“Hard right, helmsman!” I shouted to nobody as I spun the wheel, changing the gear ratio between the tracks and causing Queen Lorna to turn and align with the gnome garage cave entrance. I noticed the main mast was too tall to fit inside the cave. The whole vehicle was too large to do anything inside.

At the garage entrance, more and more gnomes approached, staring at the approaching contraption. Some adjusted the lens of their goggles, and a few were passively eating sand dust because their jaws stopped working. As the threads pulled the machine out of the sand and on solid rock, I disengaged the drive train and throttled the air intake of the steam engine, slowing down the furnace fuel consumption. Finally, I shifted the flywheel to charge from the steam engine and blew the locomotive whistle.

The gnomes startled and jumped away when the whistle rang.

After making sure the cargo hold with my precious surprise bribes was locked and the firewood supply covered by a well-tied silk tarp, I left the cabin and walked to the prow.

“Howdy there, you filthy gnomes!” I shouted. I looked at where I was, the audience, and I couldn’t hold back. I spread my arms and screamed, “I’m the king of the world!”

A gnome walked forward into the sunlight. It was Midhusband. “Wyxnos’ mysteries! Who are you? And what is this monstrosity?”

“A decade ago you auctioned me off, old man!” I spat back. More gnomes came out of the cave. Some of them stared at me like they’d seen a ghost. “You there! Took me for dead, eh?”

I wouldn’t mention I had actually died, though.

“Wyxnos’ mercy, it’s Tina!” The driver of the vehicle I fell from shouted. “Tina is back! She survived the sands and brought us Wyxnos’ mighty war machine!” He ran inside to spread the misunderstanding.

Did I mention I hate these gnomes spewing that guy’s name every other sentence?

The gnomes, encouraged by the news rushed to see the vehicle. They started to climb aboard but I let them. I was sure I had gnome-proofed Queen Lorna. I set up the windmill to keep the flywheels from losing power and adjust the direction to catch the most wind.

A couple of gnomes were chewing one of the firewood blocks. “That’s not edible. That’s for burning.”

“Some are,” the gnome retorted and shrugged. “This is too dry, though.”

“Fire thing! What is this? A forge to craft more machines out on the sands?”

“This machine is not from Wyxnos! It doesn’t have Wyxnos’ blessed rust. See? It’s all smooth metal! Give me your dagger, let me scratch this and pee on the metal. It’ll grow more rust!”

“If you scratch my machine, I’m going to wipe the rust with your blood!” I threatened the guy who wanted to ruin the thing.

“I smell something good!” Another sniffled next to the cargo hold. “What’s inside? I think I smelled this once in the body of a giant!”

“Food?” Another asked the nosy one.

“I’m going to kill all the kobolds with this mighty crossbow!” Yet another gnome was playing with the ballista. All the weapons were locked and safe.

“help me get up there! I want to see what’s up there!” Said a gnome that was trying to climb the mast.

“Hold to the spinning thing and it will lift you there, idiot!” Another said and tried to grab the windmill paddle.

“The machine spirit is angry! Quick, bless it in the name of the emp... Wyxnos!”

“Where’s all the loot?”

“Where do you attach the coils?”

“I hear something spinning in here!”

“Why are these wheels wrapped in blankets?”

The whistle blew. I went to the cabin and removed the handle.

I really hated gnomes.

But I hated Wyxnos and that kobold bitch more.

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I thought the novelty would die down after a while but I underestimated the number of gnomes that came to see the machine. As some grew tired of exploring Queen Lorna, a new batch would rush out of the tunnels and repeat the process all over again.

“Tina!” Grenniana came running. She was four years old now and already… I don’t know how many apples are tall. I didn’t bring any apples.

“Grenniana!” I hugged the girl. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come back earlier!”

These gnomes grew too fast. She hugged me back, sniffing and patting me to make sure I was real. “You’re alive! They said you fell on the sands and the kobolds ate you.”

It was the cue to start my plan. I would convert the gnomes and then lead them to fight against the kobolds. Maybe convert the kobolds after I wiped that stupid oasis out of existence. Then make this siphon my property. Or destroy it.

“I fell on the sand, but this goddess helped me. The Matriarch.”

