Chapter 23: [Contract successful. New Bloodkin created.]
Ragnar was experiencing a novel sensation: a productive conversation.
For weeks, his most intelligent subordinate had been a silent, graceful statue who only spoke in a language that sounded like a beautiful, elven weather report.
Now, thanks to the bizarre and slightly horrifying power of his [Absorb] ability, the communication barrier had been shattered.
"So you’re telling me," Ragnar said, pacing in front of his throne while trying to keep the hysterical edge out of his voice, "that for the last month, you could have told me anything I wanted to know, but you assumed I preferred to communicate through a complicated series of grunts and pointing, like a caveman trying to order a pizza?"
Val’sharah, his Dark Elf subordinate, stood with perfect posture, her amethyst eyes betraying no emotion. "My Lord, my purpose is to follow your commands. You did not command me to speak the common tongue. I assumed your methods were a test of my perceptive abilities."
Ragnar stopped pacing and stared at her. "A test?"
"Yes, my Lord. A test to see if I could anticipate your needs without the crutch of language. I have been compiling extensive notes on your gestures.
The double facepalm, for instance, seems to indicate a critical failure in a long-term strategy."
Ragnar’s jaw hung open. He ran a hand through his hair, the Elven knowledge he’d absorbed from her blood still swirling in his mind. He now knew a dozen ways to fletch an arrow and the proper Elven sonnet for a moonlit night, but he had never felt more like an idiot. He had been so caught up in the stress of survival that he hadn’t even considered the simplest solution.
"Right. Fine. New rule," he declared, collapsing onto his throne.
The cold obsidian felt even more uncomfortable now that he had someone to complain to about it. "From now on, we use English. No more tests. My blood pressure can’t handle it."