Month: May 2016

Norman twenty-four-names Darktop, Rhiann Klarje, and Iyaca Vassi left the livery and made the short walk to the Burgomaster’s manor. For Gnome-town it was an opulent dwelling, and it compared to the better homes in Thynna’s outer ward. Most of the Burgomaster’s dwelling was above ground, but his bedchamber was cut out of an earthen mound with a thick blackthorn growth over it. Gnomes, even Burgomasters, felt more comfortable sleeping underground. Before dinner Rhiann treated himself to a warm bath in a hot spring and donned fresh raiment. True to Twenty-four names’ word Madam Darktop had prepared a succulent feast. Fruits of the forest and various and sundry tubers joined the roasted blooter on the oversized table. After dinner Rhiann exchanged stories with the Burgomaster and his life-mate. Young Iyaca scurried about and did the High Gnome’s bidding. Rhiann rather enjoyed the informality of the affair. Later Iyaca led him to a guest room that looked out over the now empty plaza of the village. The accommodation lacked the lavishness of the chamber Rhiann used during his stay at the Hanging Gardens, but the bed was as comfortable as anything Rhiann had slept in Thynna. Young Klarje slept well. On the morrow Rhiann joined the Burgomaster for a delicious breakfast. Madam Darktop’s tetraberry pancakes rivaled Rhiann’s mother’s.

Storming Norman asked, “Young Klarje, Iyaca’s parents came from Plano, a hamlet near Flat Rock. Do you know what sorcerers are called in Plano?’

Rhiann said, “Uh… no, Burgomaster.”

Norman said, “Just plain ole sorcerers.”

The hulking Gnome shook with laughter. He continued, “Young Klarje, why can’t my nose be 12 inchworm lengths long?”

Rhiann carefully declined to answer, fearing he’d insult the haughty Gnome.

Storming Norman said, “Tell him, Iyaca!”

Iyaca said, “Cause then it’d be a foot.”

Iyaca laughed and gently nudged Rhiann. Rhiann suffered a chuckle. Iyaca whispered, “It’s good to laugh at his jokes, no matter how bad they are.”

Rhiann reached into his pocket and removed a thick blue nu hide pouch. The hidden Omega Stone warmed at his touch. Faint gray auras surrounded the sack. Touching the stone inexplicably reassured the young sorcerer. He probed the pouch and removed an exquisite emerald and large chuck of deep blue lapis lazuli. The young sorcerer said, “We’d never dream of shortchanging you, Burgomaster Darktop. Your hospitality reigns supreme. My uncle is … uh, negotiating for companions to accompany us to the Copper Mountains. We have business with the armorer Roswell.”

Rhiann extended the emerald and lapis lazuli to the stout Gnome’s strong hand. Storming Norman was only a finger length shorter than Rhiann. He towered over five feet tall and was easily twice Rhiann’s girth. His arms bulged with muscles. A long thick red beard extended nigh to hidden navel. He wore well-made leather armor and carried a heavy Warhammer. He was seldom without the weapon. Norman projected a charismatic aura and exuded confidence.

The Burgomaster said, “Ah, you have your uncle’s gift of gab and share his ability to kiss a**. The mark on your chin has a proper resting place. Young Klarje, your uncle has aided me many times, as I have oft abetted him. He is wise to recruit guards. The way to the mines remains perilous. It’s only two years since the fearsome foursome smote young Iyaca’s parents. Iyaca’s parents hailed from a little hamlet called Plano, near the northernmost fringes of the Veldt and not far from Low Gap. The Vassis were sorcerers of modest ability. They went to Thynna to hope to learn more and better themselves through further knowledge of Magick. The Council of Thynna denied them entry. They and their son Iyaca found passage with a merchant caravan headed for the Samm Hills. The caravan stopped off here for a bit. The fearsome foursome’s lot fell upon the caravan and killed everyone but young Iyaca. They toyed with his life. Eventually they left him alive and orphaned. Miners returning from the Copper Mountains found the boy and brought him to me. I’ve put a big price on the fearsome foursome’s heads in hopes some of their own might turn against them, but Waylon, Willie, Kris, and their leader the man in black have too much of a stranglehold on the brigands’ world. Scumbags all! Young Iyaca is a fine page. He learns quickly and serves well. I’d prefer he be with his own folk, but we seldom see sorcerers, other than your wayfaring Uncle Mayard. He certainly isn’t a good option for caring for a youth, present company excepted, of course.”