Here it goes. The gnomes were monotheists until that moment. They only knew Wyxnos and to them, it was a word that meant “deity”. It was time to cajole and bribe them into expanding their horizons. Silence reigned at the foot of the mountain.

“A goddess? A female goddess? Not Wyxnos?” Grenianna asked the question on the lips of every gnome silently listening to us.

“Yes! The Matriarch! She’s the caretaker of several species, and she wants to help the scavenger gnomes against the kobolds! It was thanks to her that I got this war machine here. Let’s convey at the grand cave and I’ll explain everything. Let me get one thing from the trunk first.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

I used the key to unlock the cargo hold and extricated a rather large chest from it. The gnomes with a better sense of smell were quickly drawn to the chest while the others with mechanical inclinations were puzzled by the lock. I checked the other two chests sitting in the cargo hold before I locked it back.

I moved with my sweet-smelling chest across the tunnels, Grenianna stuck to my waist and a throng of gnomes that only grew larger following behind. I took the spot where I was once sold as a slave and let the gnomes occupy the cave.

“What’s in the chest, Tina? It smells so good!” Grenniana asked.

“Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be the first one to know. I need you to help me, okay?”

“Anything. I’ll do anything you say. But please don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t.”

Some gnomes tried to climb on the rock to smell the chest but I pushed them away. “Go fetch the clan leaders and the matrons that can move if you want to know what’s in the chest before the others,” I ordered them. The poor fellows dashed away, pushing other gnomes aside.

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“I fell on the sand!” I shouted to the crowded cave, that contained most of the gnomes in the whole complex, including the females. “And the Kobolds took me prisoner. I learned their secret location, deep in the bowels of the desert. The Matriarch’s power rescued me and brought me back with the mighty machine you saw outside.”

“Is she Wyxnos?” A gnome shouted above the crowd.

“No. She’s another goddess. One that wishes the best for the children that accept her in her heart. Hear me! If you pledge yourselves to the Matriarch and put Wyxnos behind, she’ll grant even greater blessings. One of them is right inside here! And she’ll grant you a triple Exp multiplier, so long you remain loyal and don’t worship the false god Wyxnos.”

“Bullshit! Wyxnos will smite you. And kill anyone that accepts this stupid woman god!”

“No, he won’t. And I’ll show you! Grenniana, would you be the first? This girl, she’ll receive the Matriarch’s gift without pledging her allegiance. You’ll see by her face how she rates the Matriarch gift compared to any shiny junk any one of you could ever give her!”

I used the key to open the chest and took a paper bag out of the two thousand inside. The smell wafted outside and I had to shut the lid immediately. It was self-locking because I knew what was going to happen. Some gnomes had already figured out what was in the chest by the smell alone.

“What is this, Tina? It makes my belly rumble!” Grenniana asked like a kid on Christmas eve.

“Here, for you. Open the bag and you can eat what’s inside,” I said as I fended off gnomes that wanted to steal the chest.

“I TOLD YOU!” One of them slapped his fellow gnome. “And I say, there’s more inside the shiny metal vehicle! We must get it!”

“Hold,” I said to the would-be thief. “You’ll get yours soon enough. Steal from my machine and you’ll feel the other side of the Matriarch. Grenniana, eat it.”

The girl reached inside the bag and came out with a chocolate chip cookie. Baked by yours truly. She bit the tip and made the most delightful gormandizing groan ever. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she slowly munched on the cookie like it was her last. A crowd of gnomes held their collective breath as they watched.

“Praise the Matriarch! Tina, can I have another one?” She shouted and broke the silence.

“Praise the Matriarch!” A random gnome shouted back. “Give me one too!”

“Hold, everyone! Let’s negotiate!”

> > Contested Charisma test Won. Negotiations started.

That should stop any hostile actions and keep grubby grabby hands from my cookies. These base species fellows couldn’t compete with my Charisma score and social traits. I recognize I was slowly opening up to the idea of using them.

“Grenniana, do you pledge allegiance and worship to the Matriarch, benefactor of the allied species, Goddess of Knowledge and learning, and bringer of baked pastries?”

I felt like a drug dealer. That was rich in a society where the males secreted… that stuff the ladies literally craved.

