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Gnome Quest

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This is my newest. Its not finished and I wont post any more of it unless anyone likes it.

Here it is! Its called Gnome's Quest

Once upon a time, there lived a green tree gnome. He was a farmer and sold his crops in the walled village of Alagsia. Every day he would grab his corn, a white traveling hat and a sack in which to put the corn. He would then walk through the beautiful countryside to Castle Leut. Behind of his house was a bridge, patrolled by two guards, checking all who come in through Alagsia.

He would through the Dark Wood and sell his grain inside the castle. Then he would come back with about 50 gold pieces and settle down for the night. He would use the money to buy more crops, to sell, then buy, then sell. This was a boring life and the gnome wanted adventure.

One day while plowing on his small field, a man in white robes and a silly pointed hat with a star on it came to the gnome’s farm. He had a long gnarly stick, like a walking stick. He caressed his long white beard. He asked for the gnome’s help. This is what he had been waiting for his whole life! Yay! The man in the robes introduced himself.

“I am Ozgood the Wizard.”

“And I am a tree gnome!”

“I see that.” Ozgood replied, rubbing his white long beard.

Two tall armor-clad humans walked towards Ozgood and the tree gnome.

“What an odd couple!” The left one smirked.

“Dare you trifle with a wizard?” Ozgood questions the men.

The men quiet up.

They were the city guards. Wearing blue surcoats and grey steel gauntlets, cuirass and greaves, they were supposed to check all new comers to the city of Alagsia. The blue surcoats bore a symbol of a white unicorn standing over an orc, its hoof on the orc’s chest.

“Name?” The right guard said.

“Tell me yours…” Ozgood replied.

“I am Lieutenant Boric and he is pike-man Cillogue.”

“I am Ozgood the Wizard of Colorless Robes.”

He was right; his white robes were, well, colorless.

“Reason for being here?” Cillogue asked.

“Gathering adventurers for quests.” Ozgood said

“Any weapons?” Cillogue asked.

Boric looked at Ozgood’s walking stick.

“Oh, you mean my stick?” Ozgood laughed.

Boric looked up and down at the stick.

“It could cause minor fractures, broken legs, knees and possibly knock out an opponent. I’m sorry to say, that stick is too dangerous.” Boric observed.

“No no no. This is what’s it’s used for.” Ozgood turns and points his stick at a nearby tree.

“Otilous Methous Legosy!” Ozgood chanted. The tree then burst into ashes.

“Otilous Giegys Ashemounte!” Ozgood yelled. Up from the ashes rose a figure with white, feathered wings. It had white armor covering its whole body. The helmet was a giant gaping hood, with nothing inside.

“I bring you a Celestial Avenger!” Ozgood yelled.

“Wow!” The tree gnome exclaimed.

“All right, that stick is going no wear near this place!!!” Cillogue yelled.

“I know that. I’m just showing the real purpose.” Ozgood said.

“Yes he is.” The tree gnome explained.

“And who are you little green one, you don’t look familiar.”

“I am Glean; I live in the farmsteads, up the road. I sell my crops in the city of Alagsia.”

“Please read this notice Ozgood.” Cillogue said, holding up a piece of paper.

Any or all who seek adventurers

must consult with King Leftin at

once if looking for such people. If

they are willing face danger, and

agree to this contract… I will put no

adventurer’s life after mine if teaching

such a person. If you agree to this, you

may pick one adventurer from each


Yours truly,

King Leftin

Ozgood grabbed the contract, read it and agreed to the condition.

“Here, take it.”

“Gladly.” Boric said, arm rose, hand opened.

With the contract, both the guards quickly ran towards to castle, which was a faint out line of turrets and walls.

“Where are we to?” Glean asked.

“To Farfenheir, to-” He was cut off by Glean saying something.

“We must go to Alagsia, so we can speak to the king, maybe he has a quest!”

“It’s actually a pretty good idea Glean, you need some armor and weapons anyway, and I might know one of the blacksmiths.” Ozgood replied.

“And plus,” Glean asked “don’t we need to consult with the king about adventuring and all?”

“My friend, you have a lot to learn.”

Glean ran inside his mud made house, and shut the door. And came back out with a sack, his white traveling hat and some grain. And they were off, following the road that stretched from the farmlands and the homesteads to Castle Leut. Unfortunately, that road went through the Dark Wood. Only a tiny bit, but that was all it’s needed to have a bear or trolls wander out and maul a poor person. But it was a necessary risk all people who wish to enter Castle Leut had to go through. Ozgood and Glean were well aware of the dangers of the Dark Wood. One time Glean was walking in a group towards Castle Leut to buy some apples and bread. The group consisted of a dwarf, Merigan, a Halfling by the name of Korl and a member of the royal mercenaries of Meshink.

