Chapter 3 - The Jolly Gnome
It wasn’t too far of a walk to get to the bridge. Hollie didn’t have a watch, but she didn’t think more than half an hour had passed. A wooden sign post stood in the ground just before the bridge, informing travelers that the village of Foxley Cross was two miles to the east, the city of Derby was 125 miles to the southeast, and the town of Willow’s Wind was twenty miles to the west.
The trees had cleared up at this point, but the land was still elevated. From her position on the bridge, Hollie could see that she was atop a high hill. Outstretched before her was a seemingly endless expanse of fells and dales crisscrossed with dry stone walls and hedge rows and little copses of trees here and there, and a wide river that coursed through a broad valley. And not too far away, following the road to the east as the sign post said, were the rooftops of a small village.
Hollie took out her map and saw that the magical ink had filled out the path she had taken to the bridge, and a small icon had appeared with the words “Foxley Cross” printed underneath. She rolled it back up and returned it to her backpack, then continued on toward her destination.
Map of Realm so far [https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/53871848633_07fe1a6f68_c.jpg]
Every so often alongside the road were lamp posts, tall wooden beams with lanterns hanging from the cross beams. At the base of each of these, a selection of colorful flowers had been planted, a clear testimony to the care with which the road was maintained. The cobblestones of the road itself were in good condition, making the going quick and easy.
Half an hour out, Hollie saw the first farmstead, and then another, and a few more after that. Most of them had large flocks of sheep, but a few had other animals like cows and pigs. The houses were small and plain, but they looked sturdy and well-built. All of them had small gardens, with small green sprouts beginning to peek through the brown, tilled soil.
Map of Village [https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/53842445423_9af7302cf3_b.jpg]
Soon Hollie came to the village itself. There was no wall surrounding it, only a simple wooden fence with a wide opening where the road marched from one end of the village to the other. The day was beautiful, with wide open, cloudless blue skies. The air was crisp and cool, but the sunlight brought enough warmth to keep the temperature pleasant. It seemed that everyone in the village was out and about enjoying the weather.
Children played in the street, kicking balls and rolling hoops and chasing each other around yards and buildings. A few women gathered around a large well, chatting and laughing as they filled their water buckets. Other men and women strolled along, serious, determined looks on their faces indicating that they had business to take care of.
As Hollie passed, they nodded their heads and flashed her polite smiles, sometimes adding a friendly, “Good day.” Hollie smiled and nodded in return. She wondered if they were used to visitors. The road that ran through the village did stretch all the way to the capital city. Surely all sorts of travelers—merchants and messengers, soldiers and adventurers—passed through with some regularity.
When she came to the center of town, she paused to gaze at the assortment of buildings that crowded around the village square. There was an inn, a rather large one, which was a black and white timber-framed building three stories tall, with a large, shady oak standing guard out front. A sign hanging above the door depicted a happy, diminutive figure with a long white beard and pointed red cap, and words painted in white below that read “The Jolly Gnome”.
The Jolly Gnome [https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/53841284912_ea274fdc8d_c.jpg]
Cute, Hollie thought.
Across the square was another timber-framed building, albeit smaller, which had a sign posted above its door in bright yellow lettering welcoming customers to Chipping's Village Shop.
A small brick building next door was home to the Balnochy Royal Post, which Hollie assumed was a type of mail service. And next to it, in an even smaller building, the Village Guard was stationed. Though, peeking her head in, there was no guard to be found.
Further along, outside of the main square, Hollie found a blacksmith’s forge, an apothecary shop, a bakery, a village hall (this was another timber-framed building, brightly decorated with sprigs of green and vibrant pinks and blues from the flowers that blossomed in its window boxes), and what appeared to be some sort of school, though for what, exactly, she couldn’t tell.
Hollie pulled out the Codex from her backpack.
“Codex, I’ve made my way to Foxley Cross. Where should I go first?”
I would suggest visiting The Jolly Gnome. Or, for that matter, Chipping's Village Shop. Inns and village shops are both excellent sources of information, and the proprietors of either establishment should be able to answer any questions you might have about the village, or the Kingdom of Balnochy.
“Thanks.”
My pleasure, as always.
Hollie made to close the Codex when new words frantically began to appear on the page.
