Darhthmec, a gnome with no home

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Darhthmec, a gnome with no home

Post by Duck One »

A pale deep gnome, somewhat uncommon to Silverymoon, made a bit of a stir at the Bright Blade Brandished. After sitting alone and quietly drinking a considerable amount, he bought the entire house assembled a drink, then stood upon a stool and spoke up.

“My good patrons of this tavern, I have ordered you those drinks so that you might indulge me in a toast. Before I offer it, please hear me. As a young refugee of Blindgestone living on the streets of Citadel Felbarr, I stayed alive as a thief and scofflaw. I have no doubt I would be in prison or worse had I not chosen to try to pick the wrong purse. But the dwarf who caught me saw something in me that I had not seen myself, and took me in instead of having me arrested for my crime.

“This mage, maker of potions, instead offered me a job as a student of his, learning both his craft of potions as well as the trading of materials to make them. I had many good years of learning and earning a good way of life, and I made a dear…,” the man fights back a bit of emotion before resuming “friend.”

“Fate is not always that kind however, as a band of orcs attacked our caravan. My master saved me once more with his magic, sending me away while he tried to fight for the caravan. I am not worthy of being saved once, let alone twice, but here I stand before you. I owe it to him to become something more than the thief he discovered, and so I shall, or die trying.

“So please take a moment and join me in raising a toast to my fallen master, Rorey Track-Silver.” The speech must have held enough sincerity so as to elicit the entire tavern to raise their mugs. The gnome nodded his thanks, downed his own tankard, and quietly slipped out the door with no further fanfare.
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Re: Darhthmec, a gnome with no home

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Still a bit hung over from a lively evening at the Bright Blade the night before, Darhthmec sat on the floor of the library of the Lady’s College. He was feeding an odd creature, a bookwyrm, a tiny variety of dragon known to eat papers, books, and other things with writing upon them. As he tore bits from a piece of paper, he talked to the wyrm in a subdued tone as though it might sympathize with him.

“A better way to learn, is it?” The rhetorical question did not draw any measurable response from the creature who focused only upon the steady treats it was being fed. “Simply eat the words and the knowledge seeps into your veins. I must confess jealousy of you.” He continued to tear bits off to the delight of the little creature.

“I am not sure you’ll learn anything but failure from these particular words, though. This was my application to this institution…my chance to honor my master’s wish that I learn his craft. Alas it is nothing more but a snack for you now.” He tears a larger section off and holds it up.

“You see these hand written words in another ink here? They say ‘denied’.” He wads it up and gives it to the wyrm. “Apparently you have to know magic before you can begin to learn magic…at least this is the twisted logic of admissions policy here.” He tosses the rest of the papers to the wyrm in disgust.

“Enjoy it, my friend. At least one of us should get something of benefit from it. Perhaps you can learn something more than I did. I have failed as a thief, failed as a trader, and now failed to become a student. Perhaps I should open my own school to teach the finer points of failure. It is the only thing I have mastered after all.”
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Re: Darhthmec, a gnome with no home

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Darhthmec sits alone on the hill near the Lady’s College in Silverymoon looking down upon the river. He speaks as though it is a dialogue, gesturing and directing his attention as though someone was right next to him, yet nobody is there. The city’s mythals prevent invisibility, so either the gnome speaks to a ghost or perhaps is losing his sanity, but the tone is calm and solemn.

“I felt I should tell you, I have found a new teacher.” He pauses a bit before he resumes, “No it is not the instructors at the college, but someone who sees the potential in me as you did. A lady hin named Bellie has seen fit to resume where you left off. I guess she sees something in me like you did.” He chuckles, “…and she barks and scolds me much like you did. Perhaps it is no better than I deserve.

“No sooner had she agreed to take me on, then I almost get us in a bar fight with 3 dwarves. In some ways they reminded me of you, so I briefly entertained the idea that you had directed them there to show your anger at being replaced. But they were nothing really like you at all. They smelled of body odor and horse dung, and were slow-witted and crass. And of course upon further consideration, I knew you were actually pleased that I was working to honor your wish for me.”

With a grin, “Alas I did not dispense with them in your way; I did it with mine. A few quick retorts and mild display of my power, and they were staggering off without a fight.” Again a quiet moment passes and then, “…and I did manage to resist the urge to taunt them from the shadows as they retreated. The disapproving glare from Bellie told me that I had walked all the way up to the line without crossing it, so I did not go further.”

A longer pause seemed to indicate some level of introspection, “In the final analysis, I am glad that it went no further. I still feel terrible guilt for what happened to you. Afterall, I was the scout. Yes the orcs attacked from the rear, but I should have seen it nonetheless. I know you used your magic and sent me away, and I obeyed, but I still feel cowardly for doing so. I do not think I could bear to be responsible for harm to come to another teacher.

