Chapter 4

Gnaughty Gnight Gnomes

Novembre 30, 5599

 

The party found themselves standing knee deep in stagnant, smelly, murky water. Nearby was an island with a single tree rising out of the water. The island was small, no more fifty feet across and was covered by patches of short brown-green grass. As if someone had said something, but nobody had, as one, they all slogged through the water until they stood on the island, shaking the sticky mud off their feet.

“I’m so sorry,” N’kkitta said as she reset the Hopper and slid it home. “This is definitely not where I wanted us to end up.”

“Other than being wet and stinky, I think Stench would have loved it here,” Zift stated, looking around, sniffing to his left and right. “Geez, it smells so bad.” He wrinkled his nose and tried breathing through his mouth. It didn’t really help.

As far as the eye could see, the stagnant water was dotted with the same types trees they had seen while sailing on the Shaarn Tozlu. This was not nice clean water like you might see in a clear lake or in a vast sea, it was brownish-green, foul, and cloudy. There was no way to tell what might be hiding beneath the surface. Clump of grass and other vegetation floated on small islands as the water-born plants slowly moved across the surface, blown by the wind. Ripples on the surface could be seen, caused by unknown creatures swimming or moving around in the dismal darkness of the water. Insects of various sizes skated over the surface, trying their hardest to avoid the creatures from below, who were constantly on the lookout for their next meal.

“Aye, that he would have,” Thorfrn agreed. “Me little green friend does like stinky things.”

“Do you know where we are?” Maidawn looked around, plugging her nostrils with her left hand.

“I . . . I made a mistake.” N’kkitta admitted. “I’m so sorry.”

“Now, now, child,” Alizabet said, as she put an arm around the shoulders of the bloclab. “Wherever we are, we won’t be here for long. The timer should go off shortly and them we can hop right out of here.”

“Oh, drat,” N’kkitta said, having forgotten to set the timer. The numbers finally started to count down.

“The enchantress is correct,” Braunk joined in. “No need to fret. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“I make them all the time, don’t I, sis?” Zift walked over to N’kkitta and encouragingly nudged her with his nose.

“That you do,” Maidawn agreed. “So do I.”

“Me too,” Cyereth piped in. “It’s the best way to learn. I gain more knowledge from when I make a mistake, then when I do something the right way.”

“Yeah, I know that.” N’kkitta smiled at the party and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s just that I accidentally sent us to the worst place possible.”

Maidawn looked and around and whispered, “Is this the Sambeen Slough?”

N’kkitta nodded forlornly. “Yes,” she whispered back.

Alizabet turned around to look at their surroundings. She remembered the story of the only bloclab survivor and how she was never been the same again. Whatever had happened to that poor bloclab, she definitely didn’t want to have happen to anyone in their party. “Everyone, keep your eyes peeled for any danger. No one knows what lives here.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” a small voice said from down near their feet. “I know what lives here.”

The entire party took two hasty steps away from the voice. They turned around  and stared down at the diminutive creature in the middle of their circle.

The tiny being appeared to be about a foot and a half tall. He looked like a small human with a long white beard that came to a point just above his round belly. He wore a patchy green jacket with sleeves that appeared to be a little short, not going all the way to his wrists. His knees showed just below his golden leather shorts. Colorful suspenders ran over his shoulders and attached to both the front and back of his shorts, thereby holding his shorts up. On his feet were red shoes that appeared much too big for his feet, the toes of the shoes curling upward. In his left hand was a gnarly old cane that he used to steady himself. On his head, and this was the strangest thing about the little man, was a purple hat shaped like a cone, the top of it wilting to one side. It was covered in sharp, jagged symbols that seemed to give off a slight glow. This hat was half at tall as the bearded creature. He smiled to the party as he slowly turned in a circle until he stopped in front of the enchantress.

“Let me to introduce myself.” He bowed and tipped his hat to Alizabet. “Frycklepuss Turfwiddle III, at your service. But you may call me Fryck. All my friends do. And, by the way, you are standing on my home.”