Wait…just one moment, Hollie! I would remind you to look at your Stat Card at the front of the…well, myself. It will show you how much money you have to spend, which is currently only a mere 50 balnochs. It will also tell you the amount of [Energy] and [Health] you have remaining for the day. As far as [Health] goes, you are perfectly fine. But the journey into town has cost you [30 Energy], leaving you with [70 Energy] remaining. Food, drink, and rest can raise this level, but I did just want you to be aware.
“Thank you, Codex,” Hollie said with a smile as she closed the book. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
It was a good thing she had the Codex around to help her figure things out in this world.
“So, first things first. Let’s head to The Jolly Gnome.”
She walked back to the inn and gave it a closer look. The leaves of the large oak tree rustled in the breeze, casting dappled shadows on the worn cobblestones below. The shutters of the windows hung open wide, letting the pleasant spring air and sunlight inside. As she pushed the door open, its timbers groaned in a symphony of welcome, and a cascade of warmth enveloped her like a cozy embrace.
The flickering light of the stone hearth cast dancing shadows upon the timber-framed walls. A tapestry of sounds—laughter, the clinking of tankards, and the murmurs of happy conversation—blended seamlessly with the comforting scent of home-cooked meals. A medley of savory spices and roasting herbs beckoned to her grumbling stomach, and she realized just how hungry her journey into town had made her.
It was a busy place. Which made sense, seeing as it was approaching mid day. She walked to the counter to order, but it seemed no one was around to help her.
“Hello?” she asked. “Anyone there?”
There was a sound of wood scraping on wood, like something being moved across the floor. Then a few footsteps, and a little figure popped up behind the counter, apparently standing on a stool.
“Sorry about that,” the little man said. “I’d dropped something on the floor and, well, I’m sure you can see, if I’m not standing on this here stool, you wouldn’t realize I was around. Now how can I help you?”
The little man looked almost exactly like the figure painted on the sign outside the inn.
Was he…a gnome?
Were gnomes even real?
Hollie’s shocked expression must have been apparent, because he laughed.
Buffin Willowroot [https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/53842659725_dbbc8fd8b0_b.jpg]
“I take it you’ve never seen a gnome before.” He stretched out a tiny hand to Hollie, which she shook. “Name’s Buffin Willowroot. I’m the proprietor of this fine establishment,” he said, gesturing towards the room behind her. “And no, that’s not me on the sign. That would be my great-great-great-great-GREAT-great-grandfather, Bramble Willowroot. He’s the one that founded this here inn.”
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Hollie couldn’t help but to grin as Buffin spoke. He had a happy lilt to his voice and a friendliness and a smile that was infectious.
“Are you new to Foxley Cross?” he asked. “Or passing through from Derby?”
“Oh, I’m new alright,” Hollie said. “I’m new to this whole world, you might say.”
“To this world? I’m not sure I follow.”
“I don’t exactly either,” she answered with a shrug. She didn’t know quite how to explain things when she had no idea how she’d gotten here or where she’d come from in the first place. “I just woke up in a glade in the middle of a forest and found a cottage that somehow belonged to me. It’s a place called Spritespring Hollow.”
“You don’t say?” his eyes were wide as saucers, and he leaned forward, eager to hear more. “That must have been quite disconcerting.”
“It was a bit at first,” she said, pulling a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t even remember where I came from. I still don’t! But, I don’t know. The glade…the forest…the cottage. It was all so…wonderful! It was as if everything had been made just for me. As if somehow I’d seen it before, or knew the place deep within my heart. And after a moment, all I felt was complete happiness, and I didn’t really care where I’d been before.”
“Well isn’t that something?” he mused. “Balnochy is overflowing with magic of all sorts—we’ve got dancing flowers, tea pots that dole out cooking advice, dragons that spew out colorful fireworks-but never have I heard of anyone just appearing in this world from another!” He turned his back to Hollie and called out in voice surprisingly loud for such a tiny being, “Oy, Gilda! Come on out from the kitchen for a moment, will you!”
There was a sound of clanking pots and pans and the shuffling of feet, and a high-pitched, sing-song voice muttering, “One moment. One moment, now!”
Buffin turned back to Hollie with a wide smile on his face.
“That would be my lovely wife, Gilda,” he said proudly. “We’ve been married for, oh, 117 years now? No, 118,” he corrected himself. He leaned in and whispered to Hollie, “Don’t tell her I forgot. She’ll be none too pleased and I won’t hear the end of it for…”
A plump little figure with bright blue eyes and long white hair pulled into two braids appeared in the doorway that led to the kitchen. She wore a small, yellow felt cap, a blue dress, and an apron dusted with flower.
