Excerpt for A Gnomish Solution by James Bailey, available in its entirety at Smashwords

A Gnomish Solution

by

James Bailey


SMASHWORDS EDITION


* * * * *


PUBLISHED BY:

James Bailey on Smashwords


A Gnomish Solution

Copyright 2011 by James Bailey

baileymrb@gmail.com


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*****


“Oi Foggle, where do you think you're going? Get over here!” Bellowed Innkeeper Durban, his one eye glaring balefully at the gnome as he attempted to back out of the door to the dwarf's Inn. Durban's Inn was the only Inn in Stolten, a small town near the dwarven capital of Nordrelm and a popular stopping point for travellers to the city. Durban himself was a middle aged dwarf, with long braided brown hair and an eye patch. His eye being lost in a battle against the orcs years ago. Durban looked as angry now as the day he lost his eye.

“What have ye done? Aye? I paid you and your idiot gnomes to keep my drinks cool behind the bar, look what ye done to them!”

The dwarf reached behind the large wooden bar, heaved out a barrel of mead, levered open the top and tipped it upside down.

“Frozen solid!” Shouted the dwarf shaking the barrel up and down, a few frozen chunks of mead dropping to the bar.

“Um, well, um, we may have perhaps, overshot the mark somewhat,” said Foggle, looking at the ground while shuffling his feet. Foggle was one of the many gnomish inventors from the nearby gnomish village.

“Somewhat! The dwarf pulled out a flagon of ale from the Gnomish Fridogomatic and pitched it at the wall. The wooden cup shattered on impact causing a cylindrical pillar of frozen ale to fall to the floor.

“How am I supposed to serve frozen drink! People don't come to my bar for a lolly pop, they want a drink!” Shouted Durban.

“Well, um, I am sure you can come up with some method of advertising while we correct the problem. Perhaps you would be interested in our Gnomish Microwizard, it will heat your beverages right up in an instant!” Foggle saw Durban's eyes widen with rage and hurriedly turned to leave the bar, seeking his escape until Durban swiftly roared at him to halt.

“STOP! No more of your contraptions, my fire will do nicely enough to thaw out what you have already frozen. Bah, should have known better than to trust my money with creatures that believe any simple job is better done with mechanical contraptions and the threat of explosion” The Dwarf grumbled to himself.

Foggle rose up in consternation, barely reaching the height of the dwarf's chin. “Excuse me, but our mechanical contraptions are of the highest quality and there is a very low risk of explosion with all our merchandise.” Foggle corrected, a stern expression on his face as his race's famed engineering ability was derided.

“What exactly do you consider a low risk of explosion then?” asked the dwarf with feigned casualness.

“Oh about fifty percent in the first year” replied the gnome with a satisfied expression

Sighing Durban picked up the broom he kept to the side of the bar and began sweeping up the pieces of flagon and ice from where the frozen mead hit the wall. There were no patrons at the Inn at this early hour of the day, Durban generally did not bother opening until midday. Despite this it did not seem to stop Foggle's fellow gnomish tinkerers from barging in to either sell him improvements or try to fix the one's he had been either too drunk or too nice to say no too.

“Um, have you heard the latest news?” Asked Foggle, attempted to divert the subject from the frozen brew and any other touchy subjects.

“What news?” Asked Durban, disinterestedly still sweeping, half expecting the gnome to start babbling about some new gnomish invention that was sure to leave another half mile crater somewhere nearby.

“The Elves to the North are joining the fight against the orcs! Isn't that great!” Foggle exclaimed, his face lighting up with a broad grin, thinking this might brighten Durban's mood.

“Elves? Those pansy, stuck up, little, pointy eared creatures? For crying out loud what am I going to have to do now, put in some fancy tables and chairs and start serving wine and chilled grape juice? Bah, I don't even know why we even bother with them, they have never liked us and we have never liked them.”

Foggle's eyes lit up. “Wine! Of course, I can start building an automated grape crusher and fermenter! Well I think I will have to start work on a prototype to send to the elves to test out. What a wonderful opportunity!” A look of delight took over the Foggle's face as he thought of the new market this fresh alliance would bring.