“I do! I swear my fealty and allegiance to the Matriarch to the day I die!” The girl professed, then added in a lower voice, “Can I have another cookie?”

“Soon. Now, I need to look after the other lost sheep. Wyxnos is no more! The Matriarch will reign supreme! Triple Experience! And a cookie! Now, everyone who truly wishes to pledge allegiance, kneel!”

I’ve never seen ten thousand cookies vanishing so fast, leaving me with three very empty chests. Some gnomes dove inside to lick the bottom in hopes of finding another crumb. Another fix for their new addiction. Bribed by pastries designed in another world and baked with literal magic, the scavenger gnomes quickly converted themselves to the new faith. After the chocolate sugar rush faded, some of them confirmed the triple Exp buff existed by crafting some trinket. That was a huge boon for a society so starved for Exp like them.

The matrons and mothers quickly converted too, as they, in one spokesgnome’s words, “were rather fed up with the male-centric prevailing system of worship.”

It was an anarcho-capitalist society. Why wouldn’t their faith go to the highest bidder?

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A year later...

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I climbed the staircase leading to the mountains and the outside of the dead magic zone to check on my deity interface. I was curious to see if the gnomes gave any Divinity, if I had stolen anything worth something from Wyxnos already. I squealed with joy as I saw it did. I also took a bag of seeds out of my item box and walked back down. The gnomes needed to learn agriculture already.

During the last year, the cave complex was overtaken by hard work. With food in their bellies courtesy of the item box and clean fresh water from the same place, we converted parts of the mountain into crop gardens and I changed the path of discharge from one mountain lake that was fed by thawing snow to bring water to the gnome settlement. This way, we started to produce our own food at the foot of the dead magic zone.

I splurged and granted Grennianna and a few other gnomes who were the most loyal {Arcane Magic Resistance}, the whole five ranks to the girl, and the first one to the others. It was far from making the experience of stepping into the magical world pleasant, and Grenniana would have to wait until she came of age but it was a step in the right direction.

I started to train and specialize the gnomes with distinct professions and make the newly-activated boys take on these roles. Thus the inedit (and of ridiculously high rarity) Classes of [Dung Beetle Breeder], and [Dead Magic Farmer] were created by the System. I kid not, these guys were the strongest among the whole settlement.

The dung beetles were used for waste disposal, materials, and Exp farming. Their carapaces could be used as crafting materials although the meat was utterly disgusting even for the gnomes. But the little monsters, like most out there, didn’t mind cannibalism so the nutrients were promptly recycled.

Useless trash and offal were constantly scooped out of the lower tunnels and dumped on the sands for disposal. The gnomes were slowly reclaiming their ancestral caves. A fortune in coins was also discovered, and now I had an easy way to appropriate them in my item box. Just carry the literal bags of cash up the stairs, cross into the magic world, and bang! Profit.

I also trained a few gnomes to work as masons, and these were responsible for carving the tunnels and making them more navigable. Narrow sections were cut open and the floor smoothed out to allow faster travel.

Queen Lorna was a success. I had minor problems with sand entering where it shouldn’t but a quick pit stop outside the dead magic zone fixed it. I had a crew of trained gnomes who got used to manning the crossbows, ballistae and operating the cranes for safe loot retrieval. The tracked vehicle lost in speed to the fastest coil-powered machines the gnomes had but we didn’t have to worry about running out of power or going too fast. We had kobold sightings but they avoided any engagement, staying well out of firing range.

I perfected the project and was already thinking of making another, upgraded machine. Before I could commit to the crafting part, however, something happened.

We were out on the desert, collecting salvage in quantities no gnome had ever seen. It was a day like any other when the scout up on the crow’s nest shouted,

“KOBOLDS! By the Matriarch, it’s a lot of kobolds!”

I left the cabin, jumped on the roof, and from there on the crow’s nest. I focused my elven vision on the horizon and truly enough, the kobolds were re-enacting the charge of the Rohirrim of Hollywood fame, minus Sir Ian McKellen. In Gandalf’s place, a certain [Saintess].

The gauntlet was thrown the moment she commanded her raptor riders to charge. The war for the dead magic poop desert had begun.