The gnome

Poxig wandered over to the tree root where he assumed the gnome lived. It was a short walk, but a long thought process. What if the gnome could not help him? What if he were stranded in the Gorgola woods? He would have to find some other means of finding comestibles.

He called to the tree, where he was expecting the gnome sage to live. “Binural?” he asked over and over. Still, there was no response. Now, he was beginning to think that Meerschaum had deceived him. Just when he was about to give up, he heard a gnomish voice.

“Hiyo there!” said a minuscule voice. “Hiyo!”

Poxig heard the voice but couldn’t tell where it was coming from. “Where are you?”

Poxig heard a buzzing sound and looked overhead. There was a gnome riding on a hummingbird’s back. “Where be ye from, wayfaring stranger? I am Binural.”

Poxig saw that there was a glyph on the tree. “Is this your name?” he said,¬† pointing to the glyph.

The buzzing of the hummingbird’s wings came to a halt. In fact, he wasn’t sure if the gnome was nearby.

“Ye elf, ye are in the wrong way. Vendigo lives around here after dark. You are looking through the dark glass with Eber.”

Poxig scratched his head. He knew about Wendigo, but he couldn’t tell who Eber was or what this tiny talk-a-lot was doing. All he knew is that the gnome was trying to warn him of the werewolf.

“I am Poxig of Excelsior. Please kindly tell me, Sir Binural, where the road is that leads to Marginalia?”

Binural huffed and stammered. He couldn’t be coaxed to give a clear sentence. “First, find you the Naughright. See Eber through the dark glass. He will send you a missive.”


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