Topic: No Gnomes are Good Gnomes

Lord Ayreg

Date: 2006-02-23 15:41 EST
Ayreg sat in the silverforge the day after his latest dream. He had just finished an inscription on a silver locket, and wrapped it carefully up in paper inside a small box and marked it ready for delivery. Since the smithy had hired those gnomes, Ayreg has been developing a rather singular headache, and one that continued to build day by day in the forge.

One of the gnomes bounced into the silversmith. It truly looked laughable. Striped pantaloons, a puffy shirt, and a ridiculous eye-patch that Ayreg knew for a fact the gnome didn't need. "'Arrr, matey! The cap'n wants to know if ye' got that broach order finished!"

"He's not a captain, Thistle, and you're not a pirate. Now take off that silly hat and take this to him." Ayreg turned, tossing a somewhat larger box toward Thistle, the Gnomish pirate-turned-whipping boy.

"Avast, laddie, ye' just wished ye' had an ostrich-feathered hat like this!" he grabbed at the box in the air, and bounded back into the smithy-proper. Ayreg grumbled to himself, noting that the hat had a wide enough brim for him to wear it. Gnomes really had no business in civilized society.

Sharp-topped hardy in hand, Ayreg tapped the edge of the hardy against the stock he had been working on, and it snapped off, falling to the edge of the tiny anvil. He sniffed, tongs putting the the useless piece of the silver bar into a small bowl of oil to quench its heat before he tossed it out. Shaping the piece of silver, he knew this one was going to eventually become some kind of necklace, he just wasn't sure exactly what yet.

Another gnome bounced in, "`Ey, I-Reg" it started, making Jodiah grind his teeth as the gnome mispronounced his name. Probably on purpose, "Cap'n says the broach is 'sposed to have a dragon on the center, mate."

"Tell him it does," he started, focused intently on the piece of silver that would soon be the centerpiece of a fine necklace, "and if he ever left the forge from time to time to actually see a dragon, he'd know this."

"But the cap'n--"

"--Will not save you if you continue to bother me. Get out."

Dohick the Gnome fled the silverforge then, leaving Ayreg in blissfull peace. For now. Somewhere else in the forge, though, Ayreg heard the three little blighters start to sing again.

"We pillage, we plunder, we're really bad eggs; drink up, me hearties, yo-ho....!"

"I really hate those gnomes" he grumbled.

Lord Ayreg

Date: 2006-02-23 23:31 EST
Joshel the Large (the Gnome) squints at him through one eye, the other covered by a metallic eyepatch. Unlike Thistle the Gnome, though, Joshel the Large (the Gnome) actually did need it. "Garrr. What `ave we here? Another beller yellied land blubber, eh? By the looks of ye, someone's mudder didnt know when ta throw a bad fish back. Har har!"

Ayreg's eyes turned upward, his head slowly turning away from the silver necklace he had been working on for several hours now. "What do you mean, bad fish?"

"That means I'm callin ya ugly as a piece o' whale blubber, but twice as bad smellin, ya son of a water treadin salt-dog! Yer about as smart as the slime we use ta patch our boat hull, aren't ya?" Joshel the Large (the Gnome) said back, rising up to his full height of about 3'4". Just a little shorter than Ayreg sitting on his miniature stool, for that matter.

Ayreg sniffed, thinking of about a hundred ways to kill the little gnome for interrupting him. Again. "Where is this boat of yours?"

Joshel the Large (the Gnome) shrugged, but quickly stood back up to the awe-inspiring 3'4". "Arrrr! So we ain't got a boat right now. What's that got ta do with anythin'? Just cause we ain't got a boat, or a way to sail the waters, or even know how ta sail, don't mean we aren't crusty and dangerous. Just watch yerself cause we're mean!"

Ayreg stood, rolling to his feet like quicksilver. He takes long, slow, calculated steps around the work bench that the smithy assigned him to, abandoning the silver necklace for the moment. "You're.. mean?"