Iyaca interrupted, “I hate the fearsome foursome. The Council of Thynna denied us entry to the city of Magick. I hate them more!”

Rhiann asked, “Understandably so. What is your talent, Iyaca?”

Iyaca said, “Talent?”

Rhiann said, “Magick. What can you do?”

Iyaca said, “Magick. So far there’s no sign it touches me.”

Rhiann continued, “You said Magick does not touch you, but most everyone on Sagain has a talent of some sort.?”

Iyaca answered, “The Darktops say I’m good with words and letters. I enjoy reading and writing. I came to my parents late in their lives. Both had lived long. So I suppose I’m long-winded and probably long-living, provided I don’t run into a highwayman’s blade.”

Rhiann said, “I surely hope you avoid that fate.”

Rhiann’s seasons were limited but he knew well many of Mayard’s stories and relayed many to the youth. Daylight faded. Farriers bedded down the livestock and activity ebbed in the livery. Mayard and Longbeard Nineteen-lives remained away.

A voice boomed, “Where is Mayard Klarje? I hear he is in town, but he has not sought audience with me. Has he placed me on the pay-no-mind list?”

Iyaca Vassi jumped up and said, “Burgomaster! Sorcerer Klarje is not here!”

Rhiann reflexively jumped up also.

Burgomaster Storming Norman Twenty-four-names Darktop peered at Rhiann and said, “Oh, yet I see the mark of the Klarjes. Isn’t stable work a bit demeaning for a sorcerer of your caliber, young Klarje?”

Rhiann stammered, “Sir, your lordship, I’m Rhiann Klarje. Mayard is my great uncle. I’ve been enjoying the company of Iyaca and your excellent sarsaparilla and waybread. My uncle stepped out with Longbeard Nineteen-names.”

Norman bellowed, “Yeah, I’m sure they stepped away to the tavern. Mayard promised me some gems from the Gem Bush and a souvenir from one of the Seven Wonders of the Veldt. The bugger had best not try to hoodwink me.”

Rhiann studied the youth and said, “Iyaca, how did you come to live in Gnome-town?”

Iyaca Vassi shuffled his feet and hesitated. Finally, he replied, “Do you want a sarsaparilla? My main task is crushing the plant stuff that makes the base of the beverage. People come from near and far to taste Gnome-town’s sarsaparilla.”

Rhiann said, “I am thirsty. That’d be fine.”

Iyaca Vassi hurried away and soon returned with a frosty mug. Rhiann took a sip and said, “It’s very good. How long have you been in Gnome-town?”

Iyaca was again evasive and said, “Would you like a pastry? Madam Darktop’s Gnomish waybread will keep you filled up all day. And it tastes good too!”

Rhiann answered, “Fine.”

The youth again scurried away and soon returned with warm, buttery slices of bread. Rhiann sampled it. Flavors of honey, byneberries, and ginger dominated the taste. Iyaca beamed as he watched Rhiann enjoy the repast. Rhiann nodded his appreciation, and Iyaca was clearly pleased with his efforts.

Rhiann said, “My name is Rhiann Klarje. I’m a sorcerer from Thynna. I’m following in my uncle’s footsteps. I’m sixteen years old. My Uncle Mayard and I are on a quest to the Copper Mountains. I’m grateful for the sarsaparilla and waybread.”