“Oh, gosh,” Maidawn said, looking at the strange little being. “We are sorry to have disturbed you. We won’t be here long at all.”

“Tut-tut,” Fryck replied. “I rarely have visitors. You’re breaking up the monotony of my day. I’m glad for the diversion.”

Zift stepped forward. “Excuse me. May I ask . . . what are you?”

“What are you?” the small person retorted, staring intently at the large canine.

“I’m a welcorg from the Sherran Hills.”

“Well, that’s a new one.” Fryck removed his hat and scratched the top of his head, mussing up his already unruly hair. “I’m a gnome, by the way. Actually, I am a Gnight Gnome, to be more specific.”

“A Night Gnome?”

Fryck shook his head at Zift. “You almost had it. It’s Gnight, with a silent ‘G’ in the front.”

“Uh,” Zift replied, wondering what he meant. Silent G. I don’t even know what that means. I just repeated what he said.

Alizabet frowned. She searched her memory for this branch of the gnomes. She knew of the gnomes that lived at Mir’r Lake, but they are Gnose Gnomes, named after their rather large, bulbous noses. Then there were the Gnat Gnomes that lived in Flft Woods, so named because of their diminutive stature. Lastly, she had met with many of the Gneiss Gnomes that lived at the foothills below Mt. Héinrich. They have made their dwellings among the old lava flows and happened to be some of the nicest tiny folks in all of Chelt. But, as for Gnight Gnomes, not only had she never met one, she hadn’t even heard of them. I wonder what the difference is?

Maidawn squatted down to get closer to the height of the gnome. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Fryck. My name is Maidawn.”

Fryck eyes her up and down and then held out his hand, as if offering to shake her hand, even though Maidawn’s hand was four times as big as the gnome’s.

Zift heard something behind him and he swung his head around. Another Gnight Gnome was approaching him from a behind, a friendly smile on her face. Zift nodded at her and turned around to face Fryck. That was when he noticed more of the gnomes, each of them approaching the rear of every member of his party.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Fryck said as he stretched his hand out toward Maidawn’s hand grabbed hold of her index finger.

Maidawn froze. Her eyes closed and her head fell to her chest.

All of the other Gnight Gnomes reached out and touched the leg of the party member in front of them.

Everyone’s eyes slowly closed as their heads lolled forward.

In Maidawn’s mind, the memory of the first time that she and Zift had met Thorfyn Throkreaver sprang into focus.

She sat astride her brother’s back as they moved closer to the a cave opening that a cloud of dust was billowing out of.

Maidawn leaped off of Zift, and the two tentatively approached the cave entrance.

They stopped as they heard some cursing coming from within, and then some coughing.

Out of the cave stumbled an extremely dirty being. They could not tell what it was, as it was surrounded by a cloud of dust. Maidawn rested her hands on the pommels of her swords, and Zift was ready to call forth Ripper, if he needed to.

The being bent over, coughing. He cleared his throat of phlegm, trying to remove the dust. He straightened and tottered on his feet. Maidawn saw that he was shorter than she was, by a bit, but he was quite wide. He had a beard that was barely three inches in length, and his arms were thick with muscles. The monochrome humanoid dropped his pick, plopped down on the ground, and gulped in deep breaths of fresh air. After a moment, he realized that he wasn’t alone.

He jumped up and grabbed his pick, brandishing it in front of him.

“This be me mine!” he said in a gravelly voice. “Scat, ya varmints!”

Zift started to turn away, but Maidawn spoke up, “We aren’t interested in your mine. We heard a loud noise and came to investigate.” She pointed at him and asked, “Are you okay? And, are you a dwarf?”

“Oh,” the dwarf said, holding the pick tightly in one hand. “Aye,” he said, his shoulders straightened as he turned back to face the cave. “It all be gone, dang nabbit,” he said with anger in his voice.

“What’s all gone?” Zift asked, turning to look at the cave entrance.

“Everythin’ I worked at for the last couple of years,” the dwarf said. “It just makes me so mad that the blasted mine failed me.” He kicked some pebbles toward the opening, and then shrugged his shoulders.

