I stood there, rooted to the spot, trying to reconcile the tiny figure peeking out from behind Lotha Bluetusk with the persona I knew so well from our online adventures. Scruffy no, Taimi Quickwit looked just as small and delicate as a halfling ought to, but there was something undeniably extraordinary about her. Her bright green hair was tucked into several messy braids, each one threaded with copper wiring that glinted under the overhead lights. Faint gears and intricate tattoos spiraled along her forearms, faintly humming with the kind of mechanical magic only the greatest Gnomish tinkerers could wield.

She rubbed her neck and cleared her throat, nervous energy all but crackling in the space around her. "Hello," she waved with a half-hearted chuckle, flashing me an apologetic look.

"Scruffy...or should I call you Taimi?" I repeated, more slowly this time, letting my gaze slide over the intricate clockwork tattoos spiraling up her forearms. My attention flicked to her wrist, where a specialized Link was strapped tight, then back to her face.

"If I can call you John," she said with a tremor of nervous excitement. Her lips curved into a shy grin as she spoke, as though the word John was an unfamiliar delicacy on her tongue.

I couldn't help but crack a small smile of my own. "Seems fair, considering you just pulled me out of the fire again." A spark of pride lit her eyes at the praise, and she all but preened beneath it.

"Okay, John," she repeated, drawing the syllables out in a delighted voice.

Mabbs, the mousekin, twitched her whiskers in confusion. "Wait, you're Wick? From the Rakishness Tea Party? But I thought you were a woman."

Taimi gave a little shrug. "John uses a voice modulator when we're on chat—that's why you probably didn't recognize him, Mabbs."

I held up a hand in a placating gesture. "I'd appreciate it if you kept that under wraps. Besides Taimi, only two other people in the guild know. It's safer that way." Both were men as well, one using the same trick, the other playing openly alongside his wives and children.

Being a man in the online gaming world wasn't exactly a recipe for calm. You will never find a more wretched hive of thirst and desperation than online gamers. You must be cautious, and I'd learned early on how quickly things could spiral out of control if the wrong people found out.

"Though…" I turned my attention back to Mabbs, "how do you know my in-game handle?"

Before she could answer, Taimi blurted, "She's SchlongLover88."

Mabbs's mousey ears flattened, and her face went beet-red.

"Sorry," I replied. "I didn't recognize your voice. You've been offline for a while."

"Got Promoted," she added awkwardly, darting a glance toward Lotha, who stood nearby like a granite statue. For hers, sins undoubtedly.

"Yeah, John, remember my friend, SkullsTaker?" Taimi chimed in brightly, nodding toward the imposing orc.

I did remember. Those chaotic gaming sessions with someone so hilariously inept it was almost endearing. "Yeah. Those were...fun." A grin tugged at my lips. "Guess we were friends already and just never knew it."

Lotha's flush was unmistakable, her cheeks darkening against her green complexion. Her eyes shone with an unexpected sweetness, as though this realization had broken through that hardened warrior shell. She blinked rapidly, on the verge of tears, and it struck me that even the fiercest fighters could have hearts as soft as any gentle soul.

"I guess that explains why the Commandant herself came to rescue me," I muttered, lowering myself so I could meet the halfling's eyes. At three foot eight, she was tall for her kin, but compared to most other Kindred, she still had to crane her neck to hold my gaze.

"How did you know to warn the Commandant I was in trouble?" I asked, my voice turning uncharacteristically cold.

Taimi, wilted under my stare, her bright eyes flicking away before she spoke in a small, sheepish voice. "I have an alert set to ping me whenever anyone besides me accesses my Links. The one I made for you was based exactly on mine, so I got the notification. It wasn't intentional, I swear," she added quickly. "But once I noticed you were being detained, I was already here at the palace…" Her words trailed off, leaving an awkward silence.

Lotha barked out a laugh that rattled the walls. "She came barging into a meeting between me, Governor-General Ann, President Jacqueline, half the Senior Cabinet, and Princess Adora with her Companions, demanding your release. Never seen Taimi so worked up! She practically put the fear of the Aspects into that roomful of stuffy highborns, threatening to cancel every single contract she has with Atlantica—"

Mabbs hastily cleared her throat, shooting the orc a sharp look. "Commandant, please don't speak about our superiors so candidly, especially in public." Her large ears twitched with alarm as she glanced around at the Dragoons milling just out of earshot. "And let's not mention a certain royal's presence again. It's supposed to be a surprise."

Lotha's tall frame stiffened at the rebuke. "Right, sorry, won't happen again. Warrior's honor," she promised, though the mousekin's skeptical sigh suggested this wasn't the first time she'd heard that pledge.

"And, well," I said, my gaze sliding back to the beet-red Taimi, "no one wants to risk angering the Federation's most brilliant Tinker."

