"The Scandis are actin' weird," Pickles announced.
"'The Scandis'?" Nathan echoed. "Is it too much work to call them Toki and Skwisgaar?"
"Or the guitarists," Charles offered. "And what do you mean by 'acting weird'?"
"'Scandis' is easier! I don't know; they're weird! They're all jumpy and shit! They're actually talkin' t' each other an' if you walk up t' 'em they stop an' stare at ya! Weird!"
"Hey, hey Nathan," Murderface muttered in a stage whisper. "Let'sh shtart doin' that to Picklesh, too. Then he'll think it'sh jusht him."
"I kin hear you, Murderface," Pickles growled.
"Uh . . in relation to the guitarists, I understand there have been a series of unsettling events all through . . . . uh . . Scandinavia," Charles offered.
"What are we supposed to talk about?" Nathan wondered.
"Not just Norway and Sweden, but Denmark and . . . uh. . . Finland as well," the manager continued.
"We don't have to actually talk about anything, we can just pretend and shtop when Picklesh comes up."
"I'm sittin' reight here."
"That's probably what has them spooked."
"What, just go 'pssst, psssst, pssssst' and then when we see him go 'Shhh! Here he comes!'?"
"Yeah!"
"I'm starin' reight at you guys."
"I'm sure the uh . . . 'Scandis' being nervous is . . . nothing to worry about."
"I don't think that'll work," Nathan declared.
"Why not?"
"I'm reight here!"
The door at the far end of the meeting chamber opened and Toki and Skwisgaar came through.
"There you two are. You haven't . . . .missed . . . . . . . . much . . . . ." Charles' words, normally halting and slow, staggered to a halt like a crippled drunk.
Two individuals were approaching the meeting table. They possessed the features normally associated with Skwisgaar Skwigelf and Toki Wartooth. Charles just wasn't sure they possessed the features normally associated with human beings.
The tall blond ghosted into the room in a gait that seemed to flow more than pace. Charles was half-tempted to check for roller skates. While he was handsome and pale like Skwisgaar, he just seemed so much more of both of those things that he appeared to glow against the dark background of Mordhaus.
He was clothed in soft grays that seemed somber even as certain threads caught the light in a glittering array. The seams flowed and twirled down his long frame in a way that should have left the fabric puckered and ugly but was just as flawless as the wearer.
Seldom used words like 'ethereal' and 'sublime' and 'gossamer' fought to the front of Charles's mind, but when he saw the delicately pointed ears holding back the pale platinum hair, the only word he thought was 'elf'.
The vision's eyes moved to his companion. Charles' eyes followed suit.
Whatever visions of supernatural grace the Skwisgaar-look alike conjured up, the Toki-creature quickly banished.
He didn't flow, he skulked. Bare-chested, his muscles gleamed dully in the light as though they had been oiled with something that smelled strongly of musk. A fur of some description was draped around his shoulders. Charles wasn't sure how, but it just gave the impression of having been ripped off of the original owner and tanned but never washed.
Strange runes were painted down his face and arms in blue paint, managing to be threatening and meaningless at the same time. Trousers that appeared to have simply been wrapped into shape and tied on with leather bindings clothed his legs, because apparently sewing was for people who didn't have any killing to do.
Pointed ears, these large and stubby, jutted out on either side of his head and almost overshadowed the two small tusks peeking out of the corners of his mouth.
Nathan was suddenly reminded of how funny Skwisgaar had considered the cave troll scene from The Fellowship of the Ring and how Toki had gotten pissed off for no discernable reason.
The gorgeous elf creature turned fully to the troll warrior.
"Dis ams dildos," he announced.
By all that was unholy, it was weird to hear Skwisgaar's voice coming out of that glowing countenance.
"It ams worse dan dildos," the troll returned in Toki's voice.
"What's ams worse dan dildos?" Skwisgaar asked, gesturing to the meeting table.
"Um . . . . . . butt-plug?" Toki offered.
He took hold of the meeting table with one hand and tossed it over his shoulder like an empty burger box. The heavy piece of furniture slammed into the stone floor and shattered. Charles knew for a fact that it took six burly Gears to move the thing and this . . . . . Toki had lifted it like it was nothing.
"I mean, why de fucks I's gots to runs back and fights for de Elf Queen because she wants to goes to dos de war with de Troll Kingdom?"
As he spoke, the elf held a hand over the stones now bared by the abscence of the meeting table. An intricate rune glowed briefly on the floor, then the stones shattered, spraying upwards.
"Den don'ts," Toki said, ignoring this. "De Troll King wantses me to fight, toos, but I ain't goings to dos it."
Two long boxes laid in the space uncovered by the broken stone. One was white wood with silver filigree growing over it in such an intricate pattern the box itself belonged in a museum somewhere. The other was blackened wood bound together with iron hinges and an actual human skull for a clasp.
Not for the first time did Pickles wonder what kind of name 'Wartooth' was, but it did suddenly occur to him that it did sound like the sort of name someone earned.
"Yous nots goings to fights? Den why's de fucks joo gettings joos duar?"
Skwisgaar held out his hand and the white box opened.
An instrument floated up and into the elf's grip.
It was sort of a guitar, in the same way that rusty scythes and surgeon's scalpels are both cutting tools. Twelve silver strings curled elegantly around spiral silver pegs. The graceful stretch of the neck and body looked more like it had been grown rather than made. The engineers at Gibson probably would have sold thier souls to get a hold of it. Just looking at it, you would imagine it would sound like an angel playing the flute.
"I can'ts lets joo wipe outs de Troll Kingdom 'cause I was de only ones smart enough to figure out how dildos dis is."
The black box slammed open and something flew at Toki as though it were attacking him.
"Watches it, troll-boy!"
The troll caught and held an instrument that was at the opposite end of the spectrum from Skwisgaar's. It definitely appeared to have been made and made by someone who said 'What if I have to kill someone while I'm playing? Putting down the instrument and picking up a weapon is way too much work.' The edges of the body were sharp and jagged, the twelve strings thick and looked perfect for garroting someone. The frets were human finger bones. The pegs were the canine teeth of a wolf-type creature that would have been the size of a horse. The only sound you could imagine it making was screaming obscenities.
"Skwisgaar. We ams de two most powerfuls spellsingers the Fairy Realms has every known. Joo t'inks we can'ts stops one littles war?"
Skwisgaar considered this, then started to smile. The elf turned to Charles, acknowledging his presence for the first time.
"We ams going to be backs late," he announced.
Without another word, the two guitarists teleported out of the room.