Gilda Willowroot [https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/53842659730_62a3c80b0c_b.jpg]
“Now what’s this you’re wanting?” she asked her husband with her fists perched on her hips. “It’s one of the busiest parts of the day, and…”
“Oh, hush now,” Buffin chided with a wink and a smile. “You’ve got that kitchen wrapped around your finger with all the enchantments you’ve put on it. The food will be fine. Now look. This here is…well, I don’t believe I actually got your name,” he said to Hollie.
“I’m Hollie,” she said with a brief nod of her head to Gilda. “Hollie Townes.”
“And Hollie,” Buffin continued. “Just arrived yesterday from another world.”
“A what?” Gilda asked as she climbed the steps to stand beside her husband. “Another world did you say?”
“That’s right,” Buffin said. “Which, of course, is quite a disconcerting thing.”
“Well, I dare say it would be,” Gilda said with a look of concern on her wrinkled face. “It certainly would be! Have you eaten, love?”
“Not since this morning,” Hollie replied. “The journey into town really worked up my appetite, and everything smells so good in here…”
"Buffin , you get her a nice bowl of our [Willowroot Lamb Stew] from the kitchen, and some [Sourdough Bread].” She turned to Hollie. “I just finished baking a few loaves, love, so they’ll be warm and fresh from the oven! And how about some mead? Our local meadery brews some nice stuff, they do. Then we’ll go get a table so you can eat and tell us all about your journey so far. Maybe we can help get you sorted out in this place.”
Hollie nodded and thanked her, and soon the three were gathered round a small table by a window, Hollie telling her story and answering their questions as she ate. When she’d finished, Buffin let out a low whistle.
“That’s quite a tale you’ve got there,” he said. “Quite a tale!”
“Indeed,” Gilda agreed. “But at least you’ve found yourself in a good place. The best place, if I say so myself! Foxley Cross, and all the nearby area, is peaceful, full of good folk seeking to live their lives well and fairly. You’ll be quite safe staying around here.”
“Aye,” Buffin agreed as he scratched his nose. It was red and round and big as a spring onion. “I’d say from about ten miles east of here, all the way west to Willow’s Wind, is a good place to lay your head. Things are a bit dicey the further out you go, into the wilds and all. Even then, so long as you stick to the road, you’d be hard pressed to stumble into any danger on a trip to Derby. It’s generally well guarded, and there are plenty of inns and shelters on the way.”
“But she won’t be traveling that far any time soon, Buffin ,” Gilda said. “Will you, love?”
Hollie looked at them both, her expression blank.
“I suppose not. I mean, the letter did mention that I’d have to recreate the Map of the Realm. And from the way the map works, it would seem I’d eventually have to get out there and see it all for myself. And of course, I’ve got to find the Library’s lost books too. But, it does seem to me like that won’t be for a good while. My first Quest Objective is to reach [Cottager Level 2], and I think I’ve got quite a bit to do before that happens!”
“That’ll go more quickly than you think,” Gilda said, patting Hollie’s hand reassuringly. “Just doing things around your cottage—cooking, fixing things up, tending your garden—will earn you experience in no time.”
“Tell me now,” Buffin chimed in. “Does this Codex of yours show all the different [Cottager] skills you can learn?”
“I think so,” Hollie said. She reached into her backpack, pulled the Codex out, and slid it across the table to the pair. “If I recall, it listed a few things for me. Gardening, crafting, food preparation. And it said there were things I could specialize in.”
“That’s right,” Buffin said. He opened the Codex to the first page, where Hollie’s Stat Card was. “So, looking here, you’re young, sure, but certainly old enough to strike out on your own. Most humans around here do so anywhere from sixteen to nineteen years old or so.”
“Not like us gnomes,” Gilda giggled. “We don’t grow up until we’re half a century old!”
“So, exactly how old are you?” Hollie asked, then nervously added. “If you don’t mind my asking, that is. I don’t mean to be rude.”
“Not at all,” Buffin said. “I’m 171 years old, and Gilda here is 168. We gnomes typically live to about 200 years or so.”
“Wow!” Hollie exclaimed.
“Oh, that’s hardly anything,” Gilda said. "Dwarves live to around 300 years, and elves…well,” she chucked. “I don’t really know for sure. Though there are plenty I’ve met who’ve been alive for over 500! And then you’ve got the talking animals and the halflings.”