Joshel the Large (the Gnome) shouted, pumping his little gloved fist up at the death knight. "Thats right! We're mean, nasty, devious 'n cruel! We'll knock ya down, bite yer knees, and steal yer money. Arrr! We won't always say please and thank you, either! Just remember that, and don't be tryin' anyhin' funny."

Ayreg crouched down beside the little gnome who, like all the others who started working at the blacksmith's shop, believed he was a pirate. "And... what do you consider... `funny`?"

Joshel the Large (the Gnome) suddenly didn't try to be quite as tall as he was trying to be a few minutes ago. He shrugged his shoulders again, shoving tiny hands into tiny pockets. "Uh, I dunno what funny stuff. No one's ever asked that one. You know, just be nice ta everyone I guess. Think ya can do that?"

Joshel the Large (the Gnome) went flying out of the silver shop. Tiny arms and tiny legs flailing in the air, the other gnomes turned around and kind of gave a singular "Arrrr!" amongst the lot of them. They gathered, trying to soften the fall of Joshel the Large (the Gnome). In the end, Frankel the Gnome, Thistle the Gnome, Joshel the Large (the Gnome), Dohick the Gnome, Relit, Ritap, Rendap, Tsiolos the Swabby, and Zorbenastrocalipermeneotullis (otherwise known as Bob) ended up in a pile of flailing little arms and legs in the middle of the smithy's customer area. A few parrot feathers drifted down in the air, but he wouldn't be able to tell which one actually had the parrot tied to his shoulder this time.

Ayreg stood in the door, his perpetual frown creasing his face, and stared at them. A single gnome head popped up, unneeded eyepatch hanging to the side, and a fake peg-leg half-hanging off his up-turned knee. "Arrr, we won't be forgetting this one, mate!" Zorbenastrocalipermeneotullis (otherwise known as Bob) said. The Pile O' Gnomes responded with a uniamous "Arrr!"

Ayreg merely turned around, and closed the door leading into the silver shop.

"I really hate those gnomes" he grumbled.

Lord Ayreg

Date: 2006-02-24 08:03 EST
The door to the silversmith opened slowly, squeeling on its hinges. Ayreg's eyes cut up to the door, having just finished making the exquisite loop on the top of the pendant that will be hanging from the silver necklace itself. He sniffed to himself, going back to his work.

Relit, Ritap, and Rendap -- three brothers, all gnomes, all pirates -- leapt out from behind the edge of his work bench. He supposed if he turned around, they'd be in some kind of goofy pose, attempting to look frightening for what he did to Joshel the Large (the Gnome).

But he did not turn around. "Garr, what've we here, bruddas?" asked Rendap.

"A big bully!" said Relit, fingering the cutlass at his waist. It was so small, Ayreg was certain it would have to be a toy, without actually examining what the blade was made of. "Ye' saw what he did ta Joshel, boys!"

Ayreg put the pendant down, sighing to himself. He's really going to have to knock a few teeth out, now. He spun around on his stool, looking down at the silly gnomes. "Let's 'av 'is guts f'er garters, sez I!" said Ritap in an accented voice that was harsher than even his cohorts.

Ritap leapt up at Ayreg, brandishing some kind of knife. For the gnome, it may as well have been a somewhat shorter sword. Ayreg shot up from the stool, catching the gnome by his tiny wrist and turned, using the momentum from the swing to propel the little annoyance over the work bench. Somewhere else in the room, Ritap landed with a small crash.. probably demonstration wares, or some such. He'd have to kill those little beasts.

A dagger -- for the gnomes, another short-sword -- was plunged down into his knee, and Ayreg's eyes popped open. It had been getting warmer, so his arthritis had stopped bothering him. Knife-blade tears apart scar tissue that had formed when he rose, and, somewhere in the back of his head, he knew the arthritis would be worse now. He turned, Rendap standing behind him with three inches of blood-stained knife. Jodiah gripped the little rascal's hair, pulling him out from behind the work counter. He limped toward the door, dragging the little gnome out as he did. Ayreg's arm flung forward, tossing the gnome a few feet onto his bottom. Ritap and Relit scurried out from behind him, exiting the silver shop.

