[Kuruharan]

At the sight of Tan-Quickly-Hill, a thought burst into Kuruharan’s brain.

“Wow! Nice digs. This would be an excellent site for a casino!! Surely these Maya and Velour need some way to blow off steam!!”

With that thought echoing in his brain, the enterprising dwarf strolled up to Manuël.

Bowing in the proper dwarven fashion, Kuruharan said, “Please allow me to felicitate Your Majesty on your most recent victory. A triumph of this magnitude will surely awe and keep Muddled-mirth in its place for eons to come.”

“Wha…aaa…” intoned Manuël.

“May it please Your High Majesty,” continued Kuruharan, “to commemorate this splendid occasion, I have come to beg leave to establish a casi…err…erect a memorial…monument, I meant monument (sorry) on Tan-Quickly-Hill, to show forth the glory of your victory for all eternity.”

Manuël stared at the dwarf a moment. “HAAAUUUULLIIIËËËË!!!!”

“Dude?” replied Haulië

“Your creature used big words to me,” said Manuël. “Translate.”

Kuruharan repeated his request. As the dwarf spoke, a thought burst into Haulië’s brain.

“Duuuuuude! This would be an eeexcellent place for a casino!!”

What he said out loud was, “Uhhh…sorry dude! Like, uhh, zoning codes. Yeah, that’s it! The zoning codes don’t allow the building of casinos on Tan-Quickly-Hill.”

“Zoning codes?” said Kuruharan.

“Recently passed,” said Haulië hastily. “We are planning a few renewal projects and all construction has to be…uhhh, like, umm…approved by the Board! Yeah, approved by the Board. Unfortunately, the Board is pretty slow. It generally takes two Ages to process all the paperwork. You’ll probably be long dead before your request came up for review.”

“Curses,” snarled Kuruharan inwardly. Out loud he said, “Please it Your Not Quite As High But Still Pretty Up There Majesty, if I could then present another request?”

“Errr…” said Haulië.

“If Your Majesty would be willing to grant a small license concession to your humble servant, I’d be much obliged,” said Kuruharan.

“What sort of license?” asked Haulië.

“Please it Your Majesty, a gaming and foundation license,” replied Kuruharan. “The sort of license, since Your Majesty is the creator of our race, that King Gaín Lotsamoola would be unable to contest even in his own court. It wouldn’t need to be much of a thing. All it would really need to say is something about how I can have leave to establish my own franchise and not give the king a cut of the take.”

“Sorry, dude,” said Haulië. “I really don’t think…”

“If Your Majesty were able to accommodate your servant in this matter, I would be unable to say anything when I got back about how your wife almost left you (ahem),” said Kuruharan.

“On second thought,” said Haulië abruptly, “in view of your services to, like, the cosmic order, and some junk, I grant your request.”

“My gratitude is inexpressible,” said Kuruharan with another deep bow (in proper dwarven fashion).

“What’s the hold up?” asked Yawanna.

“Huh…hold up,” said Merisuwyniel.

Sure enough, everybody else was at least a quarter mile behind them. Everyone seemed to be watching some sort of discussion taking place between Kuruharan and the Velour.

“Now what’s he doing?” groaned Merisuwyniel. “Can’t I even have my moment of triumph in peace?!”