“Now then,”
Charella said, wiping coal dust from her goggles. “Let’s introduce you to the
rest of the crew of the Tinker’s Damn.” She turned and gestured to the elder
gnome male in the cab next to her, who was eyeing the adventurers with suspicion.
“This skinflint you’ve met already – Uncle Boddynock Nackle, our purser and
Gadgeteer-General.” Nackle’s whiskers
twitched and he grunted a greeting. “Up on the
foremounts are our tracklayers Orryn and Warryn Snowtracker,” Charella said,
indicating the two young gnomes tethered to the train’s crane boom. They waved
energetically at the adventurers. “Our guards
are Uppendown Tallcrippler and Tervaround Hollysharp, who your friend brought
back from the dead,” Charella said. “And bringing up the rear is our cannoneer Fruward
Shortcloak.” Fruward
waved sheepishly. “Sorry about the mess,” he said, pointing at the pile of snow
and ice that now filled the mountain pass. “A pleasure,
I’m sure,” Siegfried said. “Now then,”
Theryn said. “Where were you headed?” Theryn
noted that Nackle gave Charella a severe look and a slight shake of his head. Charella
shrugged, affecting nonchalance. “Oh, you know, just down the mountain.” Theryn
frowned. “More specifically, please?” Nackel
shook his head more forcefully this time. “Our business is our business, and I’ll
thank you not to stick your nose in too deep.” “Well
perhaps you can assist us in locating a landmark of some note,” Siegfried said.
He pulled out his sketchbook and sketched a drawing of the mountain that Theryn
had mentioned in his recounting of the Orc prophecy that had haunted his
dreams. He showed the finished product to Charella. “Seen a mountain that looks
like this? At one time its surface ran with blood?” Charella
looked at the parchment, and then traded a look with Nackle. She shrugged
again. “Well, a lot of these mountains look alike, you know what I mean?” She
waved her hand at the mountain range that ran to the horizon. It was Siegfried’s
turn to shrug. He knelt down to where the dwarf lay sniveling on the deck. “How
about you, does this look familiar?” The dwarf
squirmed against his chains. “Can ye…can ye fetch me reading glasses? They’re
in me top pocket.”
Siegfried smiled and deftly withdrew the glasses from the dwarf’s overcoat,
setting them atop his nose. The dwarf looked at the parchment and then gave
Siegfried a look, magnified by the thick lenses of his glasses. “What d’ye want
to be going there fer?” “Ah, so you
do recognize it!” Siegfried said, shutting his sketchbook. “Maybe?”
the dwarf replied warily. “Well then,”
Siegfried said. “I don’t believe I caught your name?” “Stragger,”
the dwarf said, a hint of prideful steel creeping back into his voice. “Stragger
Forgebar of Clan Forgebar.” “Well met,
Stragger Forgebar of Clan Forgebar,” Siegfried said, prestidigitating a leather
strap and a straight razor. He began stropping the blade on the strap. “It
seems to me that all that fuzz on your chin is fogging up your memory.” He
pulled out a small canister of Thann-branded shaving cream. “Speaking from
personal experience I never feel right until after my morning shave.” “Now wait a
minute,” Stragger said in a strangled voice. “Don’t be hasty. It’s just that ye
don’t want to be going there, y’see. It’s off limits to all right-thinking folk.”
“Oh, by all means keep talking,” Siegfried said, preparing a bib around Stragger’s
neck. “The longer you talk, the longer your beard shall grow. Cut the
conversation off, and, well…” Theryn took
a moment to take Uncle Nackle’s measure. It was clear to the monk that Nackle,
despite his subordinate position to the Boiler Boss and Shop Steward, was in a
leadership position of sorts on this crew, and likely answered to someone
higher back at the gnomes’ point of origin, and was cautioning Charella not to
give away more information away than necessary. “So,” Theryn
said. “You were heading down the mountain but came under attack from these
mounted raiders.”