Durban stopped and stared at the gnome, visions of elves getting covered in half smashed grapes as Foggle's contraption blew up in their face came to him. A smile crept over his face for the first time that morning.

“Good idea, get right on that.” Durban encouraged.

A smile beamed on the Foggles face as he saw he had started to turn Durban's mood around at last.

Suddenly the doors to the Inn crashed open and a gnome walked in, covered in blood and feathers with a half cooked chicken in his hands.

“Foggle, the automated chicken rotisserie has a minor glitch, but the chicken is mostly cooked though would you like to see? ” The gnome started to walk towards Foggle, chicken held out in front of him as blood and feathers started to fall to the floor. Durban's bad mood returned in an instant.

“OUT! Get out and clean yourself up before you come in here.” Durban bellowed moving to poke the gnome in the stomach with the end of his broom handle as the gnome hurried out of the bar.

“Oh dear, I had such hopes for that project,” said Foggle morosely.

Durban turned to Foggle a furious expression on his face. “All day, every day I have to put up with this. For crying out loud I am going to have a word with that guard Rognar, this will be the last morning I will put up with some gnome barging in here covered in blood or oil and messing up my Inn. How many times has it been this week now! Going to be one of those days gnome, mark my words!”

With this Durban stormed out to the storeroom to inspect his latest batch of brew, Foggle following him after pausing a moment to look at the door. Plans for a timed locking mechanism for different times of the day popped into his head but he knew better than to suggest this as a solution to Durban right now.

Durban opened the door to his storeroom, his nostrils immediately assaulted by the scent of yeast and alcohol from the fermenting brew. Rows of barrels lined the room, markings on the top indicating the type of brew in each barrel and the date the brew was made. Faintly the sounds of bubbles breaking on the surface of the brew could be heard as the yeast fermented. Durban slowly went to the first barrel, putting his ear to it listening to the bubbles, making sure his latest batch was coming along nicely, tapping softly down the sides to break up any yeast stuck to the sides.

Foggle crept into the room, his natural urge to try and improve taking over his survival instinct. “Um, have you given any thought to my offer to streamline your brewing and bottling process.” Foggle reached into his back pocket, pulling out a folded up blueprint. Unfolding it, were the plans to an enormous machine resembling an over sized boiler with dozens of pipes and chimneys pouring off of it to smaller boilers.

Durban did not even look up from his barrel.

“No.” Durban said flatly.

“But I have made some significant improvements to the last prototype I showed you. If you would just have a look...” Foggle persisted.

“What happened to the last prototype?” Durban asked in a monotone.

“A minor malfunction”

“How big a crater did it leave?” Durban said in the same monotone.

“36.7 feet in diameter believe.” Foggle said thinking to himself for a moment to remember the number.

“Definitely no then.” Durban stated definitively as he continued inspecting along the row of barrels.

A voice called out from the main bar. “Durban you in here somewhere?” Durban recognised the voice of Rognar Thunderbrew. “We have a big problem.”

“Bah. I'll show him a big problem.” Durban muttered to himself, staggering to his feet. Sighing he called back. “Coming! Wanted a word with you anyway about those blasted gnomes.” Durban stomped out of the storeroom, Foggle in tow.

Rognar stood in the centre of the front bar a worried expression on his face. Of a similar age to Durban, Rognar was of average height for a dwarf but of above average girth. Clearly Rognar had been partaking of more than one too many Durban's famous boar steaks, with more than one too many ales to wash it down. Wearing a heavy coat made of boar skin, a large battleaxe was strapped to his back, a battleaxe had spent more time getting polished than bashing enemies.

Durban strode into the bar determinedly. “Before you start Rognar let me say my peace. Stop letting every wretched gnome into this bar to either sully my floor or install some ridiculous contraption. Your business is security and your post is almost right outside, when you see a gnome coming, particularly one covered in oil or wielding a blue print, stop him! They mess up the place and come in at all hours, I have had it up to here Rognar!” Durban gestured above his head. Foggle raised is hand to interrupt in defence of his people but thought better of it considering Durban's mood.