"You've got it in one," Lotha replied, nodding. "I've worked with Taimi for years, so I volunteered to handle her demands before Adora could jump in. The princess hates those political gatherings even more than I do. It's all posturing and backroom deals, it'll drive anyone insane after a while."

"Commandant." Mabbs's admonishing tone left no room for debate.

"Fine. Forget I said that last part," Lotha grumbled, folding her massive arms over her chest.

Before the orc could say anything else, Mabbs smoothed over the conversation with a diplomatic cough. "We should've been able to figure out what happened to you pretty quickly, then let you go," she explained, her whiskers twitching with residual worry. "But Bannerlady Tomae had diverted your case to her personal queue, which kept you off our radar. Once the Commandant realized Tomae was involved…"

Mabbs trailed off, letting the end of that sentence speak for itself. Lotha had clearly charged off like a hunting wolf scenting blood. No one needed to clarify that point.

I locked my gaze on Taimi's wide, earnest eyes, marveling at how familiar they felt, despite this being our first face-to-face meeting. In a strange way, I knew her better than anyone else in this life. Our countless late-night gaming sessions, vid marathons, and rambling chats about nothing had forged a friendship as real as any I'd ever known. If she so much as suspected a friend was in danger, she would tear apart entire kingdoms to keep them safe. It was no wonder everyone in our guild adored her; she was a natural team's "mom" (or "dad," in this world's lingo), always looking out for us.

With a sudden flourish, I reached out and flicked her lightly between the eyes.

"Ow!" she yelped, rubbing the spot. "What was that for, you big jerk?"

"That's for spying on me and lying to me all these years, 'I'm no one important I only do some small jobs for the government,'" I said, trying to sound stern. Before she could protest, I pulled her into a hug.

"Thank you for being my friend through it all," I whispered, pressing her closer. "Thank you for saving me. From the breath of my lungs to the essence of my core, thank you."

Taimi's arms slid around me in return. She practically melted against my chest, clinging to me as though I were her only source of warmth in a freezing wind.

Off to one side, Lotha muttered under her breath, sounding more than a little envious. "I didn't get a hug."

There weren't many perks to being a man in this world, but the freedom to be physically affectionate with others, without fear of judgment was definitely one of them. In my previous life, I could count on one hand the times I'd hugged someone outside my own family. Everyone expected me to be stoic, to shoulder the hurt of life in silence. Crying in public would've made me look weak. Here, though, I could drop the facade, show vulnerability if I needed to, and no one would think less of me for it.

As Taimi and I embraced, I felt the soft pulse of her mana trickling into my body. It wasn't the harsh, invasive push I'd experienced with the Bannerlady, but a gentle, comforting flow, the way a woman's power naturally envelops a man she cares about. It reminded me of being wrapped in a warm quilt on a chilly night. Then, to my surprise, I felt my own mana flowing back into her, a quiet acknowledgment of how much I cared for her in return.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Okay, Taimi," I murmured, trying to ease out of the embrace before we both got carried away. "That's enough. You can let go now."

Instead, she tightened her grip. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Let me enjoy step forty-two just a little longer."

"Step forty-two?" I repeated, baffled.

She let out a startled squeak, releasing me all at once. "N-Nothing!" Her cheeks blazed pink as she turned toward Mabbs. "Didn't you need to tell John about the gag order?"

Mabbs stood breathing heavily, her gaze distant, tapping at her Link with one hand as though every flick of her fingers required immense effort. Lotha, for her part, looked just as uneasy, shifting restlessly as though she might lash out at any moment.

"Mabbs, the order," Taimi prompted again, her voice carrying a note of urgency.

That finally snapped the mousekin out of her trance. She adjusted her glasses, turned to me, and cleared her throat. "Right. By directive of the Governor-General's Office and with the President of Atlantica's backing, all events concerning Bannerlady Tomae are hereby under Quarantine until her full betrayal can be investigated. No word of her actions is to be made public. Failure to comply will result in your immediate summons before the Justice's Tribunal."

I understood the unspoken subtext: traitors rarely worked alone, and rooting out Tomae's allies was top priority. But it also conveniently kept me from speaking out, receiving recognition, or even basic compensation for what I'd just gone through. Typical.

Both Dragoons seemed braced for an outburst, their shoulders tense as though prepared to restrain me if I so much as raised my voice.

"I'm not happy about it," I said coolly, my frustration palpable. "In fact, I'm downright pissed. But I get it, I'll keep quiet. Just don't expect it to be easy for me."

Relief flickered over their faces, mingling with a shared twinge of guilt. Lotha straightened, then lifted her head as though a sudden idea had just dawned on her.

"John," Lotha rumbled, turning her attention my way. "You said you were working with one of the vendors tonight. Which one, and where?"

"I'll be set up in one of the outer pavilions, King Victor's Bar stand, near the overlook," I answered, still feeling the tension in my shoulders from the earlier drama.

The orc Commandant clicked her tongue, thinking. "We can't do anything official at the moment," she said, "but unofficially, I could pull some strings and have the King Victor's stand relocated to the main pavilion. That is, if you think it's a good idea."

