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Chapter 9 - Gnomishblaster

The large weapon of the ogre-gnome screeched out as it slew a chunk of the tree out, Goreblaster rolling to safety just as the two further gnomes rounded the tree. With a curse (under his breath as per contract) he launched himself forward to get the jump on the unsuspecting attackers.

Pureheart sang as the magical sword arced through the air, striking a hastily raised dagger-sword, the main attack was blocked, but the barbarian slid his blade down the length of his opponent's weapon and cut into the gnome’s hand. The creature yelled out in pain, dropping the sharp implement like a child warned not to play with scissors.

As the two other combatants enclosed in the melee, Goreblaster took the opportunity to finish the disarmed foe, advancing and leaping up to strike the surprised gnome below the chin through the thick white beard. Pureheart flashed blue as the barbarian whipped the crimson from it, his opponent dropping to the floor and clutching at the wound, gargling like a really enthusiastic dentist-enjoyer. Not in that way.

He parried a second strike and rotated around so the two remaining gnomes couldn’t surround him. Although they did not seem to be especially combat proficient, it paid to be wary. It was in his contract. As a large overhead swing came down upon him, he dove towards the attacker, avoiding the strike and instead slashing out at the calves of the overgrown garden ornament. As blood was rendered unto the floor, the gnome staggered backwards, allowing the third to intervene.

“Just die already,” it bellowed, levelling a series of furious swings at the now (comparatively only) short hero. Each one blocked or dodged, sending the barbarian a few feet backwards. Despite his overwhelming strength and ridiculously good looks, blocking the heavy strikes over and over was sending waves of numbness through his sword arm.

After the next block, he lept and grabbed ahold of the thick beard of this particular Henry, ignoring the uncomfortable complaints of the tall gnome. A grasp of the moustache whiskers especially drew out a pained wince, allowing Goreblaster to show the creature the pointy end of Pureheart, right in the eye! That is the place most people see from.

The third gnome paled and took off to run, but by then it was too late, and the barbarian easily dispatched it in a hereto undescribed way. He wiped his sword off on one of the odd pointy shoes of the fallen gnome and turned to find Percy.

“Not even as dangerous as actual ogres, really,” he complained. “And these ones haven’t split.” Immediately he turned to watch the surrounding area, assuming that he had just invoked fate - but nothing but silence greeted them.

“I’m not sure why you are so disappointed,” Percy rolled his eyes, one way and then the next. “Don’t you want to get this over and done with?”

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“Yeah, but they could at least make it fun,” the barbarian pouted.

Moving back along the road they eventually found themselves entering what looked to be a small village. The houses, now seemingly appropriately sized for the tall gnomes, were basic in design and offered no enemies or other threats. Goreblaster was pleased to observe that it didn’t look like they had a library. At the far point from between these dozen or so houses, an even greater tree rose up into the sky - and at the base a large arched doorway sat open, darkness looming within.

“I reckon if I were a gnomish demi-god, I’d be hiding down there,” Goreblaster gestured with the business end of his sword. (The business was stabbing and seasonal trade was up this quarter).

“Gore, if you were a gnomish demi-god, the last thing you would be doing is hiding,” Percy rolled his eyes in opposite directions.

“That is where they made their first mistake,” the barbarian grinned, not willing to elaborate.

The air cooled as they stood at the entrance to this unknown cavern beneath the tree. The doorway itself was a good forty feet in height and maybe a smidge wider. Certainly overkill even for the larger gnomes. Could this be to accommodate the supposed demi-god? Where were the rest of the villager-gnomes? Where was that food that they had smelt? All good questions that weighed on their minds and tum-tums.

With cautious steps and aching legs, they walked into the shadow of the caves, the faintest hint of dim light in the distance barely enough to traverse the smooth stone that paved the way before them. As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, the barest of shapes could be made out on the walls. Rectangles, or squares, sometimes both, slightly protruded at various points along the route. Goreblaster pulsed energy through Pureheart and raised the blue light above his head to investigate.

It was a painting. Of him.

He moved to the next frame jutting out from the cavern wall, and then quickly to the opposite side. All paintings of him, characterisations of some of his battles over the years. There was the Bonebat of Archios, and Strongfist Guttermenace, but this last one was the most worrying - or gratifying, he hadn’t decided which- the painting showed him towering over the wizard who had cursed him.

“Impressive amount of detail in the brushwork; you wouldn’t have thought them to be very proficient painters-” Percy began before the barbarian shushed him.

“The sign of a bad adventure is having a higher number of questions than body count,” Goreblaster shook his head, “Let’s put a pin in this. Oh, the replicating gnomes don’t count, before you start.”

Percy said nothing but shrugged and rolled his eyes very very slowly.

Reaching the near end of the world's second most creepy Goreblaster fan club, the pair now found the passageway open up into a large circular and domed chamber. At the far end the source of the dim light was now clear to see - atop a giant throne sat a gnome larger than even any of the previously encountered, an approximate thirty feet in height. This giga-gnome had a band encircling the base of its pointed red hat in which a large yellow gemstone sat, giving off a gentle but foreboding light.

The eyes of the giant gnome opened, and a large hand rose into the air, digit extended to point towards the two (comparatively) tiny figures at the chamber entryway. The dozen ogre-sized gnomes that previously went unnoticed as they were bent over in prayer now standing and turning towards the doorway.

“Remember, Percy,” Goreblaster winked as he levelled Pureheart towards the enemy, “Gnome mercy.”

Percy rolled, but his eyes did not.