Gnome on the Range

The adventurers flew in a rough v-formation on the backs of their giant eagle mounts, the peaks slipping beneath them as they headed on a southeasterly course towards their destination. Bob kept a lookout for the three tall peaks that would lead the way to the hidden gnome settlement of Ieirithymbul - Mount Phaeldar, Mount Stemhelm, and Mount Ardabad. Sure enough, the three peaks hove into view ahead of them, cradling between them the narrow valley known as Felrenden, where Charella had told them Ieirithymbul lay carefully hidden. ‘This way!” Bob shouted eagerly, intent on discovering more about the mysterious Andusk and the supposed children under his protection. He urged his mount onward towards the valley. Siegfried did some mental figuring as his eagle struggled to keep its space in formation, wheezing in between each wing beat. From his conversation with Stragger Forgebar, he had gleaned that the dwarven enclave was located on Mount Galardrym, ostensibly nearby the trio of tall gnomish-named mountains. Stragger could have made it nearly 20 miles before his polymorph spell wore off , Siegfried thought to himself. If he’s gone back home for reinforcements, he’ll have quite a hike ahead of him, assuming he didn’t break his neck in the fall after turning back into a dwarf. The party members, even Siegfried, took a moment to appreciate the breathtaking sight their flight afforded them. The three mountains before them were ice-capped with sheer, imposing faces that seemed to descend deep into the bowels of the earth. A stream, fed by a retreating glacier that filled the gap between Mount Phaeldar and Mount Sternhelm, bisected the narrow valley, its course marked by several small waterfalls as it descended through the verdant basin. The eagle flight began to gently corkscrew downward. “This is it!” Bob shouted excitedly. He leaned over his mount, grabbing fistfuls of feathers to keep from falling. “There!” He pointed at a scattering of small structures barely discernible from the field they were arrayed upon. “That must be it!” Suddenly the sorcerer stiffened, his eyes rolling back into his head, and he slid bonelessly from his eagle, who screeched in alarm. Siegfried sighed. “We really have to tie a belt around that one.” He leapt from the back of his eagle, grabbing Bob in mid-air, and cast dimension door . The mystical portal opened 300 feet straight down, nearly at ground level, and the half-orc tumbled out onto the dew-laden field, the limp body of his companion cradled in his arms. “Brother!” Alec shouted from atop his eagle, a concerned look on his face as he struggled to command his mount to get down to the deck posthaste. Siegfried picked up the unresponsive Bob, who was babbling in a Draconic glossolalia that made the half-orc’s ears hurt just to listen to it. He set the sorcerer down in a more comfortable spot atop a spit of flat rock. He then looked about, gathering his wits and establishing his surroundings. A small village lay several dozen yards away, a cluster of tiny cottages situated on both banks of the stream that ran through the valley. As Siegfried cautiously approached, he could see that the tiny houses were conspicuously, even lavishly, embellished with finely-scrolled gingerbread work that piped along the eaves and the peaked rooftops that gave way to sheltered verandas upon which a gnome family might sit in matching rocking chairs, watching the brook burble by. The latticework was of fine craftsmanship to say the least. Siegfried smelled a rat. This village looked like the sort of Midwinter display that enterprising merchants would set up in the city squares of Neverwinter, decked out with the latest fashionable decorations of the season, in an attempt to market their wares to passers-by. Everything was too perfectly arrayed, right down to the tiny street signs marking little cobblestone lanes that connected the cottages to an arched bridge over the river festooned with cheery bunting that flapped in the breeze. Siegfried’s eyes glowed a bright red as he activated his eldritch sight . “Let’s see how illusory this village really is,” he said absently to his unconscious charge. The small huts were natural enough, but Siegfried caught some movement out of the corner of his eye that was anything but. A small-statured humanoid was tottering out from the open door of one of the nearby cottages, waving stiffly at Siegfried as he approached. The figure was dressed in a garish caricature—a racist one at that—of a garden gnome that was straight out a children’s fantasy book. The gnome in this case wore a tall, conical red hat and its cheeked were rouged to nearly the same shade. A simple tunic and breeches completed the picture, cinched by a wide belt. To Siegfried’s eldritch eyes, the gnome was suffused with transmutation magic. It was clear to him that this creature was no ordinary gnome, but rather a magically-animated construct, a product of artifice and wizardry, hence the stiff waving. “Welcome to our gnome!” the construct chirped in an altogether artificial voice that was as revolting as it was fascinating. “Thanks for visiting the old gnomestead!” “Shadowfelling