Session 2: Leaving Nook
(Also see: Second session: Finn's comments )
My dear diary, a long day was awaiting me!
The day started abruptly, when I was woken by a splash of water in my face! Despite lying in the litter, somehow folded between some barrels, I had been deeply asleep. Of course it was Finn who was responsible for this rude morning greeting! And despite him rattling on annoyingly about me being so stupid to snooze at a dangerous place like that and what an ignorant spoiled brat I was, I was so glad to see him, I just smiled. “Where's Jonathan?” I asked him, trying to set his mind on a different track. “Wasn't he supposed to join us?”
So we headed out to Jonathan’s place, Fin leading me through the Halfling quarter of Nook, a part of town which I had not visited before. Even in the early twilight I was amazed how this slice of the city differed from the Nook I knew. Fin led us to a shambly shack, with a well nourished vegetable garden up front (For a moment, dear diary, I thought Finn had arranged for rides, spoiled brat was too close to the bone..). “Here he lives,” whispered Fin, “and from the sounds I hear, he’s not awake yet.”
Standing in front of the house, we consulted in a whispering tone, finally deciding on knocking on the shutter where we presumed Jonathan would be lying inside. At first, there was no response, but after a third or fourth attempt, we could hear stumbling inside, the curious rhythm of someone walking with a stick. The shutter was opened for a bit, and the face of an old halfling appeared, asking us what was our business. This turned out to be Jonathan’s father, who was not very delighted with us visiting his son at this time of day. Our efforts to convince him failed miserably, both at the window and when he opened up the door to address us. Neither my skills in etiquette (well practiced the past period in my days spent grounded at home) nor in seduction (Please don’t go there, dear diary) were sufficient to persuade the aged farmer. As my father would have said: “They speak of stubborn dwarfs and blunt ogres, but it’s easier to reason with a dragon than with a halfling!”
Finn argued that knocking on the door another time was not wise, rolling his eyes when I suggested the staff entrance. Don't think I managed to convince him that I just had meant going around the house to check for other options, but still, that's what we decided to do. The backside of the building offered no options to enter it or contact Jonathan. However a strange even older halfling approached us, asking what we were doing in this part of town at this time of day. Once more I attempted to impress using the best of Gnomish etiquette I had acquired (Resulting in Finn stepping away grinnicking. Well I would show him!) And with result! After informing him that we were looking for a priest he started elaborating that it was indeed a perfect time for gathering moonstones, that he had done so himself many times many years ago. As I listened politely to this mixture of galimatias and directions, he offered me his map of the road to moonstone fields and to Magki (Something I probably could prove my worth with to my companions), which I accepted kindly. His next offer, to show off his moonstones, uttered with a lewd smile, I refused disgustedly. As my mother would have said: “They speak of salacious dwarfs and lewd humans, but it’s the halflings that a gnome should worry about!”
At the corner of the road I found Finn sitting nibbling a piece of cheese, a mocking grin on his face: “So I see you have acquainted yourself with Jonathan's grandfather. How did that work out for you?” “Well, you say you're a thief, why don’t you crack open that shutter?” I countered, “How hard could that possibly be?” Finn was obviously not very enthusiastic about this task, reluctantly standing up and moving again to the house. From his jacket he produced a shady looking tool and placed it between shutter and wall. For one moment I thought that this could work out, when a loud squeaking noise indicated that he had failed in opening the panel and succeeded in waking up everyone inside. Not only the cadenced steps of the father, but the voices and steps of several children sounded through the night. With a bang the door opened, and a group of halfling children ran out towards me. “Are we gonna play? Will you play with us and the pigs?”. The kids started pulling at my tunic, and Finn being Finn decided that discretion is the better part of valour, leaving me to deal with this alone. More and more kids ran out of the house, and I needed a ruse fast! Somehow I managed to find the idea and the rest to kneel down and cast cantrip, conjuring a glowing moving pig kept in the palms of my hand. The children looked in awe and gathered around me. “Finn, get in there and get Jonathan out!” I screamed to noone, but out of nowhere the halfling rogue appeared and entered the house, shaking his head.
