Session #3 as told by Inez

Session #3 as told by Inez

Read: Session #3 as told by Finn here

Well dear diary,

We found some moonstones, I have a moonstone, but despite all that, our errand has not been successful, far from it! Let me tell you!

As told before we had made camp at the last field and the halflings had fabricated a campfire from findings at the forest edge. The long awaited moon rose on the horizon, blood red, as if Selûne was fleeing, leaving this night to Shar. That must explain the smiling expression of the Idol that I could see hanging inside my tent. Quick as possible I closed the tent door, as a feeling of edginess crept upon me. Next I  made sure the cubs were alright, finding them like myself snappy, in their case both figuratively and literally, gnawing at my fingers! Was it me, was it the influence of the crimson moon, but the whole atmosphere had turned into an ominous chill. Before walking over to the halflings, I tried to lift my mood: We were going to hunt for moonstone! I would get myself some real magical ingredients to work with!

My companions, however, seemed not that keen on a search for stones of any type. Seated next to the campfire, Finn made remarks in the line of ‘having seen enough adventure for a day’ and ‘these two will cost me my head’... Meanwhile he was deboning the mother Owl Bear, throwing some pieces every now and then to her offspring, who had no problem swallowing these. I could see that this was upsetting Jonathan, so I took the priest with me to the center of the field, where a huge dark stone was standing on its own. The black monolith stood against the orange sky, void of any markings that could reveal its purpose. Against better judgment I attempted to cast the one spell that, well at least at home, I had more or less mastered, trying to find any clues on the stone. Using the little shard of crystal I scanned the surface, finding a pattern of runes that made no sense to me at all. With Jonathan interfering, asking what I was doing, I gave up in frustration, following him on the path upwards to the moonstone fields.

As we walked on, it seemed like in the distance, marching songs were sung or played from the other side of the hummock. It asked the halflings if they too heard this strange chanting. Both confirmed, and Finn warned us to be careful, like we were toddlers making our first steps! Both Jonathan, who was by now almost on top of the ridge and I, both ignored our  perpetually displeased associate. Jonathan now called out, reporting that he saw a field filled with Goodberry Bites, some glowing up in the dark. Those halflings relate anything to food or candy, dear diary!

As I dashed up to look for myself, I was almost frightened to death as from the bushes a figure jumped me, crashing right in front of my feet. As I looked down, I saw that it was Finn, who apparently had wanted to keep an eye on us (or just me, dear diary?) in secret. The great rogue he is, he failed miserably and now lay in front of me, staring under my skirt. As he looked even more embarrassed than me, I left it with a remark: “Dear halfling, I thought you had some more style! Though, I suppose a little peek never hurt anyone... except maybe your pride?" I even helped him up, offering my hand, which I regretted immediately as his hands were still bloodied by the boning of the cadaver. Cussing under my breath I cleaned my hands with the help of some grass.

Finn and I were now following Jonathan into the third field, where some of the stones (no candy in sight!) were glowing softly in a blue hue. Once more ignoring Finn, who urged us to stay on the path, I walked towards the nearest gleaming gem. As I tried to pick it up, I found it stuck to the ground, no matter how hard I tried. Frustratingly I had to ask close-at-hand Finn to help me, which he hesitantly did, after I promised him that with one stone I would be content and would follow him back to the camp. Of course, with just a few strokes of his knife he cut it loose, and handed it to me with both hands: “Here it is, be careful princess, don’t know why you needed me, it came off like the cork of a bottle of ‘Second Breakfast Brew’! However, it’s quite heavy, so handle it carefully!”. As I took it up, I had no problem lifting it with one hand, holding it in my palm to examine it. Finn and I stared at each other irked, probing if the other was serious or was trying to make one look like a fool. This contest was broken up by Jonathans joking at the expense of Fynn that a gnomish girl like me was stronger than the halfling rogue! 