constructs!” Siegfried hissed under his breath. The gnome-shaped construct tottered forward and pointed over Siegfried’s shoulder. “You don’t have to go gnome but you can’t stay here!” The other party members’ mounts began alighting on rocky outcroppings and other points on the hillside, and the adventurers dismounted, warily watching as several more automa-gnomes began popping up around the cottages. Alec immediately went to his brother’s side. Bob was still babbling incoherently. Siegfried made a warning gesture to his companions. “Do not attack these constructs. If we show aggression and attack first, things will go very badly, very quickly. “Constructs?” Theryn echoed. “What are they guarding, then?” He took a few steps towards the nearest cottage. As he mounted the veranda, the door before him opened and a construct shuffled stiffly out. “Gnome sweet gnome!” it squeaked. “Yes,” Theryn replied. “Might I take advantage of your hospitality?” He made as if to enter the cottage. The gnome stood firm. “Welcome to our gnomestead. You don’t have to go gnome, but you can’t stay here!” Theryn sighed as the artificial vocalizations from several other nearby constructs overlapped with one another, all based around gnomish puns. “What’s the plan?” he called over to Siegfried. “This place is a trap,” Siegfried surmised. “Orcs, frost giants, yetis, they will all be attracted to this kill box and attack it. We do not want to activate the kill box.” “What’s a kill box?” Varien asked. “How do you know of such a thing?” Siegfried’s glowing eyes blinked. “How do you not?” “These little gnomes are adorable!” Varien said with a smile. “For all we know, they are the cleaning staff for the gnomes who live here. You saw how those train gnomes loved their gadgets.” “These are constructs,” Siegfried said patiently, as if he were tutoring a princeling in need of remedial education. “I’m aware of that,” Varien snapped. “But, look how cute!” He waved at the stilted figures, who clumsily waved back. Siegfried turned back to the gnome construct before him. “My name is Siegfried Alagondar, and I come here as a friend. What is your name, or, uh, designation?” The gnome’s eyes flickered. “I’m just this guy, you gnome?” Siegfried sighed. “Right.” He turned and began to look about for anything out of the ordinary – spy holes or periscopes, where the masters of these artificial sentries might be observing. “Why do you think this is an ambush?” Varien asked. “It’s an obvious honey pot,” Siegfried said, pointing at a gynoid model, whose exaggerated curves were deliberate in their proportions. “Whatever,” Varien said. “How do you know?” “Because, over a hundred years or more, angry dwarves have been unable to find the village of Ieirithymbul, much less breach its defenses,” Siegfried explained. “Whatever murdery things happen when mooks stumble across this decoy village, I don’t want them to happen to us.” He frowned and kicked at a jumble of rocks. “Like a crossbow might shoot out of the gaps between these stones, or something.” Theryn shook his head. “There might be clues within these structures as to our next move,” He pushed past the construct and ducked down to clear the low door. A tiny hand reached out and gripped his robe with surprising strength. Theryn turned about and looked at the automa-gnome. Its eyes now glowed as red as its tall hat. “There’s no place like gnome,” it growled in a suddenly deep voice. “I’m just going inside for a moment,” Theryn said. The construct shook its head with the sound of metal on metal. “Gnome thank you.” Siegfried tried a different approach. “Ah, we’re going about this all wrong,” he said to himself, looking about for a door or hole big enough to drive a gnomish train through. Pulling out his travel papers, he presented them to the gnome guardian in an effort to distract it. “These should all be in order. We would like to request entry to Ieirithymbul immediately.” The gnome looked down at the papers and then back up at Siegfried. “I…don’t gnome what to do with this,” it said in a confused singsong. “Very well,” Siegfried said with aristocratic authority. “Then may I please speak with your manager or supervisor?” The sentry’s confusion was replaced with resolution. “This is gnome-man’s-land.” “Yes, but there must be a sentient operator with whom I can discuss terms,” Siegfried said. The sentry shook its head, the motion sounding like knives sharpening. “That’s on a need-to-gnome basis.” “I have authorization from Charella Mottinsleeves,” Siegfried said. Erwen stood nearby as another gnome sentry approached. “This is gnome-man’s-land,” it intoned. “You don’t have to go gnome but you can’t stay here.” “Enough of this,” Erwen snapped, and cast heat metal . Normal 0 false false false EN-CA ZH-CN X-NONE /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} The construct’s body began to heat up, glowing red. The heat caused the gnome’s rough-hewn clothing to catch fire, and its fleshy covering began to melt and run like strings of frying cheese, revealing a red-hot metal endoskeleton beneath. The construct’s glass eyes began to glow a darker shade of red. “Gnome means gnome,” it burbled.