Invisible to me, inside Jonathan and his father were having a terrible argument over Jonathan leaving. Not that the old man had trouble with his eldest son taking off, but he had serious objections with Jonathan taking his backpack with him. Their quarrel was audible outside and possibly for the whole of Nook, and things did not improve when Finn entered the fray. My spell however was dowsing and with my last seconds of control I sent the projected pigs running into the house, pursued by the youngsters. After saying thanks to Azuth (this must count as the first effectual spell I ever conjured!) and a few moments to regain some energy, I followed them in. Inside I found the place not only filled by Finn, Jonathan, his father and the kids, but a small gathering of halflings! There had been more people sleeping together in one room, than there would be in our staff quarters during a Great Gathering of Gnomes!
At the table in the far corner, Jonathan nor Finn did manage to convince the father to allow for taking the backpack. Neither did Finn succeed in snitching the backpack away. I walked over, trying not to step on bunks, pottery or halfling children. However my gnomish etiquette nor charm had any effect on the father (These Wickham fellows were of a different breed of halfling than these Slynts!), leaving the three of us looking at each other in despair. Then Jonathan slammed his fist on the table, and walked away from us and his father. Though his steps were firm and calm, his expression was not, eyes burning like a red dragon! Never seen him like that before, and that was probably also the case for his family members, as all of them stepped aside as he paraded out the cottage.
Finn and I followed him outside. As Jonathan calmed down a bit, we discussed if the backpack was essential for our trip. “All my food is in the pack, the really important stuff I carry in my robe. “ said the still trembling Jonathan, “But there’s one more essential thing I ‘ve got to do.” With that he walked over to his mother standing by the well. The resemblance with my own departures was all too evident, and I started shedding a little tear. Walking back to us past the vegetable garden, Jonathan said his blessing, then he abruptly kneeled down and started pulling on some greens, hissing “We need food before we can run!” When I tried to follow his example, I managed to pull out a courgette from the ground. Only to be rewarded by another rebuke of Finns: “When the two of you are done with harvesting crops, we can prepare a nice meal for the goons that are coming over!” “So stop playing with these courgettes now!!” Indeed a carriage could be seen in the distance and cries could be heard, clearly stating my name.My father had sent out a search party! “We need to go, and we need to go now!” I hissed at both the halflings.
The snoring of ponies and “clomp clomp’ of horseshoes was nearing and I tried to make it clear we had to move! At that moment Finn started unbuttoning his jacket (What is it with these halfling men, dear diary?). He took it off and draped it over my shoulders:“Wear this, and this too!”, placing his hat on my head, “from a distance you now look like a halfling!” (Once more he did well, valid point, diary!). The two halflings then discussed a route to take us out of Nook. Though Finn was pointing in a different direction, I felt the back alley Jonathan suggested was the safer choice. And rightly so, as we managed to leave the city without encountering the search party or other unpleasantness.
At a certain, hopefully safe, distance from the last city dwellings, ironically halfling burrows. Nothing like the shed of Jonathan’s family, these were the residences of the well to do halflings, some of them customers of fathers practice. We paused for a while after passing these last settlements. Acknowledging appreciation and gratitude (Showing off my gnome etiquette once more!) I gave back the jacket and hat to Finn. We were now standing at a fork in the road, and had to decide which branch to take. We matched the map I had received of the grandfather (Indeed making an impression on the two companions, dear diary!) with the knowledge and sense of direction of the two halflings. We decided to choose the northern more trodden path.
Contemplating our own thoughts (Mine and those of Jonathan probably aligned, thinking about the parting with our families, Finn’s thoughts a mystery to me, probably for the best), we walked on silently for quite some time. The sun rose above the hills as we walked the road, occasionally meeting forthcoming travelers and carts. Then all deep deliberations were interrupted by a loud, deep rumble from Jonathan’s belly. “I need to have a meal and have it right now! By now we've skipped at least four courses of a normal halfling day, not including additional tidbits”, the owner of the belly declared, sitting down and refusing to walk on. Appropriately I had packed some rations before leaving my parents house, about ten lunch packages of the Trans Gnomish Pony express (As my father would suffer travel sickness he never ate them en route, but having paid for them always brought them home.). So I offered both my travel companions a green white package, with the company's parrot logo on top. Finn refused, preferring his own stack of cheese, Jonathan seized it from my hand, unwrapping it swiftly, unpacking the contents even faster, and had eaten the muffins before I had time to untie my own bow tied package! Smelling and seeing the muffins, Finn was now obviously regretting his choice. (Never decline the gifts of this spoiled brat, halfling!)