“And the orcs and goblins and trolls and ogres, the fae—though I wouldn’t really put them in the same category as all the rest—and merpeople, which, living underwater, well, they’ve got their own thing going on,” Buffin added.
“You forgot about dragons,” Gilda said. “And shapeshifters, and…oh dear, look at her, Buffin . Are you okay, love?”
Hollie’s eyes were wide, and her mouth hung open.
“I…uh…I’m okay,” she stammered. “I just…well, only in my wildest dreams could I have ever imagined all of those things…and you two…and magic, all being real!”
“Oh, it’s real alright, love,” Gilda said. “Now, most of the people in Foxley Cross are human, but there are a few large halfling families—the Brambleburrs, the Smallgroves, and the Greenbottles, to name a few. And Alice Chipping, who runs the village shop, is a half-ogre. She lives with her father, Grumble. Then there’s Fergus Stonehammer, our blacksmith. He’s a dwarf. His son, Kelda, is a soldier in the King’s Army. And Elara Copperleaf is our resident elf. She runs the bakery.”
Buffin chimed in eagerly. “And if you venture over to Willow’s Wind—such a beautiful, unique little town, by the way—you’ll find that it’s mostly made up of talking animals.”
Hollie shook her head and smiled.
“This is a lot to take in,” she said. “In a good way, that is. I can’t wait to get to know everyone!”
“We’re always happy to welcome someone new to our community,” Gilda said. “So long as they’re a decent soul. And I can tell from looking at you that you are.”
Hollie felt warmed by her complement.
“Thank you,” she said. “That means a lot. So, what exactly do I do now?”
Buffin answered.
“I’d suggest having a look at your Codex, reviewing the [Cottager] skills and specialties, and then find tasks to do that will earn you experience.”
“Like cooking,” Gilda said. “How’d you like me to give you the recipe for [Willowroot Lamb Stew] and [Sourdough Bread]? Once you know what you need, you can head over to Alice’s shop and pick up any ingredients you don’t have. Then you can try them out back at the cottage and earn some experience that way.”
“That would be fantastic!” Hollie said.
“Good. Now let me go find a slip of paper and I’ll write them down for you,” Gilda said, leaving once more for the kitchen.
“You’ll also need to find yourself a way to make money,” Buffin told her. “You can craft things or grow things, then bring them into town to sell them. There’s even a Quest Board out in the village square, in front of Alice’s shop. People post odd jobs they need done and how much they’ll pay for it. That might be your best bet to make some money while you’re waiting for your plants to grow or your crafting skills to increase. And, of course, they’ll give you some sort of experience.”
“Thanks,” Hollie said. “That really helps.”
Gilda returned to the table with both of the recipes jotted down. Hollie put the paper into her backpack along with the Codex and stood up.
“Thank you both for such a warm welcome,” she said. “I don’t feel nearly as lost as I did when I first walked into the village.”
“Of course, love,” Gilda said. “You just be sure to stop in here whenever you come into town again.”
“Will do,” Hollie said. “And maybe you can come visit me in Spritespring Hollow some time.”
“We’d love to,” Buffin said, then, scratching his head, added, “Only, for the life of me, even though I know I’ve heard the name before and seen it on a map, I can’t remember where it is.” He looked at Hollie, troubled. “It’s not like I’ve just forgotten it and can be reminded of it. It almost feels as if it’s not a real place!”
“I wonder,” Gilda asked, “If this could be something to do with the Map of the Realm?”
Hollie dug in her backpack and took out the map, unrolling it before them. There was the village of Foxley Cross, and the road to the bridge, and finally the path through the woods to the cottage, with the name Spritespring Hollow below.
“Oh, there it is!” Buffin sighed with relief. “Clear as day now. Yes, I’ve been up there many times before. Quite a lot of good foraging in the area. Well, now that I remember, Gilda and I would love to come up for a visit.”
Hollie smiled as she put the map away, but she couldn’t escape the unsettling feeling that was gnawing at her. She recalled the words of the letter back at the cottage.
Balnochy is a magical kingdom, and if those enchanted tomes are not found and returned, and if the Map of the Realm is not recreated, every creature, person, place, and thing in Balnochy will eventually cease to exist.
And that was something she couldn’t let happen. This place was far too wonderful, filled with good people—friends. She needed to find those books and fill out the map, but if she was to do so, she’d need to start with the first objective: [Attain Cottager Level 2].
She left The Jolly Gnome behind her and headed across the square to Chipping's Village Shop.
A shop run by a half-ogre.
She had no idea what to expect.