, in much confusion, poured all his money on the counter and said, "I don't have enough local money left. Anything here you you can take?"
      Malvar had to keep from drooling. This Grek had a wide assortment of copper coins, silver coins, and gold coins from many different places. Some he recognized, others he didn't. "Just a moment, while I consult some information." He dug out a magic slate that had currency conversion rates for the area, and studied it.
      After several moments, Malvar said, "Seems this coin, a Silver Sarzox, is worth slightly more than a two silver half-crowns."
      "Good. You can keep the change," Niishka said, putting all the other coins back in his purse. He soon got his ale, and drank it sitting at the bar. "By the way," he said vaguely as he stared out the front window, "my Fii'jah just broke loose." He gestured at the window with the ale mug. "Do you have someone to call, before she wrecks the city?" He chugged the last of the ale, and passed out, falling to the floor in a heap.
      Malvar scowled even deeper. "I don't make enough money to put up with this shit," he mumbled as he went to the 2-way mirror to call the Enforcers.

~ ~ ~

That beer is basically $2.

Crossposted from
Tags: fantasy, flash fiction, lyria, meme
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