Finn's irritation grew even more as his guidance and alerts were further ignored by Jonathan, who was walking further towards the next fields, and me, moving greedily towards the next glowing stone. Gesturing and biting his necklace, walking back and forth, Finn was having a bad day. I, on the other hand, was getting in a much better mood, as magical stones were lying around me for the picking! Sweet diary, I know I had promised, but those stones, they were beautiful and radiating magic, I just had to have them! The second moonstone was pluckable without the help of Finn or anyone, just a small one, but still a beauty! Then I went for the third, the biggest one, with my left hand; it turned out to be an awkward shaped one, appearing to be hollow, but glowing all the same. Showing them to Finn, he lost his last interest as he could not determine the value of these strange gemstones and decided to retreat to our camp. ‘A halfling on an empty stomach is harder to appease than a gnome woman.’ my father used to say, often followed by ‘with the exception of a certain young gnomish lady’ (Haha, father).

With Finn away, Jonathan came over, drawing my attention to our surroundings, as the strange music had stopped, and the other moonstones had stopped glowing. The priest asked me then if he could look at one of the stones, extending his hand. Dear diary, I’m ashamed to admit, but it took me a force of will to hand over the smallest stone to Jonathan. Jonathan, the most trustworthy soul I’ve ever met! Still, the stones felt that precious to me! After looking at it, he just smiled and gave it back, without saying a word (making me feeling even more guilty). Staring at the stones in my hands, I followed him back to the camp.

Arriving at our tents, we found Finn staring at the monolith. The black stone had started to vibrate lightly and the runes that I had managed to read with my spell, were now lighting up like a tinker's spark on a new gear. Both the halflings turned on me when I told them that I had seen those runes earlier, and maybe (Just maybe, diary) they had a point in that I should have shared that knowledge, but I was not having it. Luckily (?), the black statue started to drone like a dwarven water pump, preventing us from having a serious row. A scraping sound signalled the slow shifting of the stone away from us, exposing an opening where it once stood. It then ended its move with dry cracking noises, like skeleton hands were obstructing further .

All of the night Finn had not been his jovial self, biting his medaillon, and now he seemed at the verge of panic. Jonathan on the other hand looked overjoyed, using his priestly magic to light up a dart (The natural, easy looking way of him performing magic making me jealous again), revealing a staircase leading down into the hole. He gestured to me to follow him down, but to do so, I had to clear my hands of moonstones. The smallest one was easily secured, placing it within my cleavage, the second one I handed once more to Jonathan, who stored it in his backpack. The third and biggest one I just placed on the ground, hopefully I would be able to pick it up later. Satisfied with myself that I was able to part with the gems, I nodded to Jonathan. “Adventure!” he screamed, amazing me and shocking Finn even further, then he descended the stairs.

All in all we had to negotiate thirty to forty stair steps, human sized, before we reached the floor of a room. A stone table could be seen by the light of the dart, with three ceramic bowls placed on it (Once more a test devised by Aalborr?) was the only furniture. Despite being underground, the room did not smell moist or dampen. Rather it smelled and felt unnatural, like a perfume bottled by a witch. As Finn entered the room, stepping from the last stair, the staircase spun up and higher up, we could hear the monolith returning to its original position, sealing us in. Before I had the time to panic or despair, Jonathan was once more yelling, claiming he had found the solution to the puzzle. He placed the moonstone I had given him into the mid sized bowl, gave me a friendly punch, and suggested ‘Inez, you have to place the small one in the tiny bowl.’ Reluctantly I moved the gem from my dress, then replied: “But the third stone, I left it in the field upstairs”. Upon which Finn sighed, revealing the third stone, like he was the greatest hero instead of a savvy larcener, then placing it haughtily in the biggest bowl. With both men now staring at me, as if it was me who was causing problems, I unwillingly placed the last stone into the indicated bowl.

As the room now filled with light, like the walls were radiating it by themselves, the staircase started spinning and retracted upwards. Above us we could here the monolith move back, locking us in! A stream of curses was produced by Finn, luckily he got no magical or priestly powers, otherwise this gnome would have been transformed to an Owl Bear chick, dear diary. Thanks to Jonathan taking the brunt of the reproaches and reassuring Finn that it would turn out alright, he came back to his senses. 

The artificial light revealed a fully round interior. Besides the table there was a door on one side and a lever attached to some mechanism on the opposing side. As I was standing closest, I walked over to the door, but failed to open it. Even worse, I broke off the handle, driving Finn to once more burning his fingers on his boiling amulet. Jonathan joked about the lack of strength of his halfling companion compared to his gnomish girly one. Which both Finn and I did not take as a compliment.

