The spoiling of victory
A Brick replied "Regroup here. Bring back survivors and whatever else you can carry."
So we shoved the giants down an unused tunnel, gently stacked the dead dwarves for carrying, and I continued to heal the survivors and us. The survivors also pulled out their stash of gems they had mined. Pitter and I carried the dead dwarves and some of the equipment. It was slow going. The survivors carried the gems. We trudged back.
We stopped for some food. Me feel sad about the dead dwarves and even the dead giants, but still, we saved some people and did good. But I look around and all the faces are glum, except perhaps Throw Down. But I know not him; his look was strange, both grim and satisfied.
But Pitter looked utterly defeated. I think it pained him greatly to kill another of his kind. All Grins and the other dwarves were somber caretakers of the dead dwarves.
But Barrel seemed really angry and that puzzled me. I think it was because he looked kind of beat up. It was hard not to notice that he had failed to hurt the giants and got pretty banged up himself. I can only hope he finds his way.
And then we trudged along again, in silence, except for Barrel sometimes kicking rocks all over the place. The dwarves did not seem to like that. Hours passed and night came on. We looked around, but all seemed quiet.
As we approached the home of the dwarves, I could see that Door Lick was gone. In his place was a dwarf named Smell Door. Naturally, I now have riled him too. I think there will be many a smug dwarf taken low by these arms. Or high? They are already low?
As we approached, A Brick joined us, thanking us, and offering us to stay and help. That sounded nice. I think we will stay here for awhile.
Mords of wisdom: There are many kinds of heavy loads to carry.