After satisfying, well at least partly and temporarily, Jonathan's yearnings, Finn pressed us on to continue walking to, in his words, ‘gain a snug gap from that rubbish pile called Nook’. Though my feet were by now killing me and I had to listen to Jonathan prayers, pleading with his god for returning to the natural daily dining schedule of halflings, we managed to march on for some time, reaching an open field bordered by trees. There Jonathan lied down, letting out that this was the end of the road for today (And, dear diary, I was very pleased with myself, not being the first one to give in! I sat down next to Jonathan, while Finn lamented about us being the saddest and slowest company he ever traveled with, “like watching a praying sloth racing a turtle on high heels l!” Ridiculing my high heeled boots, like these were not designed by the “The Acorn Atelier" for the wayfaring modern gnome lady, dear diary!!). As I sat down on a tree stump, somehow managing to pull out my feet from my boots without giving Finn a hint of the pain involved. “Well, what are we having for dinner then? Would you be so kind as to show off the cooking skills you were bragging about and prepare me some courgette cookies, please, Finn? Would be so nice to eat something I plucked myself! It appeared that I had said something wrong again, but both Finn and Jonatan started working. Pans appeared out of Finn’s backpack, Jonathan compiled some dry branches and started making a fire, as I sat waiting for my diner. And miraculously, minutes later a dinner was served: a strange looking goo that Finn called stew and a charred slice, presented by our cook as ‘the cookie’. As a well cultivated gnome I took a bite, only to experience the worst tasting of my life! Dear diary, I was saved by my mothers good heart, she had donated me a bag with ‘déjeuner sur l'herbe essentials’ when we met for the last time at the staff door. Inside was a wooden canister containing a small flask of “Moonberry Mead”, a wine just made to wash away bad taste. (Diary, diary, both halflings were now watching me in marvel, and I picked up sentences like ‘princess of Nook’ from their careless whispers.). Though the stew was not something our cook at home would have approved of, it tasted quite well and I complimented both cook and assistant! (Hopefully regaining some affinity with my halfing friends, diary?)
Voting led to the majority decision to not travel further that day (Two to one, I think you can come up with the names, dear diary). We decided to set up tents just inside the wood, a bit out of sight. Out of my backpack I pulled out the good old ‘Tinker's Trail Gear’ tent, not seen since my scouting days had ended, when I reached an age that entailed that sleeping outside was no longer considered proper for a lady gnome. Setting it up smoothly, then securing the tent with its dragon headed pens in a twinkle, I finally impressed the halfling boys, my sweet diary! While sitting in front of the little hut , I watched Finn setting up his tent, an old stained one in drab colors, not like my ‘moonlit black’ example, decorated with Elven silver reflection patterning.
Poor Jonathan though had to cope with moss and twigs to produce himself a sleeping place, as his tent was left at home in the backpack! As he was dribbling around, I heard him announce that his God Chislev had messaged him that rain would be coming soon. “So nice of a god of nature to warn his priests for cloudbursts and storms!”, Finn replied. “Unfortunately, my tent can barely contain one halfling, let alone two.” I saw where this was going, diary, and decided to call the bluff: “You can sleep in my tent Jonathan, we will be taking turns standing guard anyway, so during my watch my tent is available.” Resulting in Jonathan’s gratitude and Finn’s disbelief. (Sharing a tent with a halfling man, spending the night with two of them in the wilderness, if any gnomes would know, I will spend the rest of my days in a Townswomen's Guild!)
So that’s where this first day ends, my dear diary. Tomorrow we’ll continue our journey!
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