“Bah! They're harmless, and many are your best customers. Anyway we can talk of that later Durban. Word has come from one of my hunters that there is a horde of yeti's about to charge down towards the village. Problem is there is only one other guard here, rest are dealing with the Orcish presence to the east.” Rognar said anxiously, breathing heavy by the end of his speech.

“Wait! What? Well how far away are they, anyone run to Nordrelm yet to give word?” asked Durban, looking behind his bar for his own battleaxe, his being a little less polished than Ragnor's due to it's frequent use in opening kegs.

“I sent a dwarf up there but it won't be in time. We are going to need to either barricade or fight them off till help arrives.” As Rognar ended his sentence a distant roaring could be heard that Durban recognised as the bellowing of a large group of Yetis.

“Damn it this morning isn't getting any better,” Durban said. “Come on we'll run down and grab that last guard, he can help organise the defence.”

Rushing out of the bar, Durban ran down the road seeking out the lone remaining Nordrelm guard, Foggle and Rognar in tow. Nordrelm sent out regular patrols through the surrounding area to keep the roads clear of trolls, yeti and the various wildlife, while keeping the villages safe for the dwarven and gnomish inhabitants. A few yards south of his Inn Durban saw the guard slumped asleep against a tree, an empty skin of dwarven stout on his bulging chest.

Durban rapped him on his head. “Wake up idiot, yetis are coming!”

Snuffling, the guard mumbled something in his sleep.

Durban turned to Rognar who arrived just behind him, breathing heavily from the short run.

“Give me the skin of stout you've got hidden Rognar” Durban said.

“What stout?” Rognar said innocently, Foggle shook his head in disapproval behind him knowing exactly what Durban was talking about.

“The one you pinched from behind my bar, Rognar, don't bother denying it just hand it over.” Durban said impatiently.

Silently Rognar pulled out the skin from his pocket and handed it over.

Thawed out in Rognar's pocket but still very cold, Durban pored it over the sleeping guards head.

“Gaaahhhh, what the bleeding heck are you doing to me!” Shouted the guard, jumping to his feet.

Durban poked him in the chest. “You shut up, you're a disgrace. Now there are yeti coming and you need to get moving. Go grab Grebnar Greybeard and start getting the towns defence organised.” Grebnar was the town leader, a war veteran who was convinced the Orcs or the Goblins would be invading again any day now. Perfect for this occasion Durban thought. “Foggle go warn your bunch and make sure they either start evacuating or get ready to defend their homes. Rognar, go warn the blacksmith and his apprentices we could use their iron.”

“Yes Durban,” both Dwarves and the gnome said in unison. Rognar, the guard and Foggle all set off north back towards Stolten.

Alone for the first time in what seemed like hours Durban sighed, took a moment to collect himself before and trudging back to his Inn to grab his arms and armour. “Its been a while since I got to whack something that wasn't a drunken customer, mayhap the day is picking up after all,” he muttered to himself.

A few minutes later Grebnar Greybeard, Rognar, the local blacksmith and his apprentices, the lone remaining Nordrelm guard, and a handful of other dwarves from the town were assembled in the middle of the main road. Durban staggered out of his Inn walking stiffly in armour that had last been worn by a far slimmer version of Durban from many years past. Despite most of the assembled dwarves wielding vintage arms and armour and none having seen proper battle for years, defeat had not entered his or any of the other dwarf's minds. The blacksmith and his three apprentices all wielded swords or hammers, well made, likely intended for some customer after the battle. They could always say they were testing them out Durban thought to himself. Grebnar himself had a huge battleaxe that had clearly seen much use in its day, Rognar wielded his too, the sun almost blinding Durban as it glinted off of its ridiculously polished metal. The few local dwarves were wieldinga motley array of axes or hammers from battles past, one dwarf wielding a garden shovel he must have been using at the time the call reached him. Durban noticed that one group was conspicuously absent however, the gnomes. Where are they? Durban thought to himself, they may be annoying, small and unhelpfully over helpful but they were never ones to shy away from a fight.

