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| - "Do you know what the biggest pressure upon me at the moment is?" King Boelryn asked as he paced his room in the Tree Gnome Stronghold. "The clue's in the name." "Yes, we know he's your family," Veedi began. "It's more than that though, he's more than just royalty, he's almost a Messiah to them. They say if he can stop the Khazardians he can most definitely stop the perpetrators of the attack! But what about me? I turn to him for guidance in these desperate times, I assigned myself to stand in his shadow. Think about it Veedi, I was only picked to be King here because of the loose family ties, because my name derives from Bolren's, because I might just happen to have a tiny percentile of his blood in my body!" "No your Majesty no, you were picked for leadership skill, and bravery-" "I'm not fit to rule!" He slumped into his throne, the colour drained from his face. "The gnomes have no faith in me, whenever they do bother to ask of me it is to inquire of noble Bolren, and listen to me, I say his name with a pang of jealousy in my voice now! I'm a fool." "What happened at the Village was not your fault, you are not responsible for there," Veedi affirmed. "I can't just leave it though, they're family, friends, the same flesh and blood as us!" "You know that too much obsession with one's own kind is what composed a certain man who kidnapped me." "It's not like that-" "I know. You're worrying over your own kind, our own kind, for all the right reasons. You're both two distinct sides of the same coin. Therefore we must do something about the Village as you said." "Veedi, there is only one thing we can do; go there ourselves, help them before those wretched Khazardians help lay waste to them as well. The Battlefield is said to grow ever weaker by the day!" "Yes your Majesty, I will call upon Paula and Ronthin to come with us, we'll need a vigilant group, and we can travel by Gnomecopter and be back before dusk tonight." "Excellent excellent thinking! Contact them right away, we're in a world of haste now I'm afraid Ms. Limstrood." Gnomecopters were peculiar contraptions at the best of times, and with more of the Stronghold's dwindling wealth being directed to defence, they were falling into a state of disrepair over the course of several months and foul weather. The dangling propeller on one of them made Ronthin's stomach churn as he observed what happened to be the only mode of transportation available. "Ever flown in one of these before?" Boelryn asked his subjects. "Yes actually," Ronthin piped up, gulping as an unpleasant thought crossed his mind. "Ronthin, you never mentioned you'd mastered the art of air travel," Paula smiled. Veedi was fiddling with the various pieces of framework of a Gnomecopter, not entirely convinced by the idea of flying in one of them. "Well, his Majesty asked if we'd ever flown in one, I'd call 'mastering' one of them a bit of an overstatement, to be honest." "What happened?" Paula asked him, intrigued. "I spent the good part of a day caught in a nasty gale, and by dusk I had six broken bones and a smashed Gnomecopter at the foot of Eagles' Peak." This unpleasant revelation caused Veedi to snap off a propeller she had been fiddling with. Any faith in the devices had now long since gone. "Oh I do love a good story," Paula quipped, biting her lip and eyeing up Veedi's Gnomecopter. "I'd recommend we take seed pods, because once we've landed one of these I very much doubt we'll be coming back on them," Ronthin noted. "Ah, good thinking, I've got a large stash of seed pods for emergencies," Boelryn noted, opening up a robe of his and revealing his inner pockets lined with stitched in seed pods. "Of course I have to be careful when I unthread them, nasty tendency to go off when you don't want them to. Especially at royal dinners. Never good." "Your Majesty, I can't help but think your robes aren't really, well, suited for journeying into treacherous land," Veedi said. "Couldn't agree more Ms. Limstrood," Boelryn replied, as he removed his robes and revealed basic green attire the rest of the group were wearing. "Well now we've got our fashion sense sorted out, what are we going to do about the Gnomecopters?" Paula asked. "There is one other option," Veedi began; "gnome gliders." "How though? You need to be properly trained to pilot one of them, they're not as straightforward as our scrapheap qualifying friends over here," Boelryn responded. "Arthur and Stanley used a gnome glider to get here, you know they did, they said so." "They crashed theirs Veedi." "They're our best hope, and the only other option is going by foot or by somehow becoming wizards over night and miraculously finding enough runes for the four of us." "I think she's right," Paula said. "I hope she's right," Ronthin muttered. "Then it's settled, I'll ask my father and brother. Shan't be long." Amidst a field of Cute Creatures and butterflies, Stanley