Nackle and Charella nodded. “It seems
to me that you’re used to sheltering under the broad boughs of the evergreen,
only a dangerous amount of snow has built up on the branches above, and the
weight will soon become unbearable. Why not allow us to help lighten your load?” “Yes,”
Siegfried said. “What the monk said.” Nackle’s whiskers
twitched. “Fine. If you must know, we were on our way to Leilon.” “Ah, of
course,” Siegfried said. “Lovely little town Home to miners and a caravan stop
on the High Road from Waterdeep to Neverwinter and parts beyond.” He turned to
Alec and Theryn. “And it’s near where we want to go.” “And what’s
in Leilon?” Theryn asked. “Commerce,
mostly,” Charella said. She pointed at Stragger. “So, you gonna shave the dwarf
or what?” “Yes, back
to our good friend Stragger here,” Siegfried said, turning back to the trussed
up dwarf. “Let me give you some friendly advice. When your life, or the life of
your beard, is in the hands of another, it’s your job to give him a reason to
not do what he has threatened to do to you…or your beard. Point being, you must
find a way to be more amusing than the show you’ve otherwise been providing,
otherwise your audience-” he indicated Charella- “gets bored of your flailing
and stonewalling. So, will you entertain me with information about this mystery
mountain, or will you entertain this audience of gnomes with an increasingly
bare chin?” He took the razor and with a surgeon’s precision sliced a single hair
in half, which curled away in two pieces to drift out onto the snowbank. “Stonefang!”
Stragger blurted out. “It’s Mount Stonefang ye seek!” “Stonefang!”
Siegfried smiled and pulled the razor back. “Why, Stragger Forgebar, our
conversation is going to well I think I may just go into business as a barber
after all!” “Please hark
me words,” Stragger said. “I don’t go there – none of Clan Forgebar goes there,
y’see! We don’t visit that particular peak, nor walk into the shadow of its devilish
valley!” Bob opened
his eyes to a sea of inky blackness. He was cold, and his feet splashed in
waters that reflected the darkness back twofold. He could sense a spirit moving
over the face of the waters. He was not alone. Perhaps
now you have reached the beginning of understanding , the tired voice rang out. I protect my
children, to the best of my ability. There was a flickering at the
periphery of Bob’s vision, and it seemed like if he could just turn his head
faster, he’d be able to see who was talking to him, but he could not fix his
eyes on the blurred shape. Grandfather
Dragon? Bob asked. Am
I one of your children, or are you still talking about the gnomes? You are
full of interesting questions, young one. As for children, I was old
when Netheril was young, boy. I have seen kingdoms rise and fall, rise and fall
on the earth wiping each other away over and over like a palimpsest. But I have
had time to reflect, and remember Emerius. Emerius remembers you, Bob replied. But I am so tired, the voice said. I left a piece
of myself in Emerius, and perhaps now that piece has come home. Home? Bob replied, his pulse racing. Is home
nearby? In a manner of speaking. I have called many places home.
These mountains. Neverwinter. Even for a time in Emerius. Long have I protected
my children as though they were hearth and home. My ancestor was there in Emerius when the slaves broke free ,
Bob said. Yes, Robert Trevelyan, I remember. I was once enslaved
myself, and took pity on the slaves of Emerius. What is your name? Bob asked. Your forefathers knew me as Andusk, the voice said. There
was a bargain. A piece of myself, secreted safe and secure far from my
dangerous home, in return for your ancestors’ freedom from enslavement. Now,
centuries later, that piece has found its way across the deserts, the mountains,
the forest, back to me after all this time. I have stretched myself too thin
for too long, I feel myself drifting between the planes, but with your arrival,
perhaps you are my anchor to this world. There was a pause as though something had distracted Andusk. My children! You must save my children! Only then can we
continue this conversation. There was a sudden ferocity in the voice. Who are your children? Bob asked. We saved the
train from raiders this day, I think. I have long protected my children in Ieirithymbul, the
voice of Andusk said, ragged and tired, as though the intensity of its exclamation
had sapped its strength. But my sons are now in grave danger! I cannot see
my sons! Something has happened to them! Even I cannot be in two places at once.