“What do you mean?” Maidawn asked. She didn’t know anything about mining, as welcorgs prefer to remain in the open. “What were you doing with your mine? Is that where you live?”

The dwarf shook his head. “Nay, lass. I left me home seven years ago lookin’ for a mountain to mine. Me pa sent me, tellin’ me not to return until I found some treasures for him. Three years ago, I stumbled upon this mountain and could smell the precious stones buried within,” he said, tapping the side of his nose with an index finger. “I worked every day since then, minin’ this rottin’ cave. I had quite a few piles of rough jewels and stones in there, I did. I made me piles of stones at the end of the cave, thinkin’ that someone would have to get past me if they wanted to steal ‘em. No way I was going to let that happen. I’d kill anyone that tried, I tell you. Then just a few moments ago, I was takin’ a wee nap when a blasted beatle crawled up me nose,” the dwarf said, pointing at his large, left nostril.

“Ewww,” Maidawn said, scrunching up her face in distaste.

Zift just smirked, enjoying the thought of the dwarf being in pain.

 “I’ll tell you what, it wasn’t a good way to wake up,” the dwarf continued. “I tried to dig it out, but it was up there too far and me fingers are just too durned fat. Then I sneezed, thinkin’ that would blow the little bugger out. It didn’t. So, I sneezed again, this time quite violently, knocking meself into one of the support columns I had been sleepin’ near. I heard a crack and looked up. The support column had moved to the side and the support beam that was holdin’ up the roof shifted. That’s when I started runnin’ for the entrance like I had a pack of hungry trolls behind me. I could hear the other support beams fallin’ as the entire mine started collapsin’ around me,” he said, wiping his forehead with his right hand.

“I don’t think I ever ran so fast in me life,” the dwarf continued. “I barely made it out of there still with the livin’.”

“That’s just horrible,” Maidawn said, taking a step toward the dwarf.

“I have nuttin’ left,” the Thorfrn said, “except this ol’ pick, and these.” The dwarf reached into his pocket and withdrew a handful of precious uncut stones. “Not much for four years searchin’ and more years minin’.”

Zift’s eyes squinted together as he stared hungrily at the stone’s in the dwarf’s hand.

Thorfrn noticed the look on the welcorg’s face and quickly shoved the stones back in his pocket. “Whatcha looking at, dog boy.”

Zift snarled at the dwarf and shook his shoulders back and forth as he slowly squatted, digging his pawhands into the loose soil for more purchase.

“Just a dirty, stinking dwarf that has something that I want.”

“Oh yeah,” the dwarf said, gripping his pick in both of his hands. “Why don’t you come and try to take them.”

“Hey,” Maidawn said worriedly. “This isn’t how it happened.”

“Shut up, sis.” Zift growled, as he launched himself forward. He ran about ten paces directly at the dwarf and then leapt into the air, Ripper’s claws sliding forth. He let out a victory howl as he descended toward his waiting victim.

The welcorg, having only fought other welcorgs, didn’t know what to expect from this dwarf. His overconfidence was about to be his undoing.

As Zift descended toward Thorfrn, the dwarf raised his pick in front of him and smashed the welcorg on top of his armored head.

With a loud clang ringing in his ears, Zift crashed into the ground. Quick as lightning, he was back on his feet, slashing at the dwarf. One of his blades on his right pawhand found its mark and slashed across the young dwarf’s left arm. Blood started to freely flow down the dwarf’s arm to drip off of his bend elbow to the dirt below.

Thorfrn’s dwarven cursed flowed out his mouth. Tentatively, he placed his left hand on the handle of his pick and squeezed. He nodded, realizing he could still fight.

The pain only made the dwarf angrier. “These not be your stones.”

“They’re mine if I want them to be.” Zift moves to the dwarf’s left, trying to get to Thorfrn’s injured side.

Maidawn stood with her hand clenched to her chest. I don’t understand. This isn’t what happened at all. We became Thorfrn’s friends and he joined our party. Why is this happening?

“Zift, stop it!” she screamed at him.

He ignored her.