Continuing in his all too cheerful mode, Jonathan walked over to the lever. Finn blocked him before he could manipulate it. The rogue insisted on checking for traps before the lever was pulled. And suddenly nothing happened. Both men were still staring at the lever as I wandered over, and though it was evidently not a gnomish construct, I reckoned pulling it back could possibly do the trick. And sure it did, the full room started spinning like the Cogwheel Carousel at the Nook carnival. When it stopped all three of us were certain of one thing: we had no clue how far we had diverted...

It was all too much for Finn, who while cursing gods, the city of Nook, his choice of friends, and the ignorance of a certain gnomish lady (No points for him there, dear diary) rushed over to the door and started to work on the lock. Incredibly, within the nick of time a ‘click’ could be heard and the door opened. Nevertheless it just revealed a pitch-dark passage. Jonathan handed him the dart, but as the magic was waning, it did not uncover much as Finn threw it into the walkway. As I revealed the torches I brought with me, Finn finally acknowledged that I brought some value to this party (Well, well). Using one to illuminate the corridor, we found that it led to another stairway, going up. We decided to try our luck with that one.

But I could not leave without at least one moonstone. Strangely, Jonathan failed to pick up the smallest one, where I could without difficulty, placing it back where it belonged, dear diary. Curiously, as the stone left the bowl, the original staircase descended as called for. 

One halfling, Finn, wanted to leave immediately, using the original one, while the other, Jonathan, was insisting on exploring the second stairs. The promise of treasure managed to convince Finn, but not with much enthusiasm. “You lead,” he insisted, pointing Jonathan towards the door. The halfling priest looked excited and enthusiastically got out in front. Finn followed him, obviously reluctantly, but still gestured to me to form the rearguard. The moment Joanathan crossed the doorstep, the sound of drizzling bounces could be heard. “Close the door, close the door now!” Finn was yelling, as a gelatinous cube attacked Jonathan. From somewhere an idea sprung up in my mind, and I raced for the lever, giving it the hardest pull I could muster. The room started spinning again, forcibly slamming the door shut and crushing the cube before it could enter the room. 

For a moment I felt heroic, as I had saved the day with my action. Then I saw Jonathan, who had been splattered with the acid remains of the cube! He laid on the floor, deader than a broken cogwheel. My stomach turned at the sight! Kneeling near him, I started crying, feeling responsible for his death. If only I had not pulled that lever, or even better, had aligned with Finn and had returned to our camp! Even though I had a moonstone already, why did I want to go exploring this hallway? Little lady Wishwinder, my mother would have said! And this was a real dungeon, not just a racing track set out underneath the city’s tavern! And now this poor halfing was lying there, like a broken Cogsorrow, just because I had lured him to join me...”

Then I was pushed out of it by Finn, shaking me forcefully: “Come on, we need to help him! Let me clean his wounds, while you search for bandages”. Together we started working, Finn using water to remove cuby acid, I using a dagger to cut bandages out of Jonathan’s cloak. (I know, I know, sweet diary, could have cut those of my dress, but this is a ‘The Upper Gear’ dress. And that cloak would not miss a piece, where this dress would have ruined. Case closed.) 

We decided on trying to get him and us out, using the stairs. But even a not too stout halfling as Jonathan is quite a load. Desperately I decided to cast a spell to help us, and once more I amazed myself, as I not only succeeded in evoking a servant, but also was able to sustain the spell for the whole ascend! From the bottom of the stairs, with each step, I was mumbling prayers to Azuth: “Please help me help my friend, ..”, concentrating on my task to control the magic energy and the floating body of Jonathan, while climbing up. Eventually we reached the top, and with my last breath and magical strength I settled Jonathan on the stone floor. The unconscious halfling was still breathing and I muttered a prayer of thanks. All I could think of was how I was liable for his condition, regretting all the stupid things I had done the last couple of days. Sweet diary, I almost prayed to Helm to take me back to my parents in Nook!

