Welcome to Splatter Elf Flash. A weekly (bi-weekly?) dose of flash fiction from my Splatter Elf world. If this little slice of fiction entices you, be advised that you can currently buy my first official short story in this universe “The Unicorn-Eater” at this very moment! I am currently giving away 10 free copies of this tale. If you’re interested, email me at firstname.lastname@example.org and I’ll hook you up.
The Breadhammer stories will be a serial of short sections that I’ll post periodically. So if you’re interested in his quests, then keep an eye on this blog for the short entries.
Breadhammer and the Golem of Brackenbrook-Part 1
Hard bread, hard life. Breadhammer’s bread was so hard, he made a massive hammer out of a loaf of stale old rye. Stained with the blood of his enemies, sometimes he considered taking a bite out of it when he stalked the wastes of Groteskia. Yet then he remembered how inedible it was. So inedible that he made a bread helmet out of another piece.
His foes laughed when they first caught glimpse of him, but their laughs quickly turned to screams as he bashed them with his breadly weapon. They cried out for mercy as his bread maul slammed against their heads over and over. Skulls cracked. Rib cages collapsed. Necks snapped. They all died laughing.
But these were mere mortals. He faced one of his most dangerous opponents before him. As if forged from his nightmares. A golem made entirely of hard bread. Someone had prepared for Breadhammer’s arrival in Brackenbrook. A foul wizard cackling behind the mound of twisted bread. The golem coughed up crumbs as it advanced toward the bread-wielding warrior. In his quest to eat of the soft breads of the Nine Bakers, he always came up against deadlier and deadlier enemies. This was his first golem. Not steel, not wood, not stone, not bone. But bread.
“Breadhammer!” The wizard stroked his crusty beard. “I’ve been waiting for you for quite some time. I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”
“Who are you, fell sorcerer?” Breadhammer hefted his maul.
“I am Dirja of the Dollwood,” the wizard croaked. “A summoner and inventor of much renown. Have you not heard of me?”
“I try not to remember wizard names when I hear them,” Breadhammer said.
“A tragic mistake,” Dirja said. “For if you knew my reputation, you would know my golems are second-to-none when it comes to dismembering foolish warriors like yourself. I always come prepared. Of course I always hoped we’d cross paths eventually. I’ve heard you killed some of my brothers and sisters.”
“Wizards and witches, I presume?”
“But of course.”
“Too countless to imagine,” Breadhammer said. “I keep a closet full of their skulls in my home back in Dragon Sputum. Show it to guests. Very popular with the older crowd.”
“Disgusting,” Dirja spat. “I will make sure to use your bones to make my next golem. One that I’ll make do menial tasks like scrubbing my floors or clipping my toenails. So your body will be forever linked to my servitude.”
“You are truly evil,” Breadhammer said. “I’ll make sure to make a helmet of your skull.”
“It won’t fit on your melon-sized head.”
“Not for me. For one of my cats.”
“Enough!” Dirja screamed. “Destroy him, golem!”
Stay tuned to this blog for the continuing adventures of Breadhammer.