alhoon wrote:In search of Gnomish armor
"You have added a pool in there, haven't you Yelijd?" Fild said once he inspects the place. "I am a mercenary and adventurer, here with friends. We had a successful paying job in far away Povero and I am now looking for Banded Armor for my size. Folks directed me to your place. As a hobby, I'm also a plumber if you need any work done. I have my tools in the ship that brought us here."
After a minute, Fild asks "So, how are things for gnomes in Crabclaw? How many of us are there compared to the big folk? How many clans aside of Glorfungel?"
Fild finds the interior of the house damp and dirty, with sundry items heaped on shelves and stuffed into niches.
Three ducks swim in a circle in a muddy pool the covers the southern, lower side of the room.
"Pool? Accidental. I was trying to repair the drains and pumps, fix a leak in the floor."
Yelijd shrugs.
"Water is high, here, and the ground soft. But I found one slime opal while repairing the floor, and...you know how it can be. Wipe off the muck, see the matrix glittering, dancing, almost alive..."
The gnome's eyes gleam in the shadows as he speaks of gemstones.
He walks to the northeast corner and grabs a ten foot pole. Thrusting up, he opens the louvers and vents one by one, till sunlight floods half the room.
"A duck ate my slime opal after I dropped it." He jerks a thumb at the waterfowl splashing in the flooded area.
" I'm not sure which one. Either that one on the left or the one next to it. They look too much alike.But I though more ducks-- more chance of finding opals! They dredge the mud with their bills. Oh, my, you look confused? Have you eaten? I have some crab cakes around here someplace. "
Yelijd lifts a mudspattered step ladder from floor, moves it against the west wall, and climbs up to retrieves a hanging basket.
As he descends, he says,
"You asked about my clan? We do okay. It was better for all gnomes under the kings, of course. They appreciated us, our work."
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)