Iyaca sat on a bale of hay, chewed on a thick piece of straw, and said, “As Longbeard said, my name is Iyaca Vassi. I’m 8 years old. I live with Burgomaster Darktop’s servants. The Gnomes took me in two years ago after highwaymen ambushed a merchant caravan that my parents and I were traveling with. The highwaymen killed everyone but me. They laughed about doing me in. The biggest one was called the Man in Black. He stopped the meanest one Kris from cutting my throat. My parents were sorcerers like you. Well, Magick touched them.”

Rhiann said, “I’m sorry about your parents, Iyaca. I’ve traveled with my uncle a lot and have been away from Thynna. I remember hearing of the attack. The Council of Thynna sent guards to investigate and try to recover the stolen merchandise. The guards failed to capture the highwaymen and some were killed by arrows from snipers. It was believed the fearsome foursome fomented the deed.”

p-Mayard guffawed, “Ah, now I know it’s you in that visage, Boss. You’ve said a couple of things that perplexed me since we left Thynna. Once you spoke of your Uncle Mayard. Made me wonder.”

Rhiann quickly responded, “I’m just getting settled in my role. Changing my visage doesn’t come naturally to me. It’s been a long time since I was young.”

p-Mayard returned, “That’s how Magick seems to me. Must you continuously concentrate on the spell that changes you to your nephew’s visage? If so, what happens should you need to cast another spell?”

Rhiann answered, “Cancelling my spell and removing my visage requires either a Dispel Magick by a sorcerer more powerful than I am or my willfully removing it. If I must, I’ll use Magick. To be honest I’ve kept sulfur within my reach since we left Thynna in case we needed protection.”

p-Mayard laughed again and said, “You crack me up, Boss. Those highwaymen are lucky we stuck to the main road and they stayed away, otherwise, you’d have singed their asses.”

Rhiann said, “I’ll be all right without a night of drinking. You’d best get back in role. Longbeard Nineteen-names is headed this way. There’s a very young lad with him. He’s nigh as tall as Longbeard. Definitely not Gnomish.”

Nineteen-names boomed, “Mayard, if you have finished entertaining your nephew, I’m thirsty. Young Klarje, this is Iyaca Vassi. He’ll get you sarsaparilla, summer sausage, honeydew, or anything we have that you desire.”

Iyaca Vassi was a sandy-haired, clean-faced youth. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old and not Gnomish Young Gnomes had beards from age three.

p-Mayard quickly replied, “We know it’s safe. We’re waiting for Longbeard Nineteen Names. We will pay well for the care of our animals.

The old Gnome said, “Your reputation precedes you, Sorcerer Mayard Klarje. I, Rutie Twenty-names Bager, will attend your goods.”

The Shapechanger gratefully answered, “Ah, Rutie Twenty-names. Though I’ve not before had the pleasure of your acquaintance, I also know your story. Only you have the tenure and tenacity to challenge Storming Norman.”

Rhiann was inwardly relieved. p-Mayard remained convinced he traveled with Mayard in Rhiann-guise and was quite convincing in his role as the elder sorcerer. So far Rhiann’s little slips had not blown his cover. P-Mayard had traveled extensively with Mayard Klarje and knew many of the older Gnomes, though he had met them in his shopkeeper Lennard guise. The Shapechanger struck up conversations and relayed stories of the Hanging Gardens and the Seven Wonders of the Veldt. His stories mesmerized the hard-working farriers and stable boys. Younger Gnomes prodded p-Mayard for demonstrations of Magick, but the wily Shapechanger deftly dodged the requests. Rhiann kept a wary eye on the wagon laden with goods from Thynna, which were dedicated for the miners. True to Rudie’s word no one approached the wagon. In a little while a booming voice heralded the arrival of Longbeard Nineteen-names. Longbeard broke into a long conversation with p-Mayard.

The Shapechanger with subtlety approached Rhiann and asked, “Boss, are you sure you are all right with this arrangement? I mean, I hate for you to miss out on the brewmaster’s wares and know how much you enjoy having a pint or two or three. The Gnomes are convinced you are young Rhiann and I’m not really sure I understand why the deception remains necessary, but I’m pretty sure I can keep them fooled. I hate to leave you here with this horse s***.”

