Thanks for this prompt. I took the suggestion of a special meal/take them somewhere as inspiration for a story after reading this post. It made me think of a Gnome warrior I had, who I never really gave much backstory to. So this will be about him.
Arlas Tidyfuse found himself perplexed. He blinked a few times, consumed with a green hue that invaded the air. Beneath his crimson red mechnostrider, he spotted a tattered cobblestone road. Several stones found themselves whipped and tossed in various directions only to land randomly on the dying grass on his sides. Arlas leaned over and flipped open a knapsack he kept attached to his mount.
As his fingers explored the contents of the bag, his mechnostrider shook. Boom! Arlas felt a jolt spike through his veins as his mechnostrider backfired. He wobbled about and gravity tugged him down. His shoulder absorbed most of the impact. Stings shot through him, ones he tried not to focus on. Instead, his eyes again settled on the knapsack. Arlas reached around and pressed a small black button on the right leg of the mechanical beast. Within seconds, the legs lowered. Arlas smiled as he again explored his bag.
Gadgets and gizmos, papers and notes, anything he deemed necessary for the day found itself inside this bag. Arlas ran his fingers through his lengthy snow colored beard. Curiosity, a sickness that infected the gnome occasionally, had again taken over. Arlas now leaned over the bag. Again he searched and pushed and tossed things to the side as he dug deeper and deeper. Finally, he settled on a rolled up slip of paper.
Arlas stretched his arms out, unwound the paper, and marveled at his work. His eyes noted the title. ANALYTICAL-DISCOMBOBULATOR-#857. Others might be shocked at the number, though Gnomes knew, the higher number the attempt, the closer to success. Though… success seemed distant. Not that it mattered to Arlas. He folded the paper, settled it in between his arms and journeyed into the sea of grass.
Tirisfal hadn’t changed too much. The trees still expressed the same sickness Arlas encountered on his very first venture. Patches of dead grass greeted him every few steps. Creatures hidden in the green hue eagerly eyed him in hopes of a meal. Though, Arlas never imagined he’d taste well. Maybe he would. Arlas paused. That could be a future experiment.
A hundred feet in front of him, Arlas spotted the blanket. Perched in the grass, away from the road and the surrounding trees, settled on a hill that kissed Brightwater lake. After a few seconds, Arlas paused just before he set foot on the tattered purple gnomish blanket. Beside him, on his left, Arlas’s eyes settled on her.
She sat straight. Her eyes, from what Arlas could see, stayed focus on the various dishes that she had set out across the blanket. Boar meat, green vegetables and too his surprise, a pie. Arlas scanned over her green skin, mangled hair, all in hopes she’d note his presence. Seconds passed them. No words spoken between them. Arlas leaned back, placed his hands on the blanket and settled a few feet from the other gnome.
“You’re late.” A high pitch voice scolded him.
“No, no Gibby.” Arlas began. “I was late last time. This time I adjusted the route. After running the numbers, I can confidently say I saved.”
Arlas paused.
Gibby turned to face him. Her yellow eyes captured his attention and held onto his tongue. She leaned forward toward Arlas. He felt air trap itself in his throat. Any and every effort to speak failed. His lips opened, just for a second, but nothing. Gibby shut her eyelids. Her head shook for a moment. Arlas sensed the disapproval.
“I think I’ve done it this time.” Arlas broke the silence.
“Oh?” Gibby asked. She leaned forward and grabbed the pie she had prepared. Arlas noted the darkness of the crust. History suggested a high probability of the pie being burned. “What number are you on now?”
A smile raced across Arlas’s lips. He pulled the paper from under his arms and spread it across the blanket. Gibby, now with the pie settled on her lap, glanced over. Every few seconds her eyes would rotate from Arlas to the blueprint. After a few seconds, she settled on Arlas.
“Won’t work.”
Arlas blinked. Then again. His lips opened, but nothing came out. He glanced back down at the blueprint. It… it worked. He knew that for sure. Sure, he hadn’t built the machine, but it would work.
“Explain?” Arlas asked.
“Because Arlas, what you’re trying to do can’t be done.” She leaned over and pushed the pie toward him. “Now eat.”
Arlas fell backwards. He blinked and then settled his eyes on Gibby. His hands retreated into a small bag that wrapped around his waist. After a few seconds, his fingers tapped against metal. He gripped onto a device and pulled it out. In his hand was the Radiator Detector 4000. A handy device when dealing with Gnomes who still showed signs of radiation, especially things they touched. Arlas’s eyes settled on the pie.
“You’re too cautious, Arlas. Ever since the Undercity fell and some of us moved to Silvermoon, no one complains about my cooking besides you.”
“Because you’ve surrounded yourself with fools Giddy. Absolutely under prepared fools.”
Gibby’s eyes widened. She placed the pie off to the side on the other side of the blanket. Arlas narrowed his brows as Gibby leaned toward him. She crawled toward him. Each hand forward by her made Arlas move back. Then he met the edge of the blanket. Grass tapped against his palm. He tried to keep his balance, but he fell onto the blanket. Gibby continued toward where he now laid.
Heavy breaths escaped Arlas’s lips. He held up the Radiator Detector 4000 and aimed it at Gibby. A green light flashed across the device. Arlas’s eyes focused on the blinking light. Gibby pushed the device away and leaned over Arlas’s body.
“You’re infected.”
“Astute observation genius,” Gibby said. She leaned down toward Arlas. “Remember what we did before the accident?” She whispered.
“Don’t,” Arlas’s voice cracked.
“I’ve touched other Gnomish prisoners in the Undercity Arlas. It doesn’t work like that.” Gibby said.
She leaned in lower.
“Anomalies!” Arlas shouted.
“Perhaps,” Gibby whispered.
Arlas felt her breaths tap against his cheeks. His beard shook as did his entire body with a cocktail of fear and excitement. Breath after breath escaped his lips. He couldn’t hope to control the pace of his heart. Then his heart stopped. Something soft pressed against his skin. He tried to shut his eyes further, but they were at their limit. Again, something pressed against his skin. Gibby’s breaths abandoned his cheeks, and he felt them tickle his right ear.
“Gibby, this is dangerous.”
Arlas opened his eyes. Above him, he saw Gibby. Though her face had been different. In his mind he knew she wasn’t cured of her ailment. This version of Gibby, the version he remembered before the accident, didn’t exist anymore. Soft blue eyes and rosy cheeks for the girl who insisted on challenging and defeating him at any mechanical feat he attempted. Gibby leaned into him again.
“Should I stop Arlas?”
Arlas held his tongue. Again his eyes closed. The fear that existed before had vanished and his heartbeat returned to a satisfying pace. Unexpectedly Arlas shook, again he felt something soft press against him. This time on his nose.