Till then I had been completely oblivious of my surroundings, but Finn poking and shouting at me made me aware that, well, that we were not where we were supposed to be! A big yellow moon shone its light at the ruins of an unfamiliar building.You’re right, dear diary, never before I left my hometown, so practically any building would look unfamiliar to me. What I meant was that we had never seen this ruin before!  Looking around past the crumbled walls there was a field, bordered by trees. No sign of the monolith or our camp! Finn was walking round us like a sentry, fiddling with his medaillon, then his knives, claiming these were boiling hot, then cussing and cursing, all of a sudden stating loudly: “Let’s find cover!”. Kneeling down next to the priest and me, he place a piece of his terrible reeking cheese under Jonathan's nose. Evidently inventing cheese magic, as the knocked out halfling bestirred and even ate the piece of cheese! Overcome with joy I kissed Jonathan on the forehead as he opened his eyes. Oh, dear diary, I could have kissed both men, and more, but Finn’s stern look made me stop (or was he just jealous)!

Apologetic I stood up and tried to make sense of our situation. A great idea came to my mind: I could call on the Owl Bear cubs! The past day I had trained them more or less successfully to gather at my whistle. Hence, I blew on my fingers, producing a harsh shrill sound as loud as I could. All too successful, as it was answered, but not by the cubs. A deep growling reaction came from out of the woods, followed by the sound of wings sweeping. “Back inside. Now!” Finn pushed us back towards the stairway down. “Can you walk?” I asked Jonathan, “Will manage, I think” came his reply. I let him and Finn pass, Finn taking the lead downwards, once more carrying the torch. Following them, I closed the hatch, hopefully preventing any the incoming Owl Bear of following us.

And that is how we ended up back in the round room, dear diary. Hopefully we’ll find us a way back to our camp and the cubs. For now, we’re stuck...

Prequel: "The Harrows", a ghost story by Finn Slynt

 Old Finn’s Story to Roslynn: “The Harrows”

The prison was quiet except for the occasional dripping of water and the shuffling of guards outside. Finn sat on the cold stone floor, arms folded, back against the bars. The dim torchlight flickered, casting restless shadows over his face. He sighed, rubbing a calloused thumb over his knuckles before glancing at Roslynn.

“You ever hear about the Harrows?” he asked, voice low, as if someone else might be listening. “They say they whisper to you from the dark, call your name just quiet enough that you think it’s in your own head.” He smirked, but there was something wary in his expression, like a man who still checked under his bed after all these years.

He pulled a small pendant from under his collar, the worn metal glinting in the low light. He turned it over between his fingers, then tucked it away.

“Back when I was just a runt in the Shambles, my father Hessan disappeared.” He let that hang in the air for a moment, watching Roslynn’s reaction. “No one knew what happened to him. Some said he ran off with a fortune in stolen gold, left us behind like smoke in the wind. Others figured he crossed the wrong folk and got himself dumped in the harbor with his pockets full of rocks.”

Finn tapped his fingers against the floor. “But the neighbors, the old ones - they swore it was the Harrows. Said the tunnels beneath Nook were cursed, that something down there didn’t like people poking around. They whispered about smugglers and beggars who’d wandered too deep and never come back. Some of them kept iron under their pillows, others left salt by their doors.” 

“I was stubborn back then. Everyone was talkin’ about my father, and none of them knew. So, I decided I’d go down there myself. Find out what happened.” 

Old Finn leaned his head back against the prison bars, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. "See, when you grow up in the Shambles, you learn quick - there's what's true, and then there's what's useful to believe. And when you're ten years old, scared outta your wits but too stubborn to admit it, you take every bit of useful you can get."

He reached into his shirt again, fingers brushing the iron amulet at his chest. "If the old folk swore by cold iron and salt to keep the Harrows at bay, you need to pay attention. Now, I didn't know what I'd find down there in the tunnels, but I knew I wasn't about to face it empty-handed."

He gave Roslynn a pointed look. "So I took my father's iron, because iron holds the line. And I nicked a packet of salt from my ma's kitchen, because if the Harrows came whispering, I wanted something to throw in their damned faces."

Found my way into the smuggler tunnels near the riverside. Now, I’d played around those caves before, but we were never allowed to go in too deep. It got cold the further in I went, and the air started to feel thick, like I was breathing in something that didn’t want me there.”

He glanced at Roslynn, raising an eyebrow. “Then I heard them.”

A long pause.

“They don’t call to you like a man would. It’s more like a breath at the back of your neck, like someone whispering just out of earshot. Soft, scraping sounds on stone. I should’ve turned back, but I was my father’s son, wasn’t I?”