"Fantastic idea!" Taimi cut in, her voice bright with genuine excitement. "I'll be at the main pavilion all night anyway, so we can hang out."

My bosses, Krenk and Strom, would be over the moon at the prospect, greedy bastards that they were. It would be a chance to rub elbows with the elite and hopefully earn a small fortune in the process.

"I won't say no if you can manage it," I replied, hoping not to sound too eager. "That would really help me out. My absence almost cost them their chance, so this more than makes up for it."

Looking pleased with herself, Lotha barked, "Mabbs, get on that."

The mouse girl let out a weary sigh, her whiskers twitching with resignation. "Yes, ma'am. I'm sure rearranging the vendor layout just a few hours before the gala won't cause any massive headaches."

Lotha's sharp gaze snapped to her underling. "Are you giving me lip, Mabbs?"

"No, ma'am," the mousekin retorted sarcastically. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Good," said missing Mabbs tone

"This is going to be amazing! I can't wait to introduce you to everyone and show you what I've been working on!" Taimi bubbled, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Oh—and you have to see my latest masterpiece!"

"Taimi, I'll be busy working," I reminded her gently.

Her shoulders sank, and she looked as devastated as if I'd just punted a puppy in front of her. "Darn…" she murmured.

I cleared my throat, hoping to soften the blow. "But I could use an escort. You know, to help me get around."

In truth, I probably did need the assistance. I hadn't the faintest clue how to navigate the palace corridors, and it certainly wasn't wise for a man to wander alone. Taimi's face lit up, bright as fireworks.

Before we could head out, Lotha called, "Hold on. Take this." She extended a small linking crystal carved with intricate runes, glowing softly.

Mabbs sucked in a sharp breath, her round eyes going wide with alarm.

"Neat!" Taimi chirped, plucking the crystal from Lotha's hand and slotting it into my Link on her belt. She then removed one of my own crystals, handed it to Lotha, and returned the device to me once the exchange was complete.

"If you run into any more trouble," Lotha said, voice gruff but not unkind, "call me. I'll handle it." She hesitated, her green cheeks darkening slightly. "Or if you just…want to talk as friends, that's fine too."

Mabbs groaned and buried her face in her hands.

"Problem?" Lotha asked, brow furrowed.

With a dramatic sigh, Mabbs replied, "No problem, Commandant. I most definitely did not just watch you hand over a classified, high-security linking crystal to a civilian. Clearly, I need my glasses checked." She made a show of taking them off and wiping them on her shirt.

My lips twitched in a faint smile as I slipped the crystal into my pocket. "Well… thanks, I guess. I'll see you around. Take care of yourself, Commandant." I gestured for Taimi to join me. I'd wasted more than enough time in this part of the palace already.

Lotha gave me a hearty wave as she strode off, with Mabbs hurrying alongside, frantically tapping on her Link as she walked. Soon enough, Taimi and I were alone, for the first time, truly.

"So," I said, turning to her. "What's step forty-two?"

She jolted, nearly dropping her own Link in surprise. "Oh, uh, would you look at the time?" she said, glancing down at the tiny screen. "It's a quarter to the hour, which means we really need to get going. No dillydallying!"

She darted ahead in a fluster, gesturing for me to follow, very obviously ignoring my question. And from the guilty look on her face, I suspected I might not like the answer anyway.

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Codex

An Introduction to the Races of Erda

Chapter 14, The Curious Case of the Gnomes

By Lady Brimsley Hasting, Senior Scholastic of Anthropology, St. Andrea Scholasticum

While all gnomes fall under the category of halflings, not all halflings are gnomes. To be identified as a gnome among halflings, one must awaken the dormant, inherited memories and the magical ability known as Technopathy. This stands in contrast to other halflings who might manifest abilities in Herbomancy, Shadowmancy, or other rarer branches of their ancestral inheritance.

Historically, halflings, like all Kin, were originally crafted by the High Elves to serve as slaves within their expansive empire. Halflings emerged as the first of the so-called "second generation" following the creation of humans, designed as more specialized servants with pre-programmed memories and inherent magical abilities. Each halfling reaches a pivotal moment in adolescence when these latent powers awaken, with Technopathy being the most revered and sought-after of these abilities.

During the era of the High Elven Empire, the gift of Technopathy was exceedingly prevalent, serving a crucial role in maintaining the empire's grand constructs. Gnomes, equipped with the unique ability to interact with the technological wonders crafted by the elves, were invaluable. However, this boon bore a heavy price as the magic that powered the world began to wane. As the empire's great machines faltered and the magic sustaining them ebbed, so too did the lives of their gnome caretakers, who were deeply bound to the technologies they tended. Many gnomes perished as their Focus deteriorated. Only a few, those who lived among their less illustrious halfling kin, managed to survive and perpetuate their rare talent to their modern descendants.