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The Gnome Barbarian
26. The quest

26. The quest

126. THE QUEST

Nanoc and his friends had been hired to rid the kingdom of trolls, but they did not leave at once. Captain Toirtap insisted they walk down to the castle barracks where three unhappy-looking soldiers were waiting. The soldiers were all young and skinny, with the awkward postures of teenagers. They looked like they were dressed in their older brothers’ armor: nothing fit, and their uniforms were full of holes and stains. Red stains, some of them. The king liked to recycle. They did not look ready for anything more challenging than a little light gardening, but they saluted when the captain approached.

“We shall not go alone,” the captain explained to Nanoc and his friends. “We shall go in strength, together. I have summoned our greatest warriors to join us.”

“These are your greatest guards?” Rotcel ‘Loc asked skeptically.

One young soldier held a spear as if he were scared it would bite him, and the others carried their short swords with both hands. Nanoc could have knocked them all down with a burp.

“Greatness is not always a matter of power, lizardling,” the captain said sternly. “You do not second guess the gnome despite his stature—”

“I’m actually very tall for a gnome—"

“—so do not judge my men. These soldiers are the most loyal in the land, and only they can stand up to the dark, charismatic abilities the trolls will use against us.”

“Also, most of the better guards left,” one of the young soldiers explained helpfully.

“Also that. Anyway, you three, go stand next to them,” the captain said, waving a hand at Nanoc and his friends.

The friends stood beside the three guards; with the captain, their party made seven, an auspicious number. The young captain paused for a moment, conscious that the very fate of the kingdom had been placed in his hands. He stood a little taller and began an inspiring speech.

"Soldiers who serve the kingdom of Egareva and the great king who rules over it—"

“Do you know, he’s not great, he’s only ranked as reasonably good in the royal ratings,” Dren corrected the captain. “I looked it up. He’ll have to raise his king class a lot to get to a rank of ‘great,’ and I don’t see how he’d do it while being beaten by trolls.”

“—soldiers who serve our King Naem, who rules these lands and whose every command we are to obey—”

“But only if we feel like it,” muttered Nanoc.

“—our duty to protect the royal family and the treasure of the land,” the captain persevered. “And I say to you—”

“What kind of treasure would that be?” Rotcel ‘Loc asked. “Are we talking jewels or magical carpets? No, not carpets; it’s too humid around here. Golden bear teeth, maybe?”

The captain deflated.

“Look, can we just focus, please? This is our last chance,” he pleaded. “We can’t let the princess down.”

“The princess?” one of the young soldiers asked.

“I mean the king! And the princess! And the whole, the whole kingdom, sort of thing! We shall have victory or death!”

“Death? I didn’t sign up for that!” the youngest guard complained. “I just wanted a job with a uniform!”

“Girls love the uniform,” one of the slightly older guards confirmed.

“This is not about the uniform! Ask yourself how you want to be remembered: as a great warrior who saved his nation or as a useless, pathetic loser!” the captain said.

The youngest soldier looked down at his feet, then up at the sky, as if searching for an answer.

“I dunno,” he mumbled. “I mean, all your other warriors died hunting the trolls, which is pretty worrying. And I’ve only just paid off this armor, and Mom said I—”

“Get moving!”

One of the skinny soldiers raised a hand.

“Will we be back for dinner, captain?”

“Don’t ask me that! You’re a soldier—"

“Oh, I was also wondering that,” Nanoc piped in.

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“Get! Out!”

They made their way out of the castle and set out for a nearby village. Captain Toirtap’s mood improved considerably once they were underway.

“I’ve been saying we need more aggressive action for months now, but the king said leave it to the heroes, then leave it to the mercenaries, then to the higher level guards. Well, they all failed, so now it’s my turn!”

“To fail?” Dren asked, surprised.

“To… what? No, elf! To save the kingdom!”

“And how do you plan to do that?” Nanoc asked. “Because we’ve been walking for hours now, and I’m getting bored.”

“Several trolls were sighted near this village. We can track them back to their fortress if we find them,” Captain Toirtap explained. “I’m assuming your tracker is good enough for that.”

“That depends,” Rotcel ‘Loc said. “Do they have treasure?”

The captain chuckled. Rotcel ‘Loc frowned, unsure of the joke. She really could track gold better than footprints.

“Do you know, that gets us to the fortress,” Dren said. “And what’s after that?”

“Then we fight them all, of course. To victory!”

“Seven of us against an army of trolls,” Nanoc said, a little shocked that someone was finally suggesting something fun.

Captain Toirtap misunderstood, thinking Nanoc was awed by the danger of it.