His smirk returned, but it was a ghost of itself.

“Then the damn screamer mushrooms started howling. Near jumped out of my skin.” He chuckled. “I bolted straight into a cavern, nearly dropped my torch. And that’s when I saw it.”

Finn tapped his temple. “Now, I know what I saw. Folk can say what they want, but it wasn’t a man. It was something else. Bigger than me by a mile, hunched, it appeared to be stitched together like someone had built it out of spare parts. Patches of fur, scaled skin, hands too long for its body, too many teeth in its mouth. And the smell - like wet stone and old blood.”

He exhaled, shaking his head. “It wasn’t some restless spirit, but I’ll tell you, Ros, that didn’t make me feel any better about it.”

She didn’t interrupt. She was listening now, really listening. Her beady eyes watching Finn with intent.

Finn grinned. “So, there I was, a skinny little rat with nothing but a torch and an iron trinket against a monster in the dark. But I knew one thing - monsters are greedy.” He tilted his head. “I pulled out my Pa’s amulet and made sure it caught the light of the torch. The thing took one look at me, then at my neck.” He mimed a grasping motion. “It wanted my amulet. I knew if it got close enough, I’d never be fast enough to keep it.”

“So, I told it; I have more." And I pulled out my ma’s packet of salt. "Let me show you the good stuff." 

And as I pulled open the packet, as the thing leaned in, I threw the salt into its eyes and made a break for it.

Finn ran, heart hammering against his ribs. The tunnels twisted around him, unfamiliar in the flickering torchlight. Behind him, the mongrelman followed, its patchwork limbs scuttling over the rock with unnatural speed.

He clutched his father’s iron amulet as he ducked into a narrow passage. He had to think.

Then an idea sparked. As he sprinted forward, Finn ripped a copper button from his coat, rolling it between his fingers. If he did it just right. The passage suddenly widened into a low cavern, and Finn saw his chance. He faked a stumble, twisting his body as if he had just yanked the amulet from his neck and thrown it. The button flew through the air, spinning, gleaming - The mongrelman lunged.

Its clawed fingers snatched the button midair, triumph flashing in its sunken eyes. 

And then - a sickly pop.

The air surrounding the creature filled with a thick, choking cloud, and then - nothing. Silence. Like the whole world just stopped breathing.” He let that sit for a moment. “There he was - frozen, mid-step. Eyes wide, body locked up tight, like someone had pulled the strings from a puppet. A statue in a field of mushrooms”

Finn crouched, watching in stunned silence. He hadn’t done that. He hadn’t even touched it. Something shifted in the cavern beyond. A flicker of movement. Shuffling shadows. A presence just beyond the torchlight. 

Finn was certain he heard the Harrows start to whispers again.

He didn’t wait to see what it was. He ran back the way he had come. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw shadows surround the paralyzed creature.

Old Finn went quiet, lost in thought - his eyes focused on something far, far away. Then he snapped back, focused his eyes on Roslynn intently, tapped the side of his head.

“But I tell you, Ros - I still heard breathing. Even when I was back in the Shambles, even when I was safe in my bed. I heard breathing in the dark.” He glanced at her sideways, waiting. Then he grinned, nudging her with his finger. “Now, don’t go losing sleep over it, girl. The Harrows take their due, one way or another.”

He leaned his head back against the bars, closing his eyes.

“And that, Roslynn, is why you always carry iron.”

Prequel: “Freeday School Shenanigans: The Day Jonathan’s Goose Saved the Day (Inez's version)

Prequel:  “Freeday School Shenanigans: The Day Jonathan’s Goose Saved the Day (Inez's version)

Read Finn's version here...

Dear diary,

As it was Freeday I had to get out of bed early! While the rest of Nook was still sleeping, I took a bath in preparation of being made up by the maids. Then as the warpaint had been applied, I dressed myself in a (very!) decent dress and presented myself to my mother, who had to approve of my looks before I was allowed to leave for the so-called ‘The Free Library of Oghma’. 