Varien paced about and froze as the noxious smell of evil hit him full in the face. He looked about for the source and took an exploratory step to the south. The stench increased as he moved. “A task!” Varien gasped. He noticed that the river running through the valley seemed to be heading towards the source of the dark corruption. He followed its course and was astounded to see that the river seemed to flow and suddenly disappear into nothingness. He could, however, hear the roar of a waterfall nearby. He also placed the type of evil he had detected. Turning to his friends he shouted “DESECRATION!” and rushed to the south. Theryn shrugged and unlimbered his quarterstaff, bashing the gnome construct that barred his way. The strikes dented the construct’s hat and shattered one of its glass eyes. With the remaining eye glowing blood-red, the construct hissed at Theryn. “I have a very short temper,” it said. It opened its mouth wide, its jaw unhinging. Its false teeth retracted and were replaced with a sharp banded metal blade, like the jaw of a beartrap. The construct sprang at Theryn. The burning construct unhinged its jaw to reveal a razor-sharp band of metal where its teeth would normally be. It charged at Erwen, biting down on the druid’s oustretched arm. More gnome constructs began to advance on the adventurers, popping out of holes in the ground and streaming out of the cottages. Alec moved to defend his unconscious brother, picking up the nearest construct, inverting it, and driving it hat-first into the ground. Siegfried took half a step back as an automa-gnome popped up from the ground in front of him to join the other construct. He lunged forward and jammed the retractable cover of the hidey-hole open, peering inside. It looked like a snug capsule big enough to fit one concealed gnome-construct. He could see the spring-loaded trigger mechanism that would expel the construct from its hiding place, but couldn’t see a tunnel or other passageway. He felt four strong hands grab him. The gnome constructs’ limbs had split apart into industrial-strength clamps that had bitten down on him in an effort to restrain him. “Now, now, gentlemen,” Siegfried said in mock protest. “I do not consent to such manhandling.” He misty-stepped out of the guardians’ grasps and landed in the river, which was about four feet deep. He called out in Charella’s voice. “The decoys are defective! Hurry up and let us in!” Erwen glared at the construct. “So it’s a biting contest you want?” He cast conjure animals and a pack of wolves, sixteen strong, popped into existence nearby. He smiled. “Is that a snapping turtle? Because I don’t want to get bit!” The wolves descended on the nearest constructs, tearing into their clockwork bodies. A wolf’s jaw clamped down on the burning gnome guard’s neck. “You…don’t….gnome…me…” it said in a distorted voice before its internal mechanisms failed. There was a high-pitched whine as the construct’s power supply overloaded and the automa-gnome exploded, pelting the wolves with shrapnel. “Ouch!” Erwen said. Another group of wolves attacked the gnomes who were advancing on Bob, mauling them ferociously. Varien rushed headlong through the invisible barrier towards the source of the desecration, his sword out. Instantly he saw the breadth of the illusion – a false mountainside that covered over the river, which drained into a wide pit in a rushing waterfall. “Found it!” He called back to Siegfried and anyone else within earshot. The inside of the illusion was just as opaque as its outside, though now that Varien was aware of it, its opacity began to fade. He looked down the waterfall. “Looks like I’m going to have to jump!” he called out, and dove over the side of the pit. His fall came to a sudden arrest as he became entangled in a net that was stretched across the pit’s smooth-bored walls. “A trap!” Varien gasped between mouthfuls of glacier water. Siegfried let the river’s current pick him off his feet. “We’ve found the village!” he called to his companions as he drifted along. “It’s this way – jump into the abyss!” “There’s always an abyss!” Alec shouted as he slashed at an approaching construct.   Siegfried fired off a volley of eldritch blasts at the constructs as he passed by. Theryn dealt his opponent a killing blow and recoiled nimbly as the construct exploded, escaping harm. He rushed forward, running up the side of the cottage wall to intercept another advancing construct, knocking its head clean off its shoulders. Then he dove into the river and disappeared over the edge of the waterfall. He avoided the net trap and used his slow fall ability to absorb the impact of his rapid descent. He was standing at the base of a natural shaft cave. The waterfall spilled over the upper lip of the pit more than 50 feet above, and disappeared with a roar into a worked stone channel below. An algae-slicked stone walkway surrounded the base of the cave, leading to a tall iron gate that was flanked by two turrets that jutted out from the cavern’s smooth-bored wall. “Neat,” Theryn said to himself over the roar of the waterfall. Alec stood resolute against the advancing constructs, frowning as two of them