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Twelve
Angry Halflings… Or Just One
By Plur Shisttle
I usually never leave the comfort that the confined
walls of Wayside Inn provide me. But it just so happened one
early morning I had gotten up from my usual table and wandered
out into the wilds for a hunt before the forest was flooded with
young adventurers. It was there, while nearing the briar patch to
the Kobold Village that a halfling came storming out of the
woodwork muttering obscenities. He stopped for a moment when he
saw me and looked up. His face was contorted and his lips curled
into a snarl. His eyes gleamed with bitterness and he stared hard
at me.
"What ya lookin' at?" he blurted out.
"A disgruntl'd halflin' I suppose." I smirked, although my comment didn't humor the halfling in the least.
"Well you can sure as well believe I'm disgruntled!" the halfling exclaimed, "You would be too if your entire life was just ruined!"
Not particularly concerned for the halfling but curious about his story I paused to listen. But before he continued I cut him off and inquired about his name. He called himself Fedwick Lemington. We decided the forest was nowhere to carry on a good conversation and retreated back to my table at Wayside Inn.
"So...as I was sayin'." Fedwick paused to mutter once more. "I can safely tell you this...because...for one...I'm disgruntled and quite drunk right now...thus lowering my defenses and I become as vulnerable as a young girl in love for the first time...secondly, I can share all my secrets...because as of this morning I've been forced into an early retirement!"
I blinked slowly, "What're you talkin' 'bout?"
Fedwick shook his head in disgust, obviously unhinged by my lack of understanding. He seemed to sober up slightly and glanced around, seeing that the entire Inn was abandoned save for us. He leaned in and whispered to me, "You see..." he snickered slightly then hiccuped, "I'm heading the Smuggler's Guild that works secretly in the Landin'." He hiccuped again.
"Some secret," I thought to myself.
Fedwick continued his tale, "But lately, with the constable doubling the guard around the docks, my men and I can't seem to find enough work without risking getting caught. Just last month four of my best smuggler's got thrown behind bars." The halfling belched and then blushed slightly. He stopped whispering to look around once more, "So my men and I have been sticking to the streets...cleaning the pockets of any saps that come across us. Why have I lowered myself and my guild to such a disrespectful task you ask?" he mumbled angrily, "Because of the curse of the Dhu Gillywack!"
I had heard of the Dhu Gillywack. It was a flagship of the Tinker Gnomes that visited Wehnimer's Landing and a variety of other cities hawking their wares and exploring the lands. I hadn't quite made the connection between this merchant ship and Fedwick's dilemma.
"I'm not quite sure I understand," I said truthfully.
Fedwick flailed his arms wildly and sat back in his seat, banging his little hands on the surface of the table. The halfling narrowed his eyes and said, "You see...those bloody tinker gnomes sold needles on that ship of theirs!" he paused, "Poisonous needles!" his voice escalated.
I merely gasped to add to the effect of the drama the halfling had been playing out.
"You don't understand!" his face grew red, "These needles are the curse of all thieves abroad! It's not safe to steal anymore! Now we must fear the sting of a needle! Unless we have a cure...we'll die from the poison! These needles will be the death of us...literally!"
I could see the halfling's problem now. I wondered how many other disgruntled thieves I would meet within the months to follow. Fedwick stood up in his chair, "These needles...that are spreading like wildfire I'd like to add...have forced me into an early retirement! The Smuggler's Guild has been nearly abandoned and my men are dropping like flies due to the poison! The ones who are fortunate enough to find a quick cure...are arrested! I can't work under these pressures!" he gave a loud sigh and collapsed back into his chair.
After a long moment of silence he looked up at me, his eyes still angry, "I fear I've told you too much...but like I said earlier...I cannot help it. Anger and liquor makes for a bad combination. I wish for nothing more than for that bloody Dhu Gillywack to crash straight into the Dragonspine Mountains and those needles destroyed forever!"
"So then, perhaps you'll turn away from your life of crime and earn an honest living?" I asked him.
Fedwick smirked, "I've got no choice! Perhaps I'll settle into the life of a baker...seems fitting for a halfling doesn't it?"
I nodded.
"To think...my power and riches have dissipated all because the presence of needles...my mother would be put to shame."Fedwick shook his head.
About this time the doors to the Inn swung open and the town constable stormed in, four burly guards following right behind him.
"Aw cripes!" Fedwick spluttered. "The gig is up!" He lowered his head in shame.
The constable wandered over to the table and didn't bother acknowledging me and just snatched Fedwick from his chair."I've got a warrant for your arrest Fedwick Lemington!"the constable declared," As headmaster of the recently dispatched Smuggler's Guild you're going to have a very, very long sentence with no mercy from the judge!" A wicked smile came over the constable's face, "I'll make sure of that."
The four burly guards came around to the sides of Fedwick as the constable headed out. Feeling outnumbered and not wanting a fight, Fedwick Lemington walked among the guards and out of the Inn. I sat there in dismay, wondering how I had let myself get so distracted from my morning hunt by a disgruntled halfling and his capers. Surely this was the last time I'd stop and listen to the tales of a bitter halfling thief. Although I was sure the chance would arise more frequently now.