If only it would have been a true library! Instead it was a weekly seminary in a small building next to the temple of Oghma. Some well-off families of all the three prevailing races (humans, dwarfs, gnomes) of Nook financed it and sent in their children. Which meant that I, as a to-be-bride of one of these gnome children, was sent there as well by my parents. Of course, I had to be properly dressed for the occasion, modest but stylish, as this was supposed to please both purse bearers, clerics, teachers and a god. So all buttons tight up and toned down makeup, not the glitter and metallic accents that made me shine on banquets. And certainly no showing of anything indecent!

Such hypocrites, as during working days they have me serve drinks to my father’s customers wearing dresses with ‘proper’ view of my chest. Especially when old Goldwhisk and his retinue was in, my father’s propositions needed visual support. Just before opening the door to the office for me, mother would eye me up and down as I was holding the tray with drinks, then undo the top buttons of my dress: “Without light, even the most beautiful diamond is just another stone!” Abusing the situation and this old Gnomish saying!  Oh diary, I learnt to maneuver through those ogling old men, keeping out of reach of hands. (After so many rounds of drinks my mother would send in Hazel or Zibella instead, and me to my room). 

Almost flattering and certainly amazing, was that me dishing out was appreciated not only by gnome clientele, but by dwarven (not that surprising), humans (a huge surprise, pun intended) and halflings (Too many surprises there!). 

Let’s return to today and the ‘Free Library’, dear diary. I always make sure to be early, to dodge bullies on the way in and to find a seat next to one more good-natured student, preferably of the same gender as me. As the offspring of the well-off had reserved places on the front ranks, and the rank of my family only granted that I was allowed in but not to pick a place until all of them were seated, that could not be guaranteed. Today I was in luck, as the place next to Thorga Deephelm was empty. She is a dwarven lady, from a prominent family, and we had come to an agreement: In exchange for me doing her assignments in class, she would escort me home safely. Very much to my advantage, as I learnt to write Dwarven runes well enough to fool our teachers into thinking that it was her work!

However, it turned out that I had cheered too early. At the end of the day’s classes, Thorga informed me that she would not be able to walk me home, as her family would pick her up directly after to visit another dwarven household. She was in the same circumstances as me, her short red blond beard was to be shown off in search for a proper suitor. Dear diary, I was not sure who I pitied most. Poor Thorga or myself, as I had both annoyed teachers and classmates with my wit, being confident that a dwarven bodyguard would be at my disposal. Things were looking grim...

As the lessons ended, we were sent out to the schoolyard, where I tried to make a run for it, but it was to no avail. Thrainna Stonebrow, the dwarven opposite of Thorga, stood before me, blocking the way to the gates! And when there’s one, there are three: Her friends Pipka and Trixie were standing beside her. Our local chimera had found me! An odd chimera, as each of its heads was half a feet higher: a halfling one, a gnome one and a dwarven one.

As always, Pipka Quickwit took the lead. A vagrant halfling from the Slynt clan, she ruled the schoolyard like a queen bee. “Hey, why are you leaving so soon, book girl? Do you need to bring your father his booze?” I fumed, as her taunt had too much truth in it. And there was not much I could do about it, even in an honest fight I would have been bested. “I think he can wait a bit, why don't you hang around a bit with your friends.” “Well Pipka, as long as he does not drink at your mother’s place there’s not much harm in it!” I heard myself say, overstepping, and enraging the girl. ‘Spicing up a fizzing potion.’ my mother would have said, my dear diary, a small reminder of her clan roots.  “Oh, please, you ink-blooded weasel!” Pipka erupted, spitting at me both verbally and literally. “You could prance around in silks and perfume all you want, and you’d still look like a painted-up mushroom cap with legs. Do you really think anyone’s looking at you like that? Even the drunkest dwarf in the tavern would take one glance and choose his own hand instead. Face it—you’re not charming, you’re not alluring, you’re just there, like a wobbling little toad that won’t stop croaking.”  With that the third one, Trixie Rattlecog, a proud member of the Fizzlebang Clan (As such a thing is possible), joined in: “Yes you succubus! You think you can steal Peredrin from me!”. 