wandered after his father in deep thought. Their surroundings however were a world away from the supposed dangerous times the Stronghold was going through. Still, Stanley was troubled, but his father clearly wasn't. "Keep up boy, or it'll be swamp tar for supper tonight if you carry on moping," Arthur grunted, albeit pleased with himself on his successful yet suspicious arrival at the Stronghold. "Dad," Stanley said. "Yes?" "Don't you feel, well, that we're wrong?" "Wrong?" "In what we're doing, with the humans." "Our little scheme? Wrong? Of course not son, we're protecting our family; if it wasn't for our little alliance, we'd have burnt along with the rest of the Tree Gnome Village." "But still..." "Don't tell me lad, you lay eyes upon your sister and you suddenly get a moral kick up the-" "No. No, it's been playing on my mind for a while." "Well, it was clearly playing on your mind when you helped get the humans into the Village, or when you watched the Moss Giant stamp on gnome after gnome as they fled." "That was survival. Nothing else." "Well what do you think we're doing now, eh? We're surviving." "But we're with Veedi now, we're safe, we will survive, in here!" "And what when the humans arrive? Hmm? They haven't forgotten you know." "Forgotten what?" "That the gnomes live on; and that we've still got a few jobs to do for them." "And what if I refuse to help?" "Well then son, you'll die with the rest of the gnomes, like your fool of a sister." Stanley shook his head, and angrily walked off, a Cute Creature bounding after him. Veedi hurried across the grassy plain within the Stronghold up to her father. "Father, we need your help with something," she panted, out of breath. "Veedi my dear, you're just in time, I was about to come looking for you. Your brother's headed off now though." "What's the matter with Stanley? Looked a bit tied up over something." "Petty squabbling over beds. Mind you, that's young men; far too much bombast and emotion, he'll get over it." "Well, perhaps more urgently, we need your help, with a gnome glider." "A gnome glider? Cor, I was only saying to your brother this morning if I ever saw another one it'd be too soon." "This is urgent though, we must get to the Tree Gnome Village-" "My dear girl, the Tree Gnome Village? But why? That place is smoldering away, overrun with the humans now!" "We've got to help them, King Bolren himself is still trapped somewhere out there, he may even be dead." Arthur stopped to think. There would be a fine price on the head of the Village's King, and both he and Stanley were aware that Bolren and a few of his closest subjects had got away during the height of the violence. Perhaps luring him back closer to home would make finishing the task a lot easier, he wondered to himself. "You're absolutely right Veedi. Yes, I'll come straight away." Looking in the best possible state it was ever going to, the five gnomes admired the gnome glider that stood before them. "It'll be a squeeze, but its safer if we all use one together," Arthur said. "I'll go and gather my belongings-" Ronthin began, but was cut off. "Belongings? What on Gielinor makes you think this gnome glider's cut out to take any more weight than it's going to?" "He's right Ronthin, besides, we're not going to stay there too long hopefully," Veedi intercepted, but thought to herself how many other times 'not staying too long' had turned into something longer than planned. "Oh, of course," Ronthin replied, slightly taken aback by Arthur's abrupt tone. "Your Majesty, if you'd like to go first," Arthur said, helping Boelryn get himself gripped on to the glider. Not even the goggles everyone sported obscured the great drop from the top of the Grand Tree from where the glider would launch to the ground of the Stronghold below. While this was probably safer, none of them would oppose the idea of not having to look down before take off, or during flight as well. "Now where me and Stanley went wrong was misjudging the wind current, but fortunately for us the weather has taken our side today, and we've got a near-perfect southerly breeze that should take us straight over Hemenster and Ardougne, and then on to the Village," Arthur said encouragingly. "Blimey, he has more charisma than me," Boelryn muttered to himself, adjusting his goggles. Following helping the three younger gnomes into position on the glider, Arthur stepped forward, and after a dragged out and tense preparation for launch, the glider was in the air. Not especially high at first, but enough to gain crowds of gnomes staring up and pointing in excitement. "Diplomatic paradise," Boelryn grinned to himself; none of the gnomes had ever looked so pleased to see him in the last few weeks. Some way from the Khazardian Battlefield where the gnomes fought perilously against a faction of humans, the smoldering Tree Gnome Village stood. The hedges of its protective maze were torn and a lone Moss Giant heaved