got their teeth past his defenses and drew blood. Siegfried dog-paddled towards the illusory mountainside, which faded as his eldritch eyes took note of the illusion magic. He frowned as his senses began to tingle with a more familiar form of magical aura that seemed to billow up from the hole in the valley, a strange, blasphemous blending of illusion, enchantment, and abjuration magic. It was orcish cave magic, the kind conjured up by hag-like cave witches the likes of Sheenza the Spiteful. “Yield unto me!” Siegfried bellowed in orcish as he went over the side of the waterfall. He misty-stepped from his plunge, avoiding the net trap that had snared Varien, and landed atop one of the turrets mounted on the wall. He crouched on it, squinting through the spray of the waterfall as he pondered his next move. Blood-red billows of orcish cave magic were choking the chamber as they were expelled upwards to disperse in the air above the pit. I need to find the source of this corruption, he thought to himself The turret was fortified, its stonework too thick and its firing slit too narrow for him to squeeze through, much less pick out a destination for him to misty-step towards. He jumped down from the turret to land on the slick precipice and regarded the heavy iron doors. “These are clearly big enough for a train to drive through,” he said, self-satisfied. He turned and looked for the source of the orc magic. His eldritch eyes needed little help in focusing on the source. It was a carved wooden totem, festooned with bones, feathers, and other horrible objects. Someone had driven it into the stonework before the gateway, which Siegfried now couldn’t help but notice stood slightly askew, as if something with immense strength had forced the iron doors open. “We need someone who can dispel magic over here!” he shouted to Theryn.   Above ground, Erwen winced as another wolf died as a gnome guardian exploded after being torn limb from limb. There were overlapping chatterings from the advancing wave of gnome constructs. Though his wolfpack and Alec’s broadsword had put paid to most of the gnomes on the south side of the river, a group from the north had amassed and were now advancing over the bridge to meet them. Erwen ordered his remaining wolves to bottle the constructs up as they marched over the bridge.   “This totem looks like a recent addition to the landscape, wouldn’t you agree?” Theryn asked Siegfried, who nodded. “Varien!” Siegfried called up to the stranded paladin. “Would you like to break a totem?” “Very much so!” Varien burbled as the water continued to pummel him. Siegfried gestured to Theryn, who nodded. The monk, fleet of foot and no prisoner of gravity, ran straight up the waterfall and untangled Varien from the net. The pair then jumped free, landing safely nearby. Varien coughed water from his lungs, but managed to discharge a fire bolt at the offending totem, setting it ablaze.   Alec gamely hacked another automa-gnome apart, ducking shrapnel. Now it was the gnome army’s turn to fall upon their enemies. They swarmed over Erwen’s phalanx of brave wolf companions, whose growls of rage began to turn to yelps of pain and fear as the constructs did their vile work. The fur began to fly.   Siegfried conjured Hack into his fighting hand, eager to make use of it. He brought it down atop the burning totem with a powerful swing, aided by radiant energy that crackled out from the axehead. Abruptly the billowing red blood cloud dissipated as the totem was split end to end, falling apart in two pieces that smouldered of the stone floor, bleeding black blood from its insides. “It’s toast,” Siegfried said. Varien nodded. He could feel the aura of desecration already receding. “Now then,” Siegfried continued. “Let’s see if we can find any survivors.” “Survivors?” Varien said. Siegfried pointed to the damaged doorway. “These gates were forced by someone or something with great strength. I fear for the safety of the gnomes within.” He squeezed through the space between the heavy iron doors. On the far side of the gate, a tunnel descended into darkness. From sluice gates beneath the iron doors, the waters of the glacial river now reappeared, channeled down a stonework canal that ran down the centre of the steep ramp-like tunnel. The sound of machinery, coupled with the rushing water, filled Siegfried’s ears. There was a smooth ramp on either side of the channel, and Siegfried could make out what looked like retractable train tracks just beneath the water’s surface, leading up to the gateway. His eyes shining in the dark, Siegfried began to descend into the hidden city of Ieirithymbul.   Erwen let a single tear slide down his cheek before he began to chant an invocation. His wolves had served their purpose, halting the constructs’ advance and grouping them closely together so that they walked directly into his trap. He cast wall of fire and surrounded the clockwork guardians with a blazing barrier that set the constructs aflame. Normal 0 false false false EN-CA ZH-CN X-NONE /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} The fires were reflected in Erwen’s shining eyes as his face broke into a dark grin.