found in most Gnome Stories, but rather two, a doubleton
of strangers, a windfall in terms of Gnome Stories. These
strangers had two things in common: they were from
outside this village of gnomes – yes, that’s true – but more
important, they were first found sprawled in awkward but
comfortable-looking positions on the ground, next to a
large, formerly leather-winged form. Said form had earlier
been a dragon, but was now little more than an open buffet
for the local scavengers.
The outsiders were both alive, however. One was a
warrior wrapped head to toe in dark armor, while the other
was softer, plumper, unarmored, dressed in tattered finery
and bound firmly at the wrists and ankles. The warrior was
a woman, though this was not immediately apparent from
her armor; the one in ragged finery was a man. For
gnomes, gender is as unimportant as eye color or taste in
music, but since these are HUMAN outsiders, it will
become important. More on that later, because the gnome
had finally arrived on the scene to survey the damage. And
this is a Gnome Story.
It was a gnome named Kalifirkinshibirin who
discovered the comfortably sprawled outsiders outside (of
course) his village. Kalifirkinshibirin (or Kali, shortening
further a name already truncated due to space) was a
smallish gnome, whose hobbies included spoon-collecting
and putting dried flowers under glass. He also had what
passed for healing skill, being versed in some natural
poultices and potions that had the unique advantage
(among gnomes) of not killing his patients outright.
Kali was gathering ingredients for said potions and
poultices in that particular field on that particular morning,
and so, it fell to him to discover those particular remains
of that particular dragon, and the outsiders resting
comfortably nearby. He was definitely not in the field
because he was looking for new discoveries to be made,
new revelations to be revealed, or new objects to muck
about with. Kali was, to put it delicately, different from his
fellows.
No, better to strip away the kindness of language and
face this straight out. Kali was a queer duck among his
people. Most gnomes live to invent. They have fives, even
tens of projects in the works at the same time, one often
spilling into another at random. Gnomes see the world as
inherently wrong (not an unpopular sentiment), but
gnomes differ from the rest of the universe in that they
believe it is their job to set matters right. That’s why they
invent – continually, relentlessly, and explosively – all
manner of gimcracks and snapperdoodles and
thingamabobs. It’s the thing that gnomes just naturally do,
like breathing or taking tea.
But Kali didn’t have that same sort of drive as his
fellows. He was pretty content in doing what he was doing
with potions and plants and poultices to relieve the
occasional outbreak of flu or bad colds. He had his
spoons/of course;
inscribed with wildflowers, legendary heroes, and
mythical animals (which was how he recognized the
dragon, by the by), but none of them were mechanical in
the least. He kept plans for a solar-powered lighthouse
about his parlor – for appearances – but he hadn’t added to
them in years.
In short, Kali was an underachiever. (This was not a
criminal offense to Kali’s fellow gnomes – they tended to
be understanding about it. Indeed, the fact that Kali’s
healing methods would not vary from week to week did
something for his reputation as a healer).
In any event, it was Kali who found the outsiders. He
determined they were within the bounds of “still
breathing,” and dragged the armored and unarmored forms
back to his house in the village. (This is important, for it
would make these outsiders – by custom – Kali’s salvage
and Kali’s responsibility.) By the time he brought the
second one (the unarmored, plumper, male one) back, a
small crowd of his fellow gnomes had gathered about his
front porch. They were armed with all manner of fearful-
looking devices, and a sharp gleam shone in each and
every eye.
To an outsider (particularly a human outsider), these
gnomes would appear to be a horde of evil torturers