Four human youths and one old gnome take on an evil wizard and a gang of bandit duergar beneath Rammel Mountain. The grownups, meanwhile, pay no attention.
This is an Altearth tale, set in Germania in the 18th century Ab Urbe Condite (roughly 11th century, Real Earth reckoning). I'll be posting the first few chapters here but that's all, as I intend to try to publish this one.
Chapter 1 - Jurva Waits
Jurva hid near the little path that ran from the Lake Road to the gnome’s house. Heikko and Kal crouched in bushes on the other side, making more noise than they should, not that it mattered much. The gnome wouldn’t hear them anyway, until it was too late. Somewhere further back, amid elderberry bushes, a jackdaw screeched.
Jurva didn’t like it here. He was too far away from the dig, too close to Gnome Town and a damn sight too close to Greencastle with its humans and horses. But the gnome was starting to talk, and too much was at stake for it all to be ruined by some foot-scraping tinyman. The wizard said nobody listens to gnomes and especially not to Crazy Tobe, but the wizard was human. Jurva was duergar, and duergar were a careful folk. His boys had dug and toiled long days for that wizard and his promises.
He felt the weight of his knife in his scabbard as he adjusted his position. No, he told himself, the knife won’t be needed. This would be a message in flesh, more fists than words. Don’t kill the little wrethc, just make sure he stays quiet. Scare him. Jurva snorted softly. That wouldn’t be hard; gnomes are born scared. He could have done the job alone. He brought the others, not because of the gnome but because of the humans. Gnomes were nothing; humans were dangerous.
The October sun found paths through the branches, lighting the needled ground in pools of warmth, but Jurva stayed in the cold shadows. An hour had crawled by with no sign of the gnome. He scratched at himself and wished he’d not drunk so much water this morning. Some jobs were worse than others, he reflected, and most of the bad ones were above ground.
He shifted position, got poked by a fir branch and shifted again.
He tensed as he heard the soft pad of feet approaching in quick, short steps. Good, he thought, here it comes. Now I can get this over with and get back to the dig.
This is an Altearth tale, set in Germania in the 18th century Ab Urbe Condite (roughly 11th century, Real Earth reckoning). I'll be posting the first few chapters here but that's all, as I intend to try to publish this one.
Chapter 1 - Jurva Waits
Jurva hid near the little path that ran from the Lake Road to the gnome’s house. Heikko and Kal crouched in bushes on the other side, making more noise than they should, not that it mattered much. The gnome wouldn’t hear them anyway, until it was too late. Somewhere further back, amid elderberry bushes, a jackdaw screeched.
Jurva didn’t like it here. He was too far away from the dig, too close to Gnome Town and a damn sight too close to Greencastle with its humans and horses. But the gnome was starting to talk, and too much was at stake for it all to be ruined by some foot-scraping tinyman. The wizard said nobody listens to gnomes and especially not to Crazy Tobe, but the wizard was human. Jurva was duergar, and duergar were a careful folk. His boys had dug and toiled long days for that wizard and his promises.
He felt the weight of his knife in his scabbard as he adjusted his position. No, he told himself, the knife won’t be needed. This would be a message in flesh, more fists than words. Don’t kill the little wrethc, just make sure he stays quiet. Scare him. Jurva snorted softly. That wouldn’t be hard; gnomes are born scared. He could have done the job alone. He brought the others, not because of the gnome but because of the humans. Gnomes were nothing; humans were dangerous.
The October sun found paths through the branches, lighting the needled ground in pools of warmth, but Jurva stayed in the cold shadows. An hour had crawled by with no sign of the gnome. He scratched at himself and wished he’d not drunk so much water this morning. Some jobs were worse than others, he reflected, and most of the bad ones were above ground.
He shifted position, got poked by a fir branch and shifted again.
He tensed as he heard the soft pad of feet approaching in quick, short steps. Good, he thought, here it comes. Now I can get this over with and get back to the dig.
