A Short Fall of Gravitas

[Jim Roberts]

[Feb 7 -- Ft. Resolute]

> While the two women talked (and Tramma schemed), all the usual delays
> associated with a sudden but vital trip into the field by the lord of
> the Fort were playing out as expected. With perhaps a little help here
> and there as requested by a certain meddling if good-hearted Tramp on
> a mission that had been thrown off her hoped-for schedule by the three
> wizards’ extended visit.

As it turned out, though, one source of delay had its origin from an
entirely unexpected quarter. When the wizarding couple returned back to
the conference room, it was apparent that the leaders of Fort Resolute
had reconvened a meeting with Abbot Kenobi. The Abbot was sitting
quietly writing something with an odd but thoughtful expression on his
face. And just why Finfin had been summoned became immediately apparent.

Lacking Tramma’s diplomatic skills, when the wizards settled back into
their places at the conference table, Sister Erin referred to her notes
and asked, “Sully? Or Yuki, if ye prefer? Could ye tell our two wizards
what ye’d just told Lord Erik and Abbot Kenobi?”

“Sure,” the tall woman who some knew to be (apparently, despite her
youthful appearance) a remarkably senior Flying Tiger replied easily.
Lounging back in her chair, rather than explain, the weretigress asked a
question of her own. “Do either of you know a gnome named Kal?”

Both wizards looked blankly at each other, and Sully prompted, “Nasty,
brutish, and short? About, say, yay high,” she paused, holding out a
hand approximately gnome-high, “with a chip on his shoulder that would
outreach Tregarth?”

The two wizards continued to look mystified.

“A gnome that arrived a few days ago in the company of the dwarf known
as Trast,” Fort Resolute’s Seneschal explained. The latter was a name
that Finfin did know, though not terribly well. Seeing the recognition
in Finfin’s eyes, Tregarth continued, “Yuki’s description of Kal is, I’m
afraid to say, remarkably accurate. There is no malice in the fellow, or
else we would have had… shall we say, words. But he was a rather
disagreeable fellow.”

Sully, or Yuki as the locals had known her for a considerable while,
nodded. “So I thought I’d help our cute knights out with maintaining the
local peace, and I just oh-so-accidentally happened to have mentioned
that there just might be some Green Death kobolds out in the middle of
the Forest that really needed killing.” She shrugged, and added, “I’d
heard somewhere that gnomes have a… thing for kobolds, and it turned
out, I was right.”

Finfin grimaced. “So this Kal agreed to head off towards the Briarpatch
in an effort to hunt down the Green Death kobolds.”

Sully/Yuki stretched indolently. “I’m not sure I’d say he agreed to it.
Not as such. More like, he started jumping up and down, yelling, ‘kill.
Kill. KILL!’ And yeah, I kinda joined in to inspire him, so for a little
while we were BOTH jumping up and down yelling ‘KILL!’ Good harmless
fun, it seemed at the time. And then the gnome looked for the world like
he was about to set out on a dead run all the way to the Briarpatch,
waving a big axe over his head while still yelling KILL for the whole trip.”

“A five day trip by horse,” Finfin clarified, sounding a bit relieved.

Sully shrugged. “Well, yeah. But as motivated as he was, I think he
would have got there in less time. But instead, I helped out.”

“Indeed?” the elf asked cautiously.

“Oh, yeah,” Sully agreed with obvious enthusiasm. “He’d just missed an
outgoing patrol of those nice Kamyran Rangers, outbound to the
Briarpatch. So I talked someone into helping his steed out with a
Traveller’s Mount, so he could catch up.”

Now it was Tregarth’s turn to add to the narrative. Only unlike Sully,
the huge Seneschal looked chagrined. “And following Sully’s advice, I
wrote the gnome a letter of introduction.”

Finfin nodded gravely. “I see. And just when is this patrol scheduled to
arrive at the Briarpatch?”

Again, the huge Seneschal looked uncomfortable. “Likely yesterday, give
or take.”

“Ah.” Finfin sighed. “So in the middle of what is likely to be a fraught
diplomatic negotiation, convincing the Forest People leadership of the
benefit of exchanging the Green Death with the Upwinders, we have a
potentially homicidal, or more accurately koboldicidal gnome, leaping
into the scene. Possibly axe first.”

