Hodger stood on his toes as he
leaned forward to blow out the candle on his staff before walking into the
well-lit streets of Squaddlewog on Squaddlewog Street. Squaddlewog was a place
that even he, a tiny Gnome, could blend in. Or, at the very least, be ignored.
He wasn’t a real Gnome, of course, his father being Dwarfish and his mother
being elf descent. Their drunk one night stand left his mother pregnant and not
on speaking terms with his father, whom Hodger had never met. Hodger was
vertically challenged even by dwarf standards and hairy on spots where you
shouldn’t be. He had ears that were often past his bald head. The ears changed
length on a day to day basis.
Even with Gnomes being fictitious
as they were, people still believed in them, and often confused Hodger with
being one. The tales of these fictitious magical creatures would often end in
gold or cookies if they were caught. Those stories were wrong, of course, as
the original tales of gold and cookies were of leprechauns and not Gnomes.
The original stories of Gnomes were
often horrific. Normally ending in maiming or being devoured alive. It is
because of these original stories Hodger took a great amount of effort to grow
a beard, and then sewed together a hat that allowed his ears to grow and shrink
as they please, put a candle on top of a stick and called himself a Gnome.
People tended to stray away from
things that could hurt them, and fire was understood among the well-adjusted
people that it could hurt. For this reason, Hodger carried around his candlewax
staff with a wick on the end, learning how to quickly light it with a trick of
his hand. When approached for gold or cookies, he promised evil, fiery things
to those closest. When Hodger didn’t go through with his threats, however,
people started to ask questions, and Hodger always seemed to leave before those
questions could be fully answered. Some of those unanswered questions is what
drove Hodger to hide within Squaddlewog in the first place.
Squaddlewog was the biggest city on
the East side of the Giant River. Where it was built must have been an
afterthought of the forefathers, as the ground was harder than stone and made
it very difficult to dig into. And, as it is read often in the history of
Squaddlewog, that the architect who wanted to build the homes was outvoted, and
a law was passed that each citizen of Squaddlewog would need to build their
own. The first, built a simple home, and relaxed. The second, built his wide,
and then promptly made a fire with the remainder of his building material. The
architect, not wanting to be outdone, attempted to build a basement got heat
exhaustion, and died. Teaching Architecture became a crime after that. After
all, telling someone to murder themselves ought to be a crime.
The law of the forefathers caused
many beautiful and strange tourist spots within the city. The local watch maker
had built his shop so high that it became the town clock. One side of the tower
slumped, causing the minute hand of the clock to go slower between 7 and 9,
making those hours seventy-two minutes long each. However between the hours of
1 and 3, the hand would randomly stop and click forward after forty-two minutes
had passed, and people thought that was close enough. The watch maker had a
difficult time making wrist watches that clicked in such a way to follow the
town’s time and he eventually closed his shop beneath the clock tower.
The rest of the town was built the
same way. As more people moved to Squaddlewog, land was scarce among the
downtown district, so people built their own homes and built upward to have
more space. Most people’s living rooms were in their attic, basement on the
second floor, and each home had two to three levels worth of kitchen, depending
on how high they had built.
The city was full of all kinds of
people of races, shapes and colors. The streets were full of Men and Elf
through the day, and at night the streets were littered with Dwarf and Fairy.
There were a mix of other less friendly races throughout the city as well, but
through the years they tamed themselves into agreeing their bark (sometimes
literally) was more menacing than their bite. After all, how scary is a Zombie
if you think it is just another person handing you a flier?
Hodger adjusted his personal bag
and stepped into the bustling Dwarf booths of Squaddlewog Street and was
promptly ignored. He made his way through the market stalls, not paying much
mind to anything around him, looking for the sign that was always in a big
city. When he finally got to the crossroad of Squaddwog and Fergal, he found
the sign he was searching for, ‘All you can eat breakfast’. The Gnome quickly
stepped inside.
