The Berserker and the Pedant

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

THE BERSERKER AND THE PEDANT

Editor: Marta Tanrikulu

Cover Art: James E. Grant

Interior Art: Milan C.

340 S Lemon Ave #4745

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USA

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Introduction

The
Berserker and the Pedant
is an epic fantasy adventure filled with humor, twists and turns, and some very lovable characters. You'll laugh out loud, you'll cry, and you'll shout "How ridiculous!" only to chuckle and keep on reading.

When you're left wanting more, meander over to
http://www.pedantpublishing.com
and subscribe to the mailing list, you'll immediately receive a short story that reveals some of the hidden secrets of the world, and is guaranteed to make you laugh.

If you enjoy
The Berserker and the Pedant,
please leave a review. No, really. I need reviews. No reviews, no sales. No sales, no more books. Okay, fine, there will be more books because I love writing them. Please leave a review anyway.

Thank you for reading. Let me know if you liked the book, contact me @seasoup on Twitter.

Acknowledgements

My biggest thanks to my wife, Marianne. Without her help I would never have had time to write a book. She also acted as a sounding board for discussing ideas, and as my first reader, and my best cheerleader.

Special thanks to Ray Nicholson for doing a beta read and providing quality feedback before the book was finished. In particular, his guidance shaped the description of the word "pedant" in the first chapter, solving an ongoing issue readers were having.

Pilot

The Berserker and the Pedant

Gurken Stonebiter gulped for air as he ran in hot pursuit of a temple thief. He was not about to stop before he apprehended the miscreant. The thief hurdled a barrel, slid through the legs of a horse, and leapt into a building, slamming the door. Gurken Stonebiter, dwarven templerager, and avatar of the great dwarven god of butchery and battle, Durstin Firebeard, was thwarted.

Gurken thought about hacking down the door, and nearly did - nearly, but for the thought that breaking through such a thick door would cause a certain dullness to accumulate on the blade. Not wanting to endure the drudgery of honing his axe, Gurken sprinted around the building looking for another entrance. Finding none, he returned to stand watch at the door, axe ready to strike, waiting for the thief to exit.

Some time later, a small girl wandered up to Gurken. She raised an eyebrow and smiled at him.

Gurken was a towering figure - for a dwarf, as such, he was barely taller than the young girl. Built like a rhinoceros, his muscles rippled over his body. His neck was solid as a granite statue. Despite his great height, he was overly wide due first to his massive torso and second to his chainmail armor and layers of padding. He wore a dented metal cap covering his bald head. His earthy red beard was caked with an ornamental red clay, and the many small scars on his face displayed his affection for combat. He looked quite formidable, unapproachable, and capable of unnerving even the bravest of soldiers.

"What are you doing?" the girl inquired. If she was unnerved in any way, she hid it quite well.

Gurken lowered his head and peered at the girl. "I await the thief within this building, boy."

"I'm not a boy! I'm a girl. Why don't you go inside?"

Gurken's brow furled. "Look here, boy…"

"I'm not a-" she interrupted.

"Never interrupt a berserker, boy," said Gurken, lowering his axe, "I'm Gurken Stonebiter and I'm about the business of the temple of Durstin Firebeard. I'm pursuing the vilest kind of villain - a thief that has stolen temple property. He fled into this building, and so I'm waiting for him to come out in order to make an arrest. If I must, I shall wait until…"

She hadn't intended to interrupt again, but it seemed as if Gurken was going to continue for quite some time.

"Pleasure to meet you, Gurken, I'm Pellonia. Why don't you go inside?"

Gurken almost noticed that she interrupted him again, but missed it because of the abrupt change in topic. "I was just getting to that. Ordinarily, I would go inside and apprehend the criminal, but just now, I am stymied."

"Stymied, you say?"

"Yes, stymied," he agreed, nodding.

"Thwarted even?"

"Why, yes, that is just so. I'm thwarted," said Gurken, pleased with the unusual feeling of being understood.

"I can see why being thwarted would stop you from going inside. But, that begs the question, what's thwarting you?"

"A fair question, boy." It had been some time since anyone had taken such an active interest in him.

She sighed. "I had thought it fair."

"And it was, I insist on it." Gurken thought that he should be pleasant in return.