Dear diary, I was as confused as you are! Peredrin? Peredrin Varnabus Evergleam? For two weekends in a row I had spent my Freeday afternoon with this high-class gnome youngling. The two of us sitting separately at our own table, but always within sight of the families. Bored me to death, as he kept on rambling about his collection of clockworks and watches - not having a clue about their inner workings or magical components, what could have been interesting, no no, just about their value and their ornamentation of rare metals and gemstones. After some unsuccessful attempts to change the subject, I gave up and faked some mild interest, keeping up appearances. In his defense (or did this make him even worse?): He did not once try to peek inside my low-cut garment. Exactly what my parents were looking for: A young, well-educated gnome whose family see me as a ‘stabilizing influence’ and an asset to their intellectual lineage. ‘Stabilising influence’, dear diary, if only they knew of my nightly studies in wizardry!

“Peredrin can talk of nothing else about how nice you are! And how good this or that watch would look on you! And I see what you’re doing—batting those little beady eyes, fussing over your ridiculous curls, like some desperate tavern wench who thinks she can flirt her way out of being forgettable. Hate to break it to you, but no matter how much you prance and preen, you’ll always just be a squat little sideshow act.” Trixie was still rattling, this time she was really, really upset with me!

“And the only thing you stick your head in are books!” Then she  reached out and got hold of my schoolbook!  The moment I stepped forward to seize it back, Thrainna pushed me back, and despite I succeeded in keeping upright, hitting the wall was still painful. If only Thorga was here! But, dear diary, I had to face this threat alone. Not much hope for support, as we were in a quiet corner of the yard and mostly surrounded by great folk, who would look at us and consider it child's play! Look at those little gnomes playing together. Well look how nice that one makes confetti out of that schoolbook...

Miraculously help was under way in the most unexpected form! Jonathan, a halfling who I knew only because he delivered vegetables to our cooks every now and then, stepped in. He just walked up to them and proclaimed: “Maybe, um… maybe you should leave her alone?” I mean, pickin’ on people isn’t very nice. Chislev teaches that, uh, we should be kind to all livin’ things.” mThe three vixens were completely baffled at first, until they realized that this guy was no match for them. Trixie dropped my book and turned to face the newcomer and the other two girls followed her example, encircling the priest. “Aww, look, it’s the little farmer boy come to rescue the gnome!” Pipka sneered: “You gonna read us a bedtime story, too?” added Trixie snickering. Even Thrainna  managed to add a little insult: “Or are you just gonna trip over your own feet again?” Not very creative, as Jonathan was known for his peculiar way of walking. Meanwhile I had picked up the book and was considering my next move. Running would be wise, however I felt I could not leave my aegis to face this group alone. 

Turned out he was not alone! A strange deep ‘honk’ sounded followed by the sound of flapping wings. The giant goose that often was seen following the halfling around town, had taken off and was now diving in on us! Fortunately I was not her target, but Pipka was. At the last possible moment the bird changed course into a steep climb, missing us with its body, but hitting Pipka straight in the face with goose droppings. Oh sweet diary, such delicate droppings it were! It was like the great Roc had released itself on the spot!

Pipka's upper body and face were covered with manure! Friendly Thrainna started to wipe it away, only to be rewarded by the embarrassed and angry halfling with a handful in her face. The chimera fell apart as Trixie beat a hasty retreat, the other two heads of the monster following in her path. As I watched them leave and heard Jonathan stammering excuses to the girls, commands to the goose and prayers to goddess Chislev, I started laughing. First a modest giggle, then breaking up, bursting into an unbridled laughter.

Catching my breath I looked up to find the schoolyard mostly deserted. All of the small folk had gone,ran off to spread the incredible story of the goose that beat the chimera. Some humans and dwarves had remained not paying attention anymore to the aftermath of this battle. Turning round I searched for the two heroes, finding them in animated discussion, if a halfling and a goose could be. 

I walked over and introduced myself (to the halfling, not to the goose). The conversation that unfolded was as strange as the one Jonathan had before with the goose. As I tried to make clear that I was very grateful for saving me, he was apologising for the behaviour of Gertrude (the goose), his failure to bring peace, his ambition to become a priest of Chislev. Personally I was getting a bit annoyed by his failure to notice a not that bad looking gnome lady standing in front of him. Then an inkling came over me, dear diary, which I couldn't stop. Lying a finger on his mouth, I ended his preaching. Then, before he could react, I kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, my priest and saviour” was what I whispered in his ear, followed by a hasty retreat, leaving him and the goose behind.

And that, my dear diary, was how a goose saved my day (and  I kissed a halfling in public!)