itself through the gaps bringing about further damage. The inside was still recognizable, but still some small fires smoldered away and thick clouds of ash had coated much of the grass and trees. Overall, it was a sorry sight for gnomekind, and one which would surely distress the approaching group. The gnomeglider had narrowly missed being torn apart by a spire in Ardougne, but it had finally arrived after some time in the skies above the Village. "Carefully does it!" bellowed Arthur as the craft came in as delicately as possible. With a strong heave it finally swooped down on to one of the raised platforms of the Village. With a thud it made contact, causing gasps from the five gnomes at the shock of landing on solid ground again. "Thank goodness we brought the seed pods for the return journey," Ronthin noted, shaking the tension out his arms and legs. "Ronthin watch it!" yelled Veedi. Ronthin froze. In his careless and disorientated movement he had failed to notice the large gaps in the floor surrounding the trees. The Village was raised above ground, and the splintered wooden pathway proved this all too well as a chilling drop down laid before Ronthin. "Blimey, close call," Ronthin uttered, his body tingling with shock at the sight of the drop before him. "Clumsiness aside, we've come here for a reason," Boelryn interrupted. "Yes of course your Majesty, now where shall we start looking?" Veedi asked. Boelryn thought to himself where exactly, the Village was not as big as the Stronghold but nonetheless was big enough. Navigating the treacherous terrain would not be quick, and would certainly be dangerous judging by the rampaging Moss Giant. "We'll go level by level, and if all else fails we'll enter the maze," Boelryn said. "And what if we find him injured?" Paula asked. "Good good point my dear, now should that be the case we'll give him a pod to get back to the Stronghold immediately. Some of us of course will have to stay here to look for any others in need of course." "Right then, let's save gnomekind," Veedi piped up. Arthur grinned to himself as the group set off, admiring the destruction he'd managed to bring... As the Sun set over the wrecked Tree Gnome Village, a sense of overwhelming apprehension swept over Veedi and Paula. The group had separated to cover more of the Village before nightfall, and as their shadows grew longer in the approaching dusk, it dawned on them that the chances of finding Bolren alive were growing slimmer by the second. "It's no use Veedi, I hate to say it but isn't it time we found the others?" Paula huffed disappointingly. "I was thinking the same thing. It's not safe here, the place is in ruin and every so often, I hear that Moss Giant stomping ever closer," Veedi replied. It was true, this former sanctuary for Gnomekind was now nothing more than a trap filled with corpses and various dangerous beasts that once roamed the now tattered and torn maze. "Oh my," Paula uttered, her throat going dry. Veedi swung round, already experiencing paranoia in these twilight hours. "What is it Paula? Is it him? Is it Bolren?" she asked. "No, no. It's my, well, my cousin." "Your cousin?" "Sabbam Hydrygg, the ever-distant black sheep of the family. Scrawled out of the family tree and abandoned. I haven't seen him in years. He was evicted from the Stronghold by my father and uncle, he was tied to gangs and illegal imports. Always standing on the wrong side of the line he was, always the outsider 'cause he dreamed of a big wide world beyond the Stronghold gates." "You've never said..." "About him? Why would I? Any mention of him and my family's stomachs would churn. You know what? He grew to hate us so much in the last few months he was in the Stronghold he even changed the way he spelled the family name." "I'm sorry." "Don't be, it's not like I've turned over a body and found mother or father. I suppose Sabbam is the epitome of all this isn't he? Squabbling, bickering, all these stupid differences, they all blossom into the most tainted fruits; anything not close enough to ourselves brings out the worst in us. My family, your kidnappers, humankind in general against us, goblins and elves, it's always the same, it all treads the path towards war." "Conflict. Two differences too big to be tolerated." Paula placed Sabbam's tattered hat back on to his head, covering over a nasty wound inflicted upon his forehead. It can't be much further, can it? My aging limbs are going to snap at any moment now, Boelryn pondered to himself. He wasn't as old as King Bolren, but was equally as weak and tired as the vulnerable King of the Tree Gnome Village. With Ronthin by his side though, Boelryn felt more likely to hold up against his weary body. "We can only hope so, though the more you ask the more likely it sounds as if we're about to give up!" Ronthin replied. "Yes, yes, I know, but I'm an old and crotchety King, and on top of that concerned and confused and what-not!" "You've