Rhiann in character quipped, “I’d rather deal with horse s*** than the Council of Thynna.”

“My little friend Jacques arrived at Flat Rock and tried to buy prismatic dragon scales and shypoke eggshells. Apparently Kobolds don’t recognize the rareness of these items. The blighter wears an Amulet of Passage, but nonetheless Hobart sent him to me. Jacques seems to have a lot more money than sense. For a kobold, he bore great treasure, no shortage of wealth. I’ve never seen so many rare crystals. Although I allowed him to retain his treasures, I detained and questioned him about Koorlost. It seems Jacques Dawson can’t or won’t keep his mouth shut. He brags of being the personal friend of Lord Boton and avows the Head of the Order of Dark Sorcerers personally gave him the Amulet of Passage. I can’t imagine the Dark Sorcerers letting this character out of their sight.

“Lord Alisskirin, Jacques Dawson describes a Pentagram in detail. The Kobold says he constructed a special room deep beneath Koorlost’s donjon but beyond its outer curtain. Created from the mud of Lovills River, the pentagram in this room bore great significance to Lord Boton, and the Head of the Order of Dark Sorcerers personally supervised the construction. He describes the three walls separating the citadel from the Lovills River. Your observations have confirmed much of what he has said. If what Dawson says is true, we are badly outnumbered on the field. Roaring Gap, the mountains, which separate the plains east of the Laurels and North Rocalina, and the Veldt create geographical barriers and give us a tactical advantage. But Jacques Dawson says the Lords of Koorlost have summoned beings that don’t mind fire and heat. Their great resources allow them to use large numbers of ogres to carry mud and line the wall walk of the outer curtain with trolls. The Veldt poses no barrier to such an army.”

“I have met this Dawson. He is a blowhard. One must take what he says with a whole block of salt, not just a grain. We ought not put much stock in what he says,” Taekora inserted.

“I resemble that remark,” Jacques Dawson’s voice squeaked from the far reaches of the cone of silence. The kobold sauntered into the chamber.

p-Mayard said, “If only I did. But I’ll treat you a few rounds at Sparty’s. I’m a bit thirsty too.”

Longbeard said, “Sounds good. Huey, Dewey, and Louie are due to relieve us soon. Why don’t you go on to the livery and quarter your team? Your companion looks a bit young for the tavern. The lads in the livery ought to have some sarsaparilla that he could drink. We bottle it here and harvest the plants from the hillsides above town. Gnome-town sarsaparilla will make your muscles strong and your beard grow long!”

Pseudo-Mayard puffed, “He… uh, he’s a lot older than he looks.”

Longbeard Nineteen Names observed, “Ah, I see that he bears the mark of the Klarjes, so must be related to you.”

Mayard’s doppelganger answered, “That’s my great nephew Rhiann. He’s my apprentice and the son of my niece Caye. He can hold his own.”

Longbeard said, “If you trust him, that’s good enough for me. However, if Madam Darktop hears of anyone under age being served in the tavern, she’ll have everyone’s hide. Storming Norman Darktop, even with his twenty-four names, only thinks he wears the pants in his family and leads this conurbation. He’d best wait in the livery.”

Rhiann said, “I don’t mind Uncle Mayard. Mother wouldn’t want me imbibing strong spirits.”

p-Mayard still thought Rhiann was Mayard and thought getting him into the cozy tavern’s confines constituted a favor and said, “So be it, Boss, uh, Rhiann. You’ll be missing fine ale and mead.”