“Oi Grebnar! Where are the gnomes?” Shouted Durban joining the group.

“One of them ran down, I forget his name. He said they were coming but who knows with them. Likely they are trying to get some contraption of theirs ready to help fight the battle” Grebnar replied, staring at a ridge to the south where the distant roars of the yeti could occasionally be heard.

Fear suddenly gripped Durban as his imagination ran wild at the thought of what the gnomes would attempt to use against the yeti, visions of Stolten becoming a smoking crater due to some outlandish weapon of the gnomes sprung to mind. Grebnar had not seen the destruction the gnomes attempt at brewing had caused. Durban, despite everything, was secretly quite fond of the gnomes and did not want them to get into a battle that they weren't ready for.

As if on cue Durban heard a rumbling from the nearby gnome settlement, all the dwarves, Grebnar included, turned at the rumbling noise wondering what else could be attacking them. Suddenly what appeared to be some form of large cannon appeared around the corner, a dozen oxen slowly dragging it down the road towards them. Foggle could be seen beside the oxen, seemingly pleading with the beasts to hurry along.

“What the heck have they done this time?” Durban muttered to himself as he walked over next to Grebnar whose mouth was agape.

The group of dwarves moved out of the road as the monstrosity reached them, coming to a halt in the middle of the group.

Dismounting, Foggle approached Grebnar and Durban. “May I present the Steam Powered Rapid Fire Gnomish Super Cannon! Friend dwarves your weapons will not be needed.” Foggle beamed at the two, very proud of himself.

Seeing Grebnar was still in a state of disbelief Durban took it upon himself to reply.

“It's ah, it's very impressive Foggle. Can I ask if you have you tested it yet though?” Durban asked, guessing at the answer.

“Of course not!” Foggle replied as if it was a silly question. “This is the perfect opportunity to test it. Do not worry though I have made sure to install several vents to prevent pressure build up. I assure you this is highly unlikely to explode.” Foggle smiled looking confident.

Durban sighed, remembering what Foggle considered to be an unlikely chance to explode. “Fair enough, fair enough. What can it do then that a normal cannon can't”

Pleased that his weapon had been seemingly accepted by Durban, Foggle explained “Unlike normal cannons that need to be manually reloaded, our weapon can be loaded with multiple shot so it can keep on firing.”

Durban looked over the cannon puzzled. “Where's the ammunition then?” he asked

All the gnomes paused in their chatter between each other as they realized their mistake.

“Oh dear” said Foggle

“We'll stick to the old sword and axe perhaps then,” said Durban dryly.

Suddenly a loud roar came from over the ridge in the distance, as a lone dwarf leapt over the top and sprinted towards them.

“Malok!” Grebnar exclaimed swiftly recognising him. Moving towards the dwarf as he sprinted towards them. “What are you doing here?”

“I was hunting in the area when I saw the trolls and yeti grouping together, I ran over to warn you but I think I am too late.” Malok said pausing for a breath between each word.

“Trolls too?” The confidence that had been in every dwarf's face noticeably weakened.

Coincidentally troll battle cries now sounded in the distance, accompanied by the bellows of numerous yetis, slowly moving towards Stolten.

Durban, who had moved forward to join the pair, grabbed Grebnar by the shoulder and swung him round to face him. “We can't hold against the trolls and the yetis without some of us dying” Durban said worriedly.

“I know this but what would you have of me? Flee to Nordrelm? We must hold here, we have no other choice,” Grebnar stated.

Durban furrowed his brow in thought, looked at the cannon quickly and the size of the barrel. “Mead,” he said. “We can use my mead!” Durban ran into his bar quick and grabbed one of the several small barrels of mead Foggle had frozen with his machine. Grebnar stared at him in puzzlement, the other dwarves and gnomes watching the ridge for the impending attack.

Durban ran towards Foggle, a barrel of mead under his arm, Foggle looked at him with a startled expression. “Foggle!” Durban said, “will these barrels fit in your cannon?”