Rendap would not be so dismissed. He drew his cutlass, waving the silly little thing about in the air as he barked after Jodiah. Fake hooked right hand waving with the cutlass. "Argh! An' that's all the bloody poetry ye'll be gettin' out of me today, cully! Come back tommorow, see, and I'll be makin' an epic story on y'er hide, by the powers!"

The gnomes cackled. Jodiah's lips twitched, smirking at the little beasts. He slammed the door to the silver shop closed, and returned to his work bench. A strip of cloth was torn from the roll of fabric used for polishing the silver at times, and he tied it about his knee. A bite from Icer is one thing, an actual, penetrative knife wound could have serious implications.

"I really hate those gnomes" he grumbled.

Lord Ayreg

Date: 2006-02-24 23:15 EST
The death knight left the forge, limping. With the fabric wrapped around his knee, it stemmed the flow of blood, and the pressure gave it time to clot. He grumbled to himself, plotting the murder of a handful of annoying little gnomes. It would be so easy, after all -- his hand could no doubt crush the skull of the little gnomes with a minimal amount of effort. They were almost like plushy toys in size and shape; the only thing they lacked in that capacity was an internal squeeking device.

Almost an hour later, he had returned though. The apothecary applied a poultice of healall root to the dagger thrust, and scolded him once again for not taking the easy life. "Someone of your age should be snuggled into a chair beside a cozy fire" the apothecary told him. He gave her a tight-lipped smile, and a few silver crowns for her doctoring. A cozy fire and a chair is not how the death knight functioned at all.

"Just might as well hang myself and be done with it" he mused aloud, walking back through the cobbled streets toward the Dragon's Breath Forge, wherein the silver shop was located. He made a brief stop, though, at the Red Dragon before finishing his trip.

As he entered the room, he noted the faces around him. The little gnomes had gone out of their way to look grizzled, and haggard, as if they truly were pirates. Most simply needed to shave, and wipe their faces clean of the dirt and grime they seemed to refuse to wipe off. Thistle the Gnome, with his ridiculously huge hat growled at him, and all of them were waving their silly little miniature cutlasses about.

"Garr, matey, we gots a message fer ye'.." Joshel the Large (the Gnome) growled at him.

"Prepare to be keehauled, ye' scurvy dog.." Tsiolos the Swabby added.

"I feel a mutiny a-brewin', sez I.." Frankel the Gnome piped up.

"Argh! Time fer some right bloody poetry, methinks.." Rendap hissed.

"Squaaaak!!" cried the poor parrot, which was apparently tied down to Zorbenastrocalipermeneotullis (otherwise known as Bob)'s shoulder. They had to tie it down, you know, because no self-respecting parrot would sit on a gnome's shoulder, after all.

The rest of the gnomes, in their ridiculous little outfits and their laughable fake eyepatches, fake hooks, and fake peg-legs, waving their miniature cutlasses and tiny daggers -- which, to Jodiah's size, made for little more than utility belt knives -- growled, barked, or muttered their assent. Apparently, they had enough of this `land blubber` as Joshel the Large (the Gnome) calls him. No senile old son of a farmer, poxy, grass-eatin' butterball was going to impunge on the gnomes' reputations as salty, crusty, dangerous pirates!

"Oh. Well, whoever shall I share this with, then?" Ayreg asked, his voice low as it normally was. From beneath his cloak came a small cask of the Red Dragon's finest rum. It was only marginally better than the ale, but it was the drink of choice around the Dragon's Breath Forge.

Outside, passerbys could hear the sound of singing from within, and there was much back-slapping and rum drinking, and even more raucous laughter.

"We're beggars and blighters and ne'er-do-well cads. Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho! Yo Ho, Yo Ho! A pirate's life fer me!"