“Take heart, gnome, for we will succeed,” Toirtap said with certainty. “The kingdom of Egareva is the greatest in the world, and King Naem is the best ruler who has ever lived. Hazzah!”

Dren just shook his head.

“Do you know, that’s not right. I visited your library before you left, which was a disappointing experience. There are fewer than a thousand books, some of them in deplorable condition, too. A kingdom that does not care for its books cannot be great.”

“When did you even— never mind, elf! A kingdom is more than its books! We have a unique treasure that no other place in the world Below can hope to claim!”

“Is it some kind of crown?” Rotcel ‘Loc asked.

“No!”

“Or pie?” Nanoc asked. He was getting hungry.

“No! I speak of the indomitable soul of our citizens, the greatness of this land itself! The people of this land will never turn away from danger! Is that not so, my fellow soldiers?"

The three young guards the captain had brought along agreed half-heartedly. They fully intended to turn from any danger when it presented itself.

“Do you know, a great kingdom would have more soldiers,” Dren suggested. “And those soldiers would have armor that fits.”

“Be silent, elf,” the captain said. “And the rest of you, get moving!”

They walked on, the captain leading, Nanoc and his friends following after, and the three young guards a distant third.

“Don’t be so hard on the captain, Dren,” Nanoc whispered. “Surely every person is allowed to think think that their home is the best, that their people are the strongest, and that their mother makes the best strudel?”

The very idea of such subjective values seemed to make Dren sick.

“Do you know, that’s not right at all,” he said. “These things can be measured and determined empirically. Besides, my mother makes the best strudel.”

They turned a corner and found the path cut off by a row of upright barrels with planks across them. It was a crude, unimpressive barrier but it worked well enough. Nanoc walked about it, annoyed.

There was a loud twang, and an arrow hit the ground nearby.

“Stop right there, or we’ll shoot!” a voice called out.

A large white troll and a dozen dirty bandits emerged from the woods. The troll had long talons, the bandits had bows in their hands and knives in their belts.

“You there! Do you serve the fake king?” the troll demanded.

“We serve King Naem,” Captain Toirtap replied sternly, unwilling to lie even in the face of danger.

“The king is dead! This new king is nothing but a puppet serving the secret underground empire!” the troll shouted as the bandits spread out.

“Is this the empire of lizardlings, again?” Rotcel ‘Loc sighed. “Look, this really is getting quite speciest now—”

“No, the secret underground empire of artificial birds! They want the king to turn all the horses into bird seed!” the troll said. “Even the ponies! How can you support that?”

His bandit entourage nodded at this point, adding in shouts of ‘the world is round!’ and ‘birds aren’t real’ as added emphasis.

“We… what? That’s not even—” Nanoc protested.

The troll interrupted, loudly and quickly as was of the way of his race. He wasn’t just speaking, he was using the convince ability, and at a high level, too.

“You agree, then, that he must be stopped? And have you heard of what he does to puppies—"

The troll had yellow teeth covered in dirty white fur, yet despite his off-putting look, he had a high charisma. His arguments had worked before, on peasants and naïve villagers and even on the bandits that now stood beside him. His words were sweet poison – everyone likes to see their social betters brought down occasionally. Even the king’s own guards had thoughtful frowns on their faces.

“You shouldn’t serve the king,” the troll continued. “You, gnome, you look like a smart fellow. I bet you’ve seen the king eat a puppy, right? And you, elf, surely you would be better off—”

But the troll’s tricky words had little effect: Dren wasn’t willing to believe anything he hadn’t read, Rotcel ‘Loc was willing to believe the troll’s words but didn’t see why eating puppies was a problem, and Nanoc – well, Nanoc wasn’t listening at all.

“You!” he said, ignoring the troll entirely and pointing at the bandit who had made a comment about the world being round. “Do you know my uncle?”

“What?” the bandit said, surprised.

“What!” the troll demanded. “Weren’t you listening to me?”

“Nah. Were you saying anything important?”

“I— I—” the troll said, then growled.

The troll was confused and more than a little annoyed – Nanoc had this effect on many people. The gnome wandered over to the round-world bandit and asked if he ever went to the conventions and, if so, if he’d ever met his uncle, Pacnit the gnome.

“And you, soldiers?” the troll demanded, deciding to ignore the gnome for now. “Surely you can see how wrong it is to serve such an evil king?”

“Ignore him, men,” Captain Toirtap warned. “We serve the princess with all our hearts and will not be turned.”

“The princess?”

“The king! I said the king!” Captain Toirtap snapped.

The troll sighed, clearly disappointed by such a display of loyalty. It held up a massive claw and pointed at Toirtap.

“Fine then – if you won’t join us, you can be my dinner!”