As they went through the Dark Wood path, a pair of orcs jumped them. They wore rusted iron squares that covered their chests and arms. The apparent leader wore a cat-like mask over his face, but his green pointed ears came through the back. The royal member of the mercenaries used his halberd to cleave one in half.

“ Run little ones!” He screamed.

Glean and Korl ran towards the castle, but were besieged by a green ugly potbellied orc. He held his great axe in two hands. He brought it down on Korl, making two of him. Glean ran and ran towards the gate, which was protected by some guards against an attack like that. He told them about the orcs, Merigan the dwarf and the mercenary member, hoping they were still alive. Glean did not stay to learn the truth, he fled to the castle, got drunk in the pub and stumbled to the market bought his supplies and went home with an escort of seven guards.

Ozgood had an idea Why don’t they just make a path going around the Dark wood? He thought to himself.

A couple paces ahead of them was a jolly old fat man wearing a turban, caring a bowl of assorted odds n’ ends. He turned around to see Glean and Ozgood.

“Hi!” He yelled.

“Hello to you.” Ozgood replied.

“What brings you to Alagsia?” Glean asked.

“Oh, I'm just trading my odds n’ ends for some groceries.”

“Where are you from?” Ozgood said.

“Oh, I’m from the far east, the town of Cracaz. Quiet beautiful she is. The road stretches from here to all the way to the military stronghold Kuhardas.”

“What tis’ thy name?” Glean asked.

“I’m Helvers, illusionist and jester of King Jeryhn!” He proudly exclaimed.


Edited topic's title.

Edited by Phantom

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aww, your just gonna cut it off there...moremoremoremoremoremore! NOW!


Nah, But I am hoping you'll post more soon.

I like the classical-faerietale-ness ya got goin on here.

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well, if you cant stop writing medieval fantasies, and you would like to be able to stop, try getting a few good books of another genre. read them, and your mind will faze over to the genre of those books. its natural for a mind to want to reply to a workit enjoyed by creating a simialr story with similar elements.

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its natural for a mind to want to reply to a workit enjoyed by creating a simialr story with similar elements.

Yep, I do that all the time

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“King Jeryhn?” Glean questioned.

“Oh? And who are you, little one?” Helvers asked.

“I’m Glean, a simple tree gnome.” He answered.

“How far to Castle Leut?” Ozgood asked.

“About days walk from here.” He replied.

Ozgood looked ahead of the path. Still a faint line of turrets and walls appeared. But this time, the sun was setting behind the castle. It created a brilliant star of orange light.

“We’d better set up tent here.” Helvers said.

“Would you be so kind to let us sleep here, we have safety in numbers?” Ozgood asked.

“Of course, I carry around extra pillows, blankets and bed rolls.” Helvers said.

“Why thank you!” Glean yelled.

They walked up towards a signpost. It was weathered, wooden and full of dents and cracks. Two arrows pointed to the East and to the North. The white letters inscribed on the signpost read…



“We’d better camp here.” Helvers exclaimed.

As the group walked up to a ditch on the side of the path, a Halfling popped out of the brush. He wore a hood and held a bronze colored short sword in his hand. His cloak was dull grey and he had a smirk on his beardless face.

“Who are you?” Glean asked.

“Shut your filthy rat mouth!” The Halfling yelled.

There was silence. Then the Halfling spoke.

“I’m Aveleg. I’m and going to rob and kill you stupid walking mounds of ash!”

He lunged towards Glean, but Helvers pulled out a scimitar and parried Aveleg’s blow.

“You rotten lousy…” Aveleg managed to mumble.

Ozgood raised his staff. He swung it at the robber. A loud crack was heard. Aveleg fell to the ground, his kneecap broken. He clutched it, but swung his sword with his other hand. He sliced at Ozgood’s robes. A strip of the white robes fell to the ground. Ozgood then raised his staff and yelled a strange incantation.

“Morfious Undeadum!!!” He yelled.

A rotting skeletal hand rose from the ground. It stretched its bony fingers. A second hand rose from the ground.

Glean realized it was a reanimated skeleton, not just hands. A complete, plant covered skeleton rose from the ground. It looked down at Aveleg’s horrified face. He tried to crawl away, but he wasn’t fast enough.

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