“Hey, it seemed a really good idea at the time,” Sully insisted a little
defensively. “How was I s’pose ta know? I’m good, but I’m no prophet or
anything. I mean, the Green Death gotta go either way, right?”

Tregarth nodded. “In Sully’s defence, it really DID seem like a fine
idea at the time. As I understand it, the Flying Tigers are forbidden to
interfere directly with internal problems, like a kobold infestation
threatening only one tribe, so this presented a novel way to help our
Honeyskin allies in the vicinity of the Briarpatch.”

The Abbot still hadn’t spoken up, he was still writing, apparently
taking notes. He did seem to be listening intently, with that same
inscrutable expression of mild bemusement he’d worn since the two
wizards entered the room.

Consulting her notes, Sister Erin added, “And t’ try to head off… or at
least minimize any damage, Tramma did contact both Chief Caenry and
Laquendi t’ advise them of the complication.”

“So a mage with an indifferent attitude towards self preservation,”
Finfin mused, “along with a Vowsister, may be the only thing keeping
Beekin from being axe-murdered, should they encounter the Upwinder’s
envoy before we do?”

“Had we mentioned this Kal is a wereboar,” Sully asked brightly? “Not
that there’s anything wrong with being a wereboar, if you can’t be a
weretiger, obviously.”

She ignored the assortment of frowns and bemused looks and shaking
heads, and explained, “some Flying Tigers kinda, well, have acted kinda
superior and all to the poor l’il guy, if you can imagine that. He can’t
help it he’s ugly, brutish, short, and smells all piggy and all to our
keenly superior tiger senses. I mean, I WAS trying to help both him and
us and Tregarth. I kinda figured if he helped us out this way, and
Tregarth and I did him a solid to help him help us, it might encourage
my fellow feline wonders to be a bit nicer to him.”

This earned her another round of astonished looks. Nobody had the
slightest idea if she were as oblivious as she seemed, or if she was
pulling their legs. She DID seem honestly sympathetic to Kal’s plight,
in her own faintly condescending feline way.

“They might,” Finfin agreed. “Unless, of course, he single handedly axe
murders the only chance the Forest People have of securing a major
ally.” Quickly, he counted in his head. “Laquendi should have room for
one more passenger, in addition to Beekin and Vowsister Orah. I wonder
if it will occur to her to possibly bring along an extra bodyguard for
Beekin. Like, perhaps, Stern?”

“I guess you’ll all find out together,” Sully replied indolently. “Now,
me, I wouldn’t let Stern anywhere NEAR a situation like this. Too likely
to tickle his funny bone, and you KNOW the way HIS sense of humor runs.
Just sayin’.”

Sister Erin looked askance at the Flying Tiger Streak Lead, then sighed
and slowly nodded. “Weretigers are like that.” Sully had the grace to
look a little chagrined.

Almost unnoticed while the others spoke, Abbot Kenobi quietly folded two
sheets into thirds, slipped them into envelopes, and sealed them with
his personal signet ring. Finally Ben smiled faintly as he spoke and
said simply, “you may find these useful.” He handed one sealed envelope
to Erik without further explanation, and the other to Mithi. “Pass that
to Tramma, I should say,” the Abbot instructed. “She is, after all, the
diplomat.”

All that was written on the outside was, "Trouble with gnomes?” on one
side, and in large, friendly letters on the other side “For Emergency
Use Only". After only a glance, Erik inclined his head graciously and
carefully put the sealed instructions away in a belt pouch. Mithi tucked
the one intended for Tramma into one of her spellbooks for safekeeping.

Now Sister Erin shifted a quizzical gaze to the Abbot. She and everyone
else in the room got the distinct impression their liege lord knew
something about this whole thorny situation he had decided not to
immediately share with them. Presumably he had his reasons, but he had
them all intensely curious.

The Abbot just nodded pleasantly and made a shooing motion. "I am quite
sure you can all work this out peaceably, have fun up north."

And not long afterwards with a proper sendoff, Finfin, Mithi, Tramma,
Josie, as well as Lord Erik atop his steed Miracle, walked through the
Dimension Fold Tunnel that led them in an instant off to The Briarpatch.