Go now. Go to Ieirthymbul and save my sons! Bob’s eyes fluttered open. He was back in the mountains,
seated atop the armored carapace of the gnome train engine. “Did we win?” he
asked aloud. He got to his feet and staggered towards the train’s cab. He saw Siegfied holding a razor to the cheek of a frightened
dwarf. “Oh, hi Bob!” Siegfried called cheerily. “Siegfried’s about to shave a dwarf,” Alec said. “What do you have there, Siegfried?” Bob asked. “Apparently a dwarf who would very much not like to be our travel
guide in the mountains,” Siegfried said with mock sadness. “It’s all I can do
to refrain from shaving his chin clean, in exchange for some helpful
information.” It seemed to Siegfried that the dwarf was genuinely afraid
of Mount Stonefang. “Listen, it’s tradition in our clan to avoid that place
entirely!” Stragger said. “It’s a dark place in our history, our stories and
tradition. Even the youngest members of our clan know better than to tread upon
that cursed orc graveyard!” “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Siegfried said, patting Stragger’s
cheek with the flat of his straight razor blade. He prestidigitated the
foamy shaving cream off the dwarf’s chin and sat down next to Bob. “Glad you’re feeling okay, Bob.” Siegfried said. “I think we
should hand our prisoner over to the gnomes and let them deal with him. After
all, he’s their enemy, not ours.” Bob was itching some fresh golden scales on his forearms. “I
spoke to him, Siegfried. I spoke to a dragon. He told me he was there when my
city, Kirkwall, was founded. Back when it was a slave port known as Emerius. He
said his name was Andusk, and that his sons were in trouble in Ieirithymbul.” Nackle’s eyes widened. “Ieirthymbul? Where did you hear that
name?” “From the dragon,” Bob said. “What dragon?” Nackle said. On the floor of the train engine, Stragger sucked in his
breath. “The Unseen Protector!” he blurted. “What are you talking about?” Charella chirped. “Oh, I’m sure Stragger here will be delighted to tell us,”
Siegfried said. “If it keeps the hair on me chinny chin chin, then yes,”
Stragger replied. He nodded at the gnomes. “These gnomes hail from
Ieirithymbul.” “You shut your damned mouth, beardy!” Nackle said,
brandishing his thunder cannon. “We Forgebar dwarves and the Ieirithyn gnomes have been at
war for generations.” Stragger said, glaring at Nackle and Charella. “These
gnomes just sit on a vast fortune, a vasty fortune of precious metals, but do
they trade with their fellow short races? No! They lug a piece of it down to the
longlegs in Leilon whenever they fancy, and leave us to moil in the mountains.
That ain’t right, we Forgebar say. So we march on Ieirithymbul to make them see
the error of their miserly ways, but every time, we are attacked and beaten
back by an invisible golden dragon, their Unseen Protector!” “How can you see an invisible golden dragon!?” Siegfried and
Nackle blurted out in unison, and shared a look with each other. “I’ve heard the
Unseen Protector is a gnome wizard who watches over us,” Charella offered.
“You shut your yapper, child!” Nackle said. “There’s no use in spreading supersititions!” Siegfried stood up to his full height, towering over gnome and
dwarf alike. “Excuse me, but do you see my good friend Bob here?” Nackle, Charella, and Stragger nodded. “Finding out about the Unseen Protector is the most
important thing he has done in his entire life,” Siegfried continued. “I ask
you now to be generous with your knowledge, your lore, your oral traditions, superstitions
and suppositions, or mark me as I grind these mountains into pebbles and gravel
in the search for more information. Bob here needs to know this. Do not for one
moment underestimate my ability to be creative in getting what my friend needs
from you.”
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Nackle, Charella, and Stragger were taken aback. Then they
all started talking.