A Gnomish Solution Read online

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 a
nd 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