“And that is what I shall call her, ‘teacher.’ Not ‘master.’ No disrespect to her, but she succeeds you but does not replace you.” A glance to the sky and a listen to the leaves rustling in the breeze, the gnome seems to give an affirming nod before picking himself up and returning into the college.
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Re: Darhthmec, a gnome with no home

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Darhthmec sits in plain clothes next to his leather armor drying in the sun on the riverbank near the Rauvin, petting a cat and feeding it bits of fish. Moments earlier has we washing the armor in the river, removing the blood of goblinkin, orcs, wolves, and a bit of that from his comrades and himself; echoes from a crusade through the mountains to liberate Fourthpeak and root out the goblins plaguing the passes. To pass the time while the sun works to dry the leather, he decides to pen a letter to his teacher, Bellie.

Dear Miss Bellie,

I know your business of opening your store has kept you away from the University, so I thought a note might be the best way to update you. I have been spending a lot of time in Rivermoot, helping the local marshal deal with problems around the hamlet, and making new contacts for my own business. The demand upon my time has been great, so unfortunately my studies aren’t advancing as quickly as you might hope. However there is also some good news to go along with it.

Firstly, I have been saving my coins. I have squirreled away a tidy sum to be ready to pay for tuition and supplies for when I am able to enroll. There have been a lot of problems out here, and the local Argent Legion post has been hiring and paying handsome bounties to deal with a rather bothersome goblin infestation. I also have found some items of value in my adventures and salvaged their value. As such, I am at least financially prepared to begin my studies.

Secondly, my contacts and influence grows. I have been accepted as a trusted agent of the Argent Legion, and I now organize irregular mercenary bands on their behalf. I also am quite trusted by the town marshall. But most importantly I have made a group of allies who trust me in the field. When we enter hostile territory, it is I that they ask to scout ahead and clear the traps from the road, and point out the dangers around the next corner.

Lastly, but most importantly, I have made some progress for you….important progress. In the few quiet moments between battles, I have found a few chances to try my hand at casting spells. The notes you gave me were helpful, and I have learned to use the foci and materials, but it wasn’t easy. However, I have had some limited success, and now have begun to get a certain level of familiarity with some of the spells. Indeed, I think I am ready to face the registrar and gain my admittance. Though I may not be yet ready for the spellguard, I at least have enough skill to call myself a novice mage.

I thought you’d be excited to hear that. My travels likely next take me to Felbarr. Clearly I need new armor, and the dwarves make the best. I have also taken in a cat I found near the river. He follows me everywhere, so I think I shall name him for my old master. It feels good to say the name again. Who knows, maybe his spirit is with him. I don’t know where my adventures with the scholars on the Dean’s quest will take me from there, but I will try to keep getting word to you. I hope this note finds you well and keeps you so until our paths cross again.

With all sincerity,

Darhthmec


Picking himself up, he fastens the armor up and scoops the cat, boarding the ferry back to Silverymoon.
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Re: Darhthmec, a gnome with no home

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Darhthmec stands atop the hill that leads to the Lady’s College admiring the way the setting sun’s red hues interact with the Moonbridge and Rauvin below it. He surveys and listens to the wind rustle the leaves, letting the fragrances of autumn fill his nose. The stimulus prompts a subtle smile across his face, which in turn stirs the cat Rorey at his feet to beg for attention with a plaintive call. The gnome kneels to pet the cat and offer some comments.

“Yes, my friend, I think we should stay here for the time being. I am indeed curious about the scheme to perform the ritual by this rogue mage, and would like to find the foal to know he is well, but those answers are not coming. I need to focus on my studies. I must honor my former master, and respect what Bellie is doing for me. “ A look from the cat with a mixture of curiosity and support prompts a bit more.

“Perhaps when I have studied more, and understand a bit more of the politics of this fair city, I will be better equipped to be engaged in these grand adventures. Until then, I shall put my energy into learning this craft.” He scoops up the cat and heads into the university, pausing for a moment to look up at the clouds before crossing the threshold.
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Re: Darhthmec, a gnome with no home

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As Dahrthmec turns the final corner and sees the entrance to the cave, he becomes awash in light and pauses to take it in. How long had he been under ground? The passage of time is marked in days with the rising and falling of the sun, in months with the cycles of the moon, and with seasons with the change in climate. But there is no sun, nor moon, nor seasons in the Underdark, and time seems to stand still. Stepping from that dark and timeless realm onto the surface will require acclimating his mind again. He draws a deep breath and lets it go with a long sigh, then ascends the last part of the cave passage to exit.

