Garblack the Goblin held a council in a low-ceilinged cave. His war council assembled in front of him in hushed anticipation. It had taken months, but Garblack had done it. He had finally found a route into the Dwarvish trading outpost. They had spent the last few weeks tunneling and digging out vast chambers under the Dwarvish city. The last few days had been spent both filling the tunnels with breaching charges and convincing as many goblins as they could to join them in their raid.

“How many have we got then?” asked Garblack to the assembled war council, the Goblish words sounding like a mix of pig squeals and low growls.

“Just over a thousand, m’lord,” said a broad-shouldered goblin in plate armor. The torchlight flickered across the room as the council exchanged shifty looks. By their estimates, the Dwarvish outpost had a garrison possibly as big as fifteen hundred Dwarven warriors.

Garblack let out a wide, sharp-toothed smile. “It's okay, boys. They won't be expecting us. We'll be eating good tonight,” he said, reassuring himself as much as the small gaggle of goblins in the cave. “Tell the boys to light the fuses. It's go time.” The group of goblins let out a cacophony of yelping laughs and shrieks as they scurried from the room.

Garblack looked to the larger goblin in the plate armor. He was the only member of the war council to have stayed behind. “Boss, are you sure about this?” he asked Garblack.

Garblack glowered up at the taller goblin. Dropping his smile, he leaned in close. “I say it's what we're gonna do. You got a problem with that, Grut?” Garblack spat.

“No, boss,” Grut said quickly. “You say I do.” He saluted Garblack before leaving the chamber to attend to his own troops.

****************

It took Snorri and the professor ten or so minutes of hurriedly walking through the academy's long tunnels and spiral staircase to reach the lower school levels. By the time they arrived, sweat was dripping from the professor's forehead, and he was wheezing slightly as he reached up and knocked on the door. The noise from within quickly died off, and the door swung open to reveal an older gnome in the slightly more decorated robes of a teacher of the academy. He took a moment to recognize the professor and Snorri.

“Ah, Professor Henders, I was told you would be attending my class today,” said the gnome, offering the professor his hand to shake. The professor took the handshake. “Mister Rubus, how good to see you again,” he beamed at him. “Have you met my intern Snorri?” He gestured to Snorri. “He is here today to help me in… well, in any way I need help. Isn't that right, Snorri?” said the little professor to Snorri.

Snorri grimaced and nodded in greeting to Mr. Rubus as the two of them entered the classroom. Thirty smiling Gnomish teenage faces greeted them as they entered, eyes eagerly fixed on the new visitors in their habitat. Mr. Rubus turned to the class. “Class, this is Professor Henders and Mr. Snorri,” he said to the room at large in a voice of absolute authority. “Good morning, Professor Henders. Good morning, Mr. Snorri,” the class said in a practiced chorus of high-pitched Gnomish voices. The Gnomish children were arranged in rows of small desks; each of them held a quill in hand and was ready to begin their studies for the day.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

There was another knock at the classroom door, and before Snorri had time to see who it was, Mr. Rubus was already introducing the class to the next guest. “This is Vault Technician Orin, class,” he informed the class. After the class's well-practiced response yet again boomed around the room, the vault technician crossed the room to the teacher's desk and placed a large glass box on the desk. Before the students could get a look, he draped a large white cloth over the box and stood to one side, allowing Mr. Rubus to stand in front of the desk and address the students.

“Today class, we have a very special opportunity. But who here can tell me what Professor Henders is most well known for?” Mr. Rubus asked the class. Professor Henders grimaced as several four-finger stubby hands shot into the air. Mr. Rubus gestured to a red-haired gnome with big curious eyes. “Professor Henders discovered the Leveling system,” she squeaked in a high-pitched voice. Mr. Rubus nodded encouragingly. “Well done, Lillaiya. Could you guys show Professor Henders how to use the appraisal skill?” The class, in well-practiced motions, raised their left hands and chimed in unison, “Activate appraisal.” Thirty or so determined little faces broke into triumphant smiles as the numbers flickered into view above the gnomes' heads. The teacher and Snorri had a sparkling number 4 displayed above their heads, whereas Professor Henders had a sparkling number 5. Snorri had accidentally activated the appraisal skill non-verbally and was treated to a display of thirty or so sparkling 1’s above each of the students' heads. “Well done, class,” Mr. Rubus said. The vault technician cleared his throat. “Mr. Snorri, would you please help me to remove the cloth?” Snorri crossed the room and clasped the corners of the cloth; the students descended into a hushed silence as the two older gnomes removed the cloth, revealing a large glass case.

Inside the case, a sword hung on a stand, a chain extending from its pommel ended in a nasty-looking cuff hung open. The Vault Technician cleared his throat. “Centuries ago, a lone dwarf visited the mountain. He was gravely wounded and died soon after reaching our home. This weapon was chained to his wrist when he died. Many gnomes attempted to remove it, but none lived to tell the tale.” He hesitated to give the children a quick glance to make sure he hadn't scared them too much before continuing. “Eventually, the academy decided to cremate the fallen dwarf's body with the blade. The fire burned for ten nights and ten days; eventually, after the pyre had turned to ash, this weapon was all that was left of him.” One student raised their hand. “If every gnome that touches it dies, then how did you get it in the case?” asked a sprightly young gnome in the front row, craning to get a look into the case behind Snorri. Snorri moved behind the case, allowing the young gnome a good look inside. “The vault technicians of the time used a complicated system of gears and pulleys to place the blade in this case, where it has remained since.” The students took a moment to absorb that.

And then the floor under Snorri’s feet exploded.