Without a thought to the imminent attack Foggle took a barrel from Durban, turning it in his hands mumbling measurements to himself, after a few moments he replied. “Well yes it should fit nicely into the barrels. Of course we will need to perform a few tests first and balance out the proper amounts of powder for different distances and such.”

“No time gnome! You lot!” Durban shouted waving an arm at the gnomes milling around near the gnomish cannon. “Head in and grab as many barrels as you can carry and start loading them! Foggle, you tell me where we should be pointing this thing so it will hit that ridge.” Grebnar, now realising what Durban intended, called some of the dwarves over to help Durban position the cannon.

A minute later the cannon was ready to fire its frozen brew, Foggle ready at the rear, hands grasping an over sized trigger. Dwarves and gnomes were armed and ready on both sides of the cannon to hopefully finish off any stragglers the cannon missed.

Durban stood beside Grebnar battleaxe in hand. “Got your will in order Grebnar?” Durban asked Grebnar wryly.

Grebnar barked out a laugh. “I ain't falling to any trolls today Durban.”

Durban replied. “I was thinking more of this cannon exploding than any trolls my friend,” Durban grinned. “I never told you how that crater appeared near the lake.”

Grebnar looked at him sharply eyes widening. Suddenly a loud battle roar could be heard from the ridge and all eyes snapped forward. Large hairy yetis leapt over the ridge, trolls wielding spears behind them, prodding the yeti forward. Durban counted a dozen yeti with twice as many trolls following their lead. Too many for the motley crew of gnomes and dwarves to take on alone, they needed the cannon to work.

“You ready to fire that thing Foggle!” Durban shouted

“Ummm, yes I think so.” Foggle said with a quavering voice. “I do hope it works there are so many plans I haven't finished yet.”

“Shut up and fire!” Durban shouted.

Foggle closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.

A loud flash near blinded Durban, he raised his free arm to shield his eyes before a wave of hot air blasted him backwards knocking him into a tree trunk and out cold.


* * * * *


Durban awoke some time later. Blearily he opened his eyes, to see Foggle and Grebnar peering down at him.

“I told you he would wake up” Foggle said to Grebnar irritably.

Grebnar grunted in reply.

“What happened?” Durban asked hoarsely, struggling to sit up. Looking around he realised he had been dragged into his main bar and was lying along a bench. A strong smell of beer permeated the air.

“Well” Foggle answered “The cannon worked beautifully. Of course you wouldn't know since you were knocked unconscious by the shock of the first firing, but all barrels shot out beautifully.” Foggle's face beamed as he answered.

Grebnar rolled his eyes and poked Foggle on the shoulder. “He doesn't care about your damn cannon Foggle.” Grebnar turned back to Durban. “The force of the first blast knocked out those standing near the cannon, some of the other boys got knocked out too. I must admit the gnome's cannon did all the work, they certainly saved us this time,” Grebnar said with a look of near regret on his face as he didn't get to use his battleaxe one more time. “Each barrel blew through half a dozen of the creatures. The wolves will be having a feast tonight with all the bits of yeti and troll down the road to chew on.”

Durban sighed in relief. “Town is safe for another day then.”

“Oh it is” said Foggle. “I have been going over the performance of the cannon with some of my fellow gnomes, and with a few improvements I think it could become an excellent form of defence for the town.” Foggle said still beaming. The success of one of his creations being like the birth of a child to Foggle.

“I think we have a bigger threat than yeti now Grebnar,” Durban said to Grebnar wryly before closing his eyes and drifting back off to unconsciousness, dreaming of frozen mead and fleeing yeti.

“What did he say?” Foggle asked Grebnar.

Chuckling Grebnar lied to the gnome. “He said he is so glad we had your help Foggle.”

“Oh of course he is!” Foggle said beaming, striding out of the bar and back to his home to celebrate victory.

Grebnar still chuckling patted Durban on the head and sat down next to him with a slowly thawing flagon of ale, waiting for his friend to wake up.


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