got enough on your shoulders already, it's very admirable that you're so determined to protect the Village as well." "Well Ronthin, if the humans are going to band together, then so will we. If they have their own backs, somewhat's got to have our backs too, hmm?" "I've always thought highly of you, your Majesty." "Pardon?" "Veedi told me how you've been having doubts these last few days of your abilities, and why you've been filling in for King Narnode lately." "Oh, she has?" "Well I want you to know, they picked you on your merit. People have been watching you for decades now, all them peculiar positions in the Stronghold that have been dealt to you, not bad ones of course but unusual ones; almost as if they never allowed you to be important enough." "Well yes, maybe they weren't the highest of positions but they were necessary-" "But that's the point your Majesty, the diligence you put in over the years, the reputation you earned; all them political off-shots and false leadership potentials got you noticed, and you might just be the person to lead us out of these dark times." "You're very kind Ronthin, and your words do fill me with hope - something I need more often these days. Can you keep a secret though?" "Why of course, your Majesty." "You know they say names hold great secrets?" "Yes, it sounds familiar." "Well do you know why me and Bolren share such similar names, hmm?" "You're distant cousins, aren't you?" "Not at all. My father was actually one of the most trusted servants in the Village in the days of Bolrie and Bolren, so much he was permitted to almost take on the name of its leader. I don't have royal blood in me, Ronthin, I'm the grandson of a servant. Not special in the slightest way." "But your Majesty, you still don't see, your father being a servant and you being a King, makes you all the more special." "Ronthin!" Boelryn's exclamation and abrupt end to conversation signaled a discovery; Bolren lay on his side motionless, minus a crown, with his white beard bloodstained and a ferocious wound across his forehead. "Your Majesty! It is me, Boelryn!" "Veedi! Paula! Mr. Limstrood! We've found him! Quickly!" Ronthin bellowed. "The most faithful gnome that ever lived," uttered an ancient voice. Ronthin turned to see Bolren's twinkling eyes light up in the face of King Boelryn. As one figurehead of royalty knelt before another, Ronthin stood back, almost feeling unworthy of being in their presence. "Your Majesty, King Bolren, we need to get you to Stronghold as soon as possible," Boelryn ordered. "My people, my home," Bolren weakly replied. "What's done is done, there's little we can do here now. Take a seed pod, we're going to get you out of here." "My forehead-" "Not in the best of conditions, but I'm sure we can tend to that in good time." "You called?" Paula asked as she hurried over, Veedi in pursuit. "Father is nowhere to be seen," Veedi uttered, out of breath. "He knows what he's doing, he'll use his seed pod in good time," Paula responded to Veedi. "Veedi, Paula, meet his Majesty King Bolren, a very close friend," Boelryn announced. Bolren just about managed to muster the energy to smile at the two ladies, but it was clear the pleasantries would need to wait until he had been properly tended to. "On the count of three we are all going to use our pods and return home, understood?" Boelryn asked. Everybody nodded or acknowledged this order, although Veedi still scanned her surroundings for signs of her father. Knowing they had to leave though, she reluctantly prepared to depart. "One, two, three-" On Boelryn's utterance of the third number, the group teleported away, leaving the sound of ancient magic to ring out through the Village. On the fields surrounding the Village, Arthur wanded alone, crossing the grassy plains as he had done so aimlessly for the last few hours. Delving into his pockets again, he retrieved a dozen or so seed pods to return to the Stronghold and a scrunched up note. "I'm sure I've got this right," Arthur grumbled to himself, unscrunching the paper. Looking upon it again as he had been doing so all day, he read: For the attention of Mr. A and Mr. S Limstrood; if this offer is in fact "one which we cannot refuse", meet us on the outskirts of the Khazardian Battlefield, for we shall not be seen talking to gnomes. Be sure to be on time, we do not accept mistakes or time wasters, particularly gnomic ones. Below this was a scribbled signature as well as a date and time. The Clock Tower south of Ardougne was still audible, and as it chimed a total of six times, the sound echoed over the landscape, and marked the time; the exact time outlined in the note. "Ah, I see my journey wasn't a waste of time after all," Arthur grinned, as a band of humans appeared on the horizon wielding weaponry, and wearing distinctly Khazardian armour damaged from their never-ending conflict against gnomekind...
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