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WorldofWar.Net Member
Join Date: Oct 2004
Location: Some village in New Zealand
Posts: 236
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A Heroic Tale
The story I am about to tell you is not for the faint of heart, or whimsical of mind, it is a dark tale of suspense and intrigue in which one person finds themselves inextricably weaved into the bonds of fate, and meshed in the schemes of malicious villains with a love of trickery and deception.
A person of such moral integrity, intelligence, and abundance of good looks, as well as being blessed with charm and wit – What’s that? No, its not me, you flatterer.
Nay, although a tale on the endless abundance of my good attributes would doubtless entertain the many listeners, I fear that today we must speak of other things, less important mayhap, of smaller stature, but of undeniable fortitude and rife with that thing which separates the heroes from the commoners… a severe lack of common sense.
And who I might add, awaits his introduction breathlessly.
(It must be briefly noted here, that many races have long held many opinions on the race of Gnomes. For one, they are generally regarded as being rather small, something which even the most irate gnome has trouble denying. And for another, they are known to often have many Capitalized words in even the most mundane conversation, possibly to emphasize Important Words. Or perhaps they just don’t know what the words mean.
Hmm, our hero is getting rather impatient, I best move ahead.)
“The eggs, as you know must be maintained in a most precise saline solution in order for it to be properly preserved.”
There was a flurry of pencils scratching over paper.
“Only when the cohesion of the supplemental chemical compounds has reached the critical solidification point can you proceed to heat the base alkali.”
More rapid flurries of pencils followed the diminutive professor as he hurried back and forth, tending to the various instruments that adorned the desk, in front of an attentive Gnome audience.
“As you can see, the potato, and the er, shoelace that Scrawl helpfully deposited in the beaker have reached the necessary floatation.” There were appreciative murmurs among the audience at Scrawl’s foresight.
The tiny gnome pushed back huge rimmed glasses and blinked owlishly, peering over the top of the large wooden desk.
“And now, um… if you will observe closely, I am now going to carefully release the amniotic nutrients” There was a hushed and awed silence, as the supremely confident gnome tweaked at a small connecting knob.
The sound of squeaking plastic was clearly audible in the large chamber, and then…
BOOM!
There was a mass ripple through the audience as notebooks were skillfully brought up to shield them from randomly falling debris.
There was a slight murmur, then the Gnomes brushed off their notebooks and scribbled furiously, faithfully recording the lecture.
The professor coughed and staggered around the lecture podium, waving off clouds of smoke and he gagged and tumbled to the floor, unfortunately the smoke had temporarily blinded him, and he failed to see the shoelace that caught on his toe.
He tripped and rolled, and fell smokily off the edge of the stage.
The gnomes faithfully scribbled it down.
Suddenly a gong sounded, and the previously filled hall was now emptied so rapidly, that if you had been a bypasser that had briefly poked his nose in for a look, you might not have credited there had been a crowd of bobbing heads at all, if it weren’t for the tiny little footprints stamped all over your unfortunate body.
One of our studious little gnomes had lagged behind though, which was somewhat unusual for him as he had managed to wrestle those devilish shoes on the right feet this morning despite their best intentions.
He clutched a bundle of papers to his chest, ruminating on the Professor’s fascinating lecture on the dynamics of synthetic and natural plant materials.
This studious little Gnome was in fact, Scrawl, who was hobbling along awkwardly, as one of his shoes were now bereft of a shoelace. A sacrifice to a good cause.
Little Scrawls thoughts were now much like that sacrificial lace, bobbing up and down in the cauldron of his mind merrily, twisting this way and that in the manner of bobbing shoelaces.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful, Scrawl thought, when he finished the Gnome schooling (otherwise known as the School for the Vertically Challenged). Only one term remained, and he could take his books, and his knowledge, all the fascinating things he had learned, into the Real World.
What this mythical world would entail for our gnome he wasn’t quite sure, but he was sure he would have Big and Exciting Adventures.
“Pssst!” an odd noise interrupted his day dreaming as he hobbled along down the stone path to the Mess Hall. He looked about him carefully, but he could see nobody about, he looked again carefully anyway, in case they just happened to be shorter than the average gnome.
“Pssst!” that noise came again, and this time Scrawl saw that it was coming from a scraggly collection of bushes just off the pathway, overshadowed by a large grove of trees.
“That’s curious” he said bemusedly as he approached, “ a talking bush. Science really has made progress lately.”
“I’m not a bush, you diminutive twit!” the bush said angrily.
“Oh.” Scrawl was thoughtful. “A shrub then?”
The bush rustled angrily, and suddenly a large man jumped out!
“I’m a highway robber! Now give me all your money!” the large human demanded, a scowl creasing his dark features, he held a dull and previously used dagger in his left hand, and his attire showed that his robbing had been less than successful of late.
Scrawl scratched at his head thoughtfully, trying to pick out those nasty little confusing bugs that bit him at odd times like these.
“I don’t have any money” Scrawl told the Robber.
“Oh.” The Robber seemed a bit crestfallen. “I mean, are you sure? I know student allowances aren’t what they used to be but…”
“Sorry, pockets are empty” he turned them out helpfully, and after a moments consideration showed the Robber empty sleeves as well.
“Wait a minute, you’re a Highway Robber, what are you doing on a Stoneway?” Scrawl asked assertively, managing to pick off one of those bugs. The Robber obviously must have caught it because he looked confused.
“That won’t do at all!” Scrawl exclaimed, “No wonder you’re doing so poorly, here, where you really should be is the Intersection.”
“You think?” the Robber asked dazedly, that bug was burrowing for all it was worth.
“For sure” Scrawl said, feeling pity for a man so down on his luck, but he’d fix that! Obviously just needed a helping hand in the right direction.
“Tell you what” Scrawl said, putting a comradely arm around the man’s kneecap, “just follow the signs to the Intersection, and hide behind one of the Really Big Rocks. I guarantee you’ll have a rich little gnome trudging along inside of fifteen minutes.”
The Robber brightened up immeasurably, a radiant smile rainbowing over his stubbled face, and Scrawl felt a little warm glow inside of him; he was doing Good Deeds already, just like every little gnome should, helping others on their way in the world.
“Gee, thanks little fella, sure glad I ran into you today!” the Robber said happily, “you’ve been a real help. If you ever need a favor, come and find me, I’ll sort you out. Here’s my card.”
Scrawl took the proffered card, it was a neat little white square and it said very simply in bold letters.
* * *
JIMMY UMANY
QUALIFIED ROBBER
Provides top quality service every time.
At a Highway near you!
* * *
It also had a small address at the bottom, but Scrawl had trouble reading it without someone with smaller eyes to read it for him, a common problem among gnome youth apparently.
The Robber was already merrily on his way, waving out cheerily at Scrawl as he trotted down the path.
Mum would be proud.
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