The dwarf wasn’t stupid. He knew what the large dog was doing, so he played along, moving his grip up the pick. He turned with Zift, and pretended to stumble over a rock.

Zift saw his opening and leapt forward.

Thorfrn swung his pick around and embedded it the left side of Zift’s chest, just behind his left front leg.

Zift howled in pain and then slumped to the ground.

Thorfrn tore the pick free, ready for more.

But the damage had been done, as the pick had punctured both of the welcorg’s lungs. As he tried to catch his breath, blood bubbled out of his mouth, blocking his ability to breath. With a final shutter, Zift’s chest rose no more.

“NO!” Maidawn screamed, her Amber magic welling up inside her. She ran toward her dead brother, both hands outstretched toward him. Bolts of lightning streaked down her arms and flew from her body, slamming into the dwarf’s chest, exiting through his back.

Thorfrn dropped his pick and looked down to the large, gaping hole in his chest. His eyes rolled up into his head and he fell over backwards.

The gnightmare instantly vanished.

Maidawn, breathing heavily, looked to find Fryck lying on the ground about ten feet away, smoke rising from his body, his clothing tattered and singed. His hat had toppled from his head and slowly burned, making popping sounds as the material turned to ash. She noticed that his chest was rising and falling, as the gnome was still breathing.

Maidawn quickly looked around and spied her brother and the Yellowbeard Dwarf. He was alive, and so was Thorfrn. She sighed in relief.

A beeping sound drew her attention and she realized that N’kkitta’s alarm was going off, but the bloclab was ignoring it. In fact, the entire party was ignoring it. They all looked like they were asleep, but were standing up. Each of them was twitching and groaning. Then she noticed the Gnight Gnomes, one behind each of her friends, their tiny hands touching each one of them. She realized that Alizabet and everyone else were all having their  own private gnightmares.

Not wanting to shoot bolts of lightning at her friends and possibly injuring them, she opted to draw one of her Amber Swords. Torrid started jabbering away inside her head, asking her why Jati wasn’t out too.

Shh, quiet now, she thought.

Torrid stopped talking, feeling the tenseness in Maidawn.

She walked behind Zift, and using the flat of her blade, she swatted the Gnight Gnome that was touching the welcorg’s right rear leg, across the small grassy island. It tumbled head over heels through the grass until it splashed in the water and sank from sight.

Zift opened his eyes and turned around, noticing his sister. “Oh, thank goodness you’re alive. I just had the worst dream. You and I were—“

“Not now, Zift. We can talk about it later. We need to save our friends. Don’t touch the Gnight Gnomes. I’ll knock them away with my swords.”

“No problem. I never want to meet one of these ghastly little creatures again.” He shuttered, his horrid dream still vivid in his memory.

A few minutes later, everyone was free from the clutches of the Gnight Gnomes.

“That was horrible,” Cyereth said as she shivered and hugged herself.

“The wee beasties should be killed,” Thorfrn muttered, spying Flyck laying on the ground.

“I will admit,” Braunk stated with a slight quiver in his strong voice, “I do not think I will ever be able to forget what I saw. It was horrendous.”

Alizabet used a spell to remove the memory of her gnightmare from her mind. She sighed contently.

“Now I know what poor Oll’vvia went through. She was stuck here for days. I can’t imagine what seeing all those gnightmares would do to a being.” As she rambled on, she made adjustments to the Hopper. Finally, she nodded her head and zeroed in a spatial pocket just on the other side of the Boscares River in the Cayuse Plains.

“Are we ready to get out of here?” Maidawn asked, looking down at the Hopper.

“Everyone, gather in a circle.” Alizabet grabbed Maidawn’s hand and waved the others closer.

“You aren’t going anywhere!” Fryck said as he jumped to his feet and started running toward them.

The blue bubble enveloped the party as Zift stuck his tongue out at the quickly approaching gnome.

The bubble popped leaving Frycklepuss Turfwiddle III by himself.

He slid to a stop, leaned back with his hands balled into fists, and screamed into the sky, “No! We didn’t get enough to eat! Come back here! Come back!”