"Well, please answer, what thwarts you from going inside?"

"Ah. That. Well, it is locked. I have no key, nor wish to dull my axe which would require some amount of time sharpening to restore its keen edge. So I wait."

"Well, I have an answer for you. Watch this."

She turned the knob, and the door opened. Gurken was astonished!

"You're a master lock pick!"

"A what? Master loc - no I'm not." She raised her hands defensively in front of her.

"Come to think of it, a master of locks is also a master of disguise," he said. The feeling of understanding gave way to that of betrayal, having been deceived by a promising new friend.

"Um, what? No, no no. It wasn't locked."

Gurken, though having many admirable qualities, seemed unable or unwilling to hear something contrary to the way he thought things were.

"You almost fooled me, master thief, but you weren't quite good enough to fool Gurken Stonebiter! You should surrender now, for you won't like what I will have to do if I were forced to apprehend you."

"I'm not a thief! I'm a little girl!"

"Please come this way, or you shall make me wroth. You won't like it when I'm wroth, for there is much bloodshed, butchery, and death." He paused a moment, putting a finger on his lip, then continued, "and not my death, I assure you. Other persons's deaths." A small crowd had gathered, watching the interaction between the unusual looking dwarf and the small girl. The crowd began to look a bit nervous.

"My death?" She gulped.

"Other people's." He shrugged. "Perhaps yours. You see I tend not to be particular."

Her eyes widened and she put her hands up. "I surrender!" She didn't seem to want the death of others on her conscience.

"Pardon me sir," came a voice from behind. "If I might interject."

Gurken turned and looked into the midriff of a stranger, dressed in a fine sapphire blue silken robe, embroidered with numerous symbols along the hem. He smelled of books and ink. This was not going to go well.

Gurken shook his head from side to side, then he casually inclined his head to look up at the man.

"You sir, are interjecting my arrest."

The man wrinkled his brow. "Perhaps I'm being a pedant, but…"

"I'm sorry," said Gurken. "But, did you call yourself a pendant?"

"A pedant - one who may, on occasion, have a tendency to overemphasize the rules of grammar and/or logic, that is, to be pedantic."

Gurken just glared at him.

"As I was saying, perhaps I'm being a pedant, but you didn't use the word 'interjecting' properly. However, I understand your meaning, and you are correct, I am interrupting you, but with good reason. You see, that girl is not guilty of the crime of which you accuse her. My name is Arthur Gimble. I'm a wizard of the tenth rank. I've been practicing the art of perception for a decade, so I'm well equipped to perceive your mistake."

Gurken's eyebrows furrowed. He was perturbed, though not yet wroth.

"Pendant wizard, I'm Gurken Stonebiter, of the dwarfen clan Stonebiter…"

"Dwarven," said Arthur Gimble, sighing. "It's 'dwarven' clan."

Though Gurken was practically unable or unwilling to hear things that conflicted with his viewpoint, Arthur Gimble managed to wedge a toe in the door to comprehension.

"What exactly do you mean?"

"The proper grammatical structure when using 'dwarf' as a proper descriptive adjective is to use the word 'dwarven'. Not 'dwarfen'."

Upon hearing this, Gurken's face flushed with heat, a ringing echoed in his ears, the hair on the back of his neck stood erect, and his eyes engorged with blood, imparting a crimson haze to the world. Hagalaz, the dwarfen rune of catastrophe and short-term disappointment, glowed scarlet on the head of his axe.

Gurken snarled, "I'm afraid I don't understand. Won't you please spell it out for me?"

Arthur spoke obliviously, quite obliviously, with the regrettable ignorance of one having never been in a fight and unable to sense one approaching. Arthur Gimble, wizard of the tenth rank, took the dwarf quite literally and said, "Dwarven. D. W. A. R. V. Hgurk!"

This last sound was not the wizard explaining how to spell 'dwarven', so much as a reaction to the axe, implanted between his toes and foot.

"Hgaaack!" Being a wizard, one can only imagine that Arthur's first response to being assaulted would be the casting of a devastating spell, meant to cripple, maim, or at least render his foe incapacitated. Arthur found casting a spell, however, to be quite difficult with the flat of an axe slamming into the bottom of his chin, shattering his teeth, mandible, and the rest of his head below the nose.

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