The Shapechanger urged the bovines forward and headed toward the center of the walled town and the stables. Gnomes busily attended their affairs all about. Mayard’s doppelganger maneuvered the wagon and its team to a position within the main complex. Attendants helped guide the big bovines toward the wall. Gnomish farriers tended the beasts in the stables with expertise and compassion.  Blue nus, red machis, and a single phi gamm rested in stalls. Various equines munched on carefully prepared trail mix. Particular attention was given to stout little halvsies, the favorite steeds of the Gnomish folk. Halvsies were not unexpectedly about half the size of the large workhorses that shared the well-kept livery stalls. Farriers unhitched the team of phi gamms and left them to a large pen socked with an ample supply of grasses. Rhiann and the Shapechanger stood awkwardly by the heavily loaded wagon.

An older Gnomish farrier said matter-of-factly, “You can leave it. Gnomes don’t steal.”

 

Gnomes were expert diggers and equally comfortable under and above ground. Two mounds of earth flanked the entrance to Gnome along the main road. Small wooden doors in sturdy frames were set into the mounds of dirt. Thick green moss covered the mounds and little chimneys protruded from the tops of the mounds. When the phi gamms neared the entrance to town, Gnomes came through the doors in the earthen works. The Gnome on the right walked with the spring of youth in his step whilst the old bloke that came through the left door assisted his gait with a blackthorn cudgel. The older Gnome sported a long gray beard and went by the name Longbeard. Gnomes received a given and family name at birth and added other monikers as their lives played out. As a result, Gnomes had very long names by the time they reached Longbeard’s age. Longbeard had nineteen components to his moniker. Burgomaster Storming Norman had 24.

Longbeard said, “Mayard Klarje, a sight for sore eyes!”

Rhiann mutter under his breath, “Uh-oh! Trouble!”

However, Mayard’s doppelganger said, “Longbeard Nineteen Names… how have you been?” Per plan p-Mayard did most of the talking.

The Gnome answered, “To be honest, bored a bit. The Burgomaster demands we watch this road but nothing ever happens. Highwaymen aren’t going to risk running afoul of us and Thynna’s security forces. They are more interested in couriers and miners returning from the mountains laden with raw ore and untraceable stones. I’d rather pursue the perpetrators to their lairs. Groups of kobolds have infested the foothills, and the fearsome foursome, the highwaymen Waylon, Willie, Johnny, and Kris openly brag of their thievery.”

The Shapechanger said, “You’d best stay out of the foothills, Longbeard. Dangerous!”

Longbeard replied, “They’d be the ones in danger. Norman has doubled the guards on caravans to the mountains. That leaves fewer of us to do this ****. Don’t suppose you’d have a bit of that nectar from the Hanging Gardens on you? I’ve gotten a dry throat from this guard duty.”

The phi gamms tirelessly trudged forward. Streams crossed the plain north of Thynna and provided ample water sources for the big bovines. Plants growing in the water served as nourishment for the beasts of burden. The weather held and they made good time.

p-Mayard said, “With any luck we’ll make Gnome before dark. I could use a good ale.”

Rhiann looked nervously around and replied, “I’m still worried about the highwaymen. We’ve passed lots of bends in the road that’d give them good cover.”

The Shapechanger said, “Are you all right, Boss? The road between Thynna and Gnome has always been pretty safe. Brigands won’t risk riling the council of Thynna and Storming Norman, the Burgomaster of Gnome. He’s the orneriest little bloke I’ve run across. Good for us that you are on such good terms with him. He’ll be expecting to wet his beak. Hope you brought some extra gems.”

Rhiann quickly replied, “I’ll let you do all the talking. You are the one that looks like May… uh, me.” Rhiann already had one slip of the tongue when he had spoken of Uncle Mayard when they were leaving Thynna.

p-Mayard laughed, “Good idea! Just as long as one of us doesn’t look or act like a kobold, we’ll be OK. Also, we can’t try to fool the Gnomes on the value of a stone. They are expert craftsmen, but you know that. Did anybody ever tell you why they named their town Gnome?”

Rhiann answered, “It’s been called Gnome as long as anyone remembers. Gnomes and kobolds have mutual enmity. We won’t bring up kobolds. We’re mainly looking for a safe place to stay.”