“One foot forward, and then another,” the imp on Dr. Elizabeth Giggledoodle’s shoulder commanded. “And then another!”
Liz was so tired of the red devil that she had half a mind to toss it over the craggy rocks to her side – hopefully sending it plummeting down towards unseen depths. But then the menace would just come soaring back – if there was a God it had been cruel in giving wings to imps.
“I am going as fast I can,” she said, feeling flustered. Her knees ached with every step taken going up the steep incline. The environment offered little respite either. Just dark sharp rocks, mud and a fog that made it impossible to see where she was going.
“Well, you need to be going faster, hag!” the imp chided her.
“Hag?!” Liz grabbed the devil by its throat holding him in front of her. “Who are you calling hag, you mongrel?!”
The imp began wheezing as it clawed against Liz’ hand. “You! Hag!” it sputtered – somehow growing a shade more crimson as it struggled for breath.
Liz sighed, releasing the devil, letting it flutter away in the wind.
“Aha! I have bested you, witch! No one can defeat Oggfuss, the indomitable!” it screeched as it began flying in circles around Liz’ head. “I am unassailable! Invincible! Invul—”
Liz slammed the imp out of the air, crashing it down towards the ground. “What was that last part?” she mocked, stepping over the creature as she continued upward.
“In— Invul— Invulnerable…” it said, massaging its head, as it flew back onto Liz’ shoulder. “What were we talking about again?”
Liz shook her head. “Shush,” she said. “We’re almost at the top.”
And with a few more tired steps, they conquered the summit. In front of them a vista displayed. Hundreds of lochs, nested in between towering mountains and rolling hills. Green, gray, and autumn colors mixed to create a picture of an unforgiving yet impossibly beautiful place. Whatever happened after this, Liz mused, at least no one could ever take the view away from her. She grasped in her pockets looking for a paintbrush, before remembering that she had not brought it. It had been for the best, of course – she was not here to dally with paints and crafts – but the realization still stung. She would have loved to have immortalized the view.
“Bah!” the imp on her shoulder spat. “Why are we stopping! We need to continue! One foot forward—”
Liz slapped it away once more, intent on not letting the devil ruin the moment.
“Don’t you ever shut up?”
The imp looked offended. “Does Oggfuss, the astute, ever give up?” It shook its head. “Never!”
She had assumed as much. “Fine,” she said, pointing towards the basin. “We can set up camp there maybe?”
The imp frowned. “I’d prefer somewhere sunny – where my wings are not battered with frost and cold!”
“You’ll be looking for a while then,” Liz grumbled.
“So we continue the search! Oggfuss, the explorer, is much relieved.”
“Don’t be stupid. I was joking.”
“I knew that, of course! Nothing ever gets past Oggfuss, the ever perceptive.”
Liz sighed once more, as she began the descent down towards the lake below. Whoever at the academy had decided to saddle her with Oggfuss surely had it out for her. She could not imagine what she had done to deserve such a fate. Still, in academia, one rolled with the punches. One did not become the most fabled taxonomist on the Isle without being able to put up with setbacks. And she was going to do just that! As soon as she figured out how to tune out the incessant noise from the imp.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
By the time the pair reached the shoreline Liz’ feet and knees hurt equally. She had remembered a time – some twenty years ago when she was still a spry young lady – when she could have traveled through any terrain without breaking a sweat. But those days had passed and now she was getting old. That was typically a good thing for most scholars, but alas, in her work, she needed to be out in the world to make her discoveries. Sure, she could choose to be locked away in a university somewhere, teaching tadpoles what the difference between an ogre and a giant was, but it was simply not in the cards. The best taxonomist in the world did not let others do her work for her! She did the work herself!
She clutched the straps on her backpack, repositioned it, grit her teeth and strengthened her resolve. With the discovery she was about to make, maybe things would be different? If she could document the uncharted waters of the craggy moorlands, she would become a legend in the field. If she was the first, then she could—
She stopped, her mouth agape as she realized that she had stepped right into an encampment – halflings running around her in a scurry carrying boxes and equipment as well as setting up tents.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, stepping out of the way as a small lady who was about as tall as a tree stump. “Didn’t see you there,” she added awkwardly, feeling a brush creep onto her face.
The halfling simply scoffed in response as she continued about her duties, leaving Liz to dance through the encampment, trying her best to stay out of the halflings’ way.
“Ah! I could have guessed it!” a voice traveled, sending a shiver down Liz’ spine.
“Oh, no,” she muttered, as she turned to see the small man saunter towards her – only a couple of inches taller than the halflings surrounding him.
“Dr. Giggledoodle. Have you come to steal another of my findings from under my nose?” the man asked, adjusting the large brimmed glasses on his big nose. He wiped down his beige overalls and raised an eyebrow. “You can try,” he said. “But I think you’ll find that I am more likely to expose you for the fraud you are.”
“Dr. Bramblebottom,” Liz said, giving a short bow. “I didn’t realize that you would be here…” She should have suspected it when she saw the halflings carrying research equipment. Bramblebottom only hired halflings – despite it being a logistical nightmare – because he was extremely self conscious about his height.
“You didn’t realize I would be here?” he snorted. “What a likely fable. Just like you did not suspect me to examine the white headed bruxboxom in Altshire? Just like you did not suspect me to seek out the marvelous longhaired hydra of Arwas’ seat? Seems to me it’s been a long string of coincidences then!”
Liz supposed it could appear like coincidences, but truthfully there were only so many taxonomists around. Was it really that strange that they ended up at the same places? Neither could she help that she always beat Bramblebottom to the punch. He might have had the money to travel in comfort as well as hire large research teams, but that did not make the man a particularly good researcher.
“I guess so,” she said, smiling dumbly, unsure of what to say. “Well— I’ll leave you to it.”
“Nonsense!” Bramblebottom shouted. “Without even attempting to steal my notes? Poor form, Giggledoodle. Poor form! If you think you can sneak in here in the dead of night you are mistaken! This time I have guards!” He pointed towards two halflings wearing kitchen pots for helmets and blackjacks for weapons – both missing several teeth. “They’ll keep you out.”
“Are you sure they’re conscious?” Oggfuss, the imp, asked, seemingly with genuine curiosity. “One of them has his pants on backwards.”
Bramblebottom’s head snapped towards the two guards. “Milky! Put your pants on properly.”
The other halfling looked at his pants, and then towards Bramblebottom with confusion on his face.
“Damn it! I never remember which one is which— Butter! Your pants are on backwards.”
Butter snapped to attention, immediately dropping trow.
“Not here, idiot!” Bramblebottom wheezed. “In private! Do it in your tent!”
“Uh— Sorry, master,” Butter said, scratching his bare cheeks. “Where’s my tent?”
Bramblebottom’s face began twitching as he visibly struggled to parse the words.
“Maybe we should just get out of your hair,” Liz offered, backing away. “I’ll set up camp a little bit further down that way.” She pointed backwards with her thumb. “I think I saw a cave—” she petered out, as she continued walking backwards.
Bramblebottom’s attention snapped back to Liz. “Oh. I am not worried, Giggledoodle. You’ll be back, I am sure. But this time I’ll catch your plagiarism in the act! Yes, I will!”
Finding no words to say, Liz simply nodded and smiled, as if the small, enraged researcher wasn’t cussing her out. “I’ll bring cookies!” she blurted out, cursing herself as the words left her mouth.
“And I’ll bring the institutional review board, you weasel!” Bramblebottom returned, as his words decreased in volume with every step taken by Liz.
Darn, Liz thought to herself as she hurried away from the encampment. The institutional review board? That would be a lot of cookies…