He turns to Hrug and says, “So different up here. The smells, the sights, the wide open expanses. Liberating and a bit alarming all at once, no?” He pauses at the question as though the cat might answer, and though the cat does attend to each word, only a curious stare is offered in response. “I think you prefer it up here.” He chuckles as he adds, “No doubt you’ll prefer the fresh fish we can get up here.”

Though it is night, the moon and starlight is intensely bright compared to the Underdark. The pair pause to let their eyes adjust, and the gnome scans the horizon to get his bearings. Catching sight of the road, he looks skyward to the clouds and stars. “Do not ask me how I am certain of it, but I know he’s out there.” Running his fingers along the long feather in his hand, he reflexively pats his hip pouch to feel the contents. “Apples are indeed rare and expensive down there, but I wanted to be ready just in case we should see him.”

Putting the feather away, he finds the path leading to the highway. “Not even a full day’s walk from the intersection. We should make old Silvy by morning I should think." His tone lowers a bit to be a bit more sad and somber, “Though I do not make many promises, what few I do, I plan to keep.”
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Re: Darhthmec, a gnome with no home

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On a mild spring afternoon, Dahrthmec sits on the hill outside the Lady’s College next to Hrug with a massive scroll unfurled in his lap. Upon the scroll various drawings and notations form a map of the Silver Marches. The gnome squints and puzzles at it, and from time to time picks up one of the many quills next to him to add a bit to it; a bit of detail here and a touch-up there. With a sigh and a shift in body language, he reveals a small smile of satisfaction as he leans to the cat to offer some thoughts.

“I have nearly completed it. You know that I started this because I got lost up here, but it became more than that. As I showed it to other people, I saw the value of it in their eyes, and so it became a quest of its own. If Master Rory taught me anything, it was to see the opportunities that come our way and take advantage. I now know this has value, and….I am proud of it.”

Hrug slides up along side Dahrthmec and surveys the map, glancing back to the gnome. In the cat’s eyes and expression, there is an understanding and a bond. The novice mage can sense the feline’s emotions: pride, admiration, and affection. Without so much as a word from the cat, there is a clear understanding.

“I’ve given it a bit of thought. Imagine, one day I will no longer be in this realm, this plane. But this map may. It may become my legacy. Who knows, decades from now there may still be copies of this around, and someone may wonder who I was and what motivated me to explore things so carefully and document them.” His smile fades a bit as he pans his focus from the map to the cat.

“Hold on a moment. What about your legacy? You are very much a part of this. I know.” With that, he picks up his charcoals, and begins to sketch the cat in a corner of the scroll that has no map details. He draws the feline up in the mountains around Fourthpeak, then adds a script with the name of the cat. The cat watches patiently as the drawing is completed, then without prompting puts his paw in the dark ink tray and applies his own signature to the artwork. The gnome chuckles, “Now all we need to do is figure out how to make copies of this, and we will become immortal.”
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Re: Darhthmec, a gnome with no home

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As he crests the summit, the chill coming through the gnome’s boots was on the edge of pain. He chest was heaving to get air thin of oxygen at those altitudes. Clouds of steamy breath shoot out from behind his mask, but then he catches glimpse of the view, all but taking his breath away. You can see all the Marches from up there…the winding river cutting through the valleys, the Rauvin mountains jutting into the horizon to the east, and the glow of the mythals of Silverymoon to the Southwest. Words failed him as he composed himself. After a moment, he gathers his wits about him.

“Thank you for bringing me up here. With the creatures in these mountains and how easily one could get lost, it would have been foolish to try.” As the knight acknowledges his words, Dahrthmec sketches and notates on his map. “Between you and Zova, I’ve had guides to take me to all the hidden corners of the Marches. I have a grand idea.” He takes another unused corner of the map, and with his charcoal sketches a likeness of Alyra standing next to him with the peaks of the Nether Mountains as a backdrop.

She peeks in as he works, nodding in approval. “Here, now you must sign it.” And he hands her a quill. With a flourish, she puts her signature in the snowy foreground of the sketch. “And now you too are immortal for as long as this map lives.”

With a smile she replies, “I like that thought. I never thought I’d live forever.” The two turn back down the mountain, then eventually through the pass back west to Silverymoon. As the pair arrives, the caravan master is barking as a wagon driver to keep it moving. The knight captain asks a gate guard what all the commotion is.

“The circus is leaving.” The two look at one another, then the wagon headed over the horizon to the east. Then with a sigh, he pulls out the scroll with the map. He finds a small brush and opens a vial of white paint, then paints over the portion of the map where the circus had been noted.

He shakes his head and mutters, “It may never be done.”
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