A wave of delicious smells hit the
Gnome’s small nose, though it was an unnaturally large for a Gnome his size. He
shivered and stood on his tip toes again, slowly walking toward the dining
area. He stopped following his nose as
his eyes quickly focused on something more peculiar. A large rabbit sat at the
front desk filing paperwork. She wore an apron and a little hat between her
long ears that stood straight up. He walked up to the front desk and was
ignored. He liked this place already. He stood there for some time to see if
anyone would give him any attention, but it wasn’t until he rang the bell did
the clerk even notice he had walked in. The rabbit looked around and then
peered over the desk to see Hodger counting his change.
“Welcome to Bunnies Inn. What do
you want?” The rabbit asked.
“A-a-a room please.” Hodger
replied, wiping his mouth clean of the extra saliva.
“How long? The long-eared desk
clerk asked.
“Full week, if you please.”
The rabbit tilted her head and
examined him for a moment. She sniffed the air and then leaned forward closer
and sniffed again.
“You a dwarf, or something else?”
Hodger adjusted his hat, “Gnome.”
He said. His voice cracked.
The rabbit stared for a bit longer
then shrugged. She prepped a room key as he placed a few copper pieces on the
desk. She handed the key to the Gnome and motioned for him to go upstairs. He
was about to comply when a young purple girl ran buy him, carrying several mugs
and something sizzling. He wiped his mouth clean again.
“A-A-All you can eat breakfast?” He
asked to no one in particular.
“Dwarf breakfast only has an hour
left. Follow Lucille.” The rabbit said to him.
Hodger hopped before walking
briskly into the dining room.
The dining room was large and was
lined with benches and tables. A large stone fireplace separated the kitchen
and cooks from the dining hall. There was a small hallway on the far end that
lead into the kitchen, and Hodger groaned as he watched the girl Lucille
disappear into the door. The rest of the room had a few guests spread among the
tables including several dwarfs, a cat, a large rooster with a stringed
instrument, and a chicken who was picking at a book.
Hodger decided to sit near the
chicken. It was close to the fire where he could be alone and warm his body up
after numerous nights of walking. He leaned his staff against the table,
putting himself between his candlewax staff and the fire to prevent any
unnecessary melting. He looked around the room, everyone happily ignoring him,
and the girl with the tray of goodies had yet to return.
He quietly kicked off each boot one
at a time, stretching his toes against the cold stone floor. As he looked down
to move his boots next to his staff, two lights shined down onto his feet.
Hodger looked toward the light and saw two large yellow eyes look at him and
blink. He panicked and lifted his arms as he yelped and fell backward.
Lucille grabbed him by the collar
and sat him back up.
“You’re not supposed to take off
your shoes, mister.” She said. Her eyes looking down at her pad of paper. The
paper lit up with her gaze.
“I-I I am so sorry, I’ll put them
back on.”
She lifted a pen to her mouth and
chewed on it, “It’s not a rule, per se, but this floor only gets cleaned once a
week. Keep’em off if you want, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya. Now what do ya
want to eat?”
Hodger took a breath and then
turned to the bright eyed girl, “Whatever you had on that tray would be nice.
And a couple of those mugs you had as well.”
“That’s some sizzling raccoon and
some Murky Water. Be right back!”
She closed her eyes and smiled.
Hodger couldn’t help but notice her fangs before she turned and bounced away.
It was then he realized what she had said, he turned in his seat to correct his
order.
“Don’t worry about it.” A voice
said behind him.
Hodger turned, but didn’t see
anyone paying him any attention. He went to turn back around when the voice
spoke to him again.
“Murky Water is just an ale,” the
accented voice spoke again, “It’s just a rather unfortunate name.”
Hodger looked again, above and
below the table, but couldn’t see anyone.
“My, my, you are a dolt.”
Hodger looked at the chicken, and
noticed the chicken turn the page of the book.
“What… What are you doing?”
The chicken didn’t look up from the
book but it replied, “I am reading. What does it look like I’m doing?”
Hodger scoffed, “I didn’t think
chickens could read. A-are you a chicken?”
The chicken looked up from the
book, “That’s a bit rude, isn’t it? Asking ‘What are you?’ as if you can’t tell
that I am damn well indeed a chicken.”
“But you sound like a –” Hodger
said.
Lucille walked through the kitchen
door again, the sound of the sizzling made Hodger forget his question of
unnecessary details and focused on his food. She set two mugs down first, then
the plate of the sizzling meat mixed with a variety of colored vegetables.
Hodger took the mug and started
chugging, only getting a small taste light ale poured into his system. He
immediately felt a light buzz as he looked down to his food. He grabbed his
fork and took a big piece and bit into it.
“I’d be careful,” said Lucille.
Hodger chewed his food and watched
Lucille sit across from him. She grabbed the second mug and took a sip before
placing it in front of her.
“The sizzling raccoon is spicy.”
She finished, taking another drink.
The gnome started to feel the heat
of the food as he swallowed his bite. He looked at his empty mug he had just
chugged and then over to the second one, which Lucille has now claimed for
herself. He hadn’t expected to be sharing. He stuffed a few vegetables in his
mouth and chewed. After sweat had appeared on Hodger’s face, she poured some of
her ale into his mug, which he drank immediately.
“So what are ya?” She asked after
his second bite.
“Excuse me? Hodger said. He
squinted as the light of her eyes roamed around him.
“I asked, what are ya? You a Dwarf?
You don’t quite look like a Dwarf.” She said, her eyes squinting at him, “You
don’t quite look like anything I seen ‘fore.”
Hodger looked over at the chicken,
“My friend here thinks it’s rude to ask what you are. Don’t you chicken?”
The chicken said nothing, but
Hodger could almost see a smirk within the beak.
“I am Hodger.” Hodger answered, “A
powerful magically inclined Gnome.”
“Neat!” Lucille bounced in her
chair.
“He’s lying.” The chicken said.
“And how would you know? Have you ever met a Gnome before?” Hodger said.
“No,” The chicken answered, closing
his finished book, “but I’ve read about Gnomes. They are fictitious creatures.”
“He can’t be that fictitious, he’s
sitting right here,” The purple girl responded.
“That’s right!” Hodger said. The
sweat on his brow dripped, he wiped it with his hat and placed it back on his
head.
The chicken looked at the girl, and
then back at the Gnome, “Even if you were a fictitious creature from Fairy
Tales, you aren’t magical. Gnomes are never magical in the stories.”
“What a studious little chicken.”
Hodger said, “I have a staff.”
“Yeah, he’s got a staff!” Lucille
said.
“What does that have to do with
anything?” The chicken said.
“Staffs are magical.” Lucille said,
nodding triumphantly.
“Staffs have nothing to do with
magic.” The chicken replied, “Not directly anyway. I would know.”
“And how would you know?” Hodger
asked.
“I am magical.” The chicken said.
“How so?” Lucille asked, her
shining eyes forcing the chicken to squint.
“I am a talking chicken.” He said.
“Since when has talking been
magical?” Lucille asked, “Seems to me that is just something people do.”
“But I’m a chicken. Normal chickens can’t learn to talk.”
“Now that’s just a rude thing to
say about chickens. I’m sure they all could if they tried.”
The chicken rolled his eyes, “Just
like this ‘Gnome’ can learn magic?”
Lucille nodded, failing to hear the
sarcasm.
Hodger finished his meal and
quickly stood, excusing himself and grabbing his room key from his pocket. Just
as he was about to exit the dining hall, Lucille grabbed his sleeve and turned
him around, putting the chicken in his arms, “Don’t forget your studios
chicken, what would you do without him?”
She smiled again, unintentionally
revealing her fangs. Those, with her bright yellow eyes, caused a shiver of
fear to go through Hodger, “Th-th-thanks, but…”
The chicken plucked the key from
Hodger’s hand and walked toward the stairs, “Room 27.”
Hodger turned back to the smiling
Lucille and gave a nervous smile back before following his new roommate up the
stairs.
