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height. He absently brushed at his white beard and straightened his
green vest. "We shall still persevere, patient Squib, " he continued,
though Squib was no longer there. "I've lived among humans for most of
my life, and there have been financially challenging times before, and
we shall yet see this one through, too. A righteous dragon has courage,
and it knows what it must do and does it, so we must be like dragons
inside, strong and brave and resolute. Just like dragons, Squib. "
But for an instant, Gilbenstock's spirits flagged. Failure likely meant
he would have to leave mighty Palanthas, jewel of all Ansalon, and
return to the gnomish homeland of Mount Nevermind. The need for
geological surveys was certainly greater at Mount Nevermind, built as
it was into a dormant volcano, but getting paid for jobs was
impossible. The Grand Bank of Nevermind had switched to a new
accounting system after the War of the Lance and now the finances of
hundreds of businesses and guilds were hopelessly fouled. Gilbenstock
had left twelve years ago to try his luck in Palanthas.
It had been hard going here. Twelve years spent at odd jobs and menial
labor in an unfriendly city, scraping together the money and materials
to build his business and assemble the parts needed to build the Iron
Dragon, his great mining machine and the core of his life. Twelve years
spent learning the peculiar ways of humans, to the point where
Gilbenstock was shocked to find he sometimes even thought and spoke in
short sentences like them. The best part of those years were the
moments he'd spent working on the Iron Dragon, fitting every nut and
bolt into place in the warehouse he'd rented a few blocks away.
Gilbenstock grimaced, unconsciously rubbing his large nose. He did not
want to leave Palanthas. He had grown fond of the great city, thick
with wonder and magic, filled with aching beauty and wretched squalor.
He had been glad to leave the noisy confinement of Mount Nevermind to
see the "real world. "
Gilbenstock wasn't like other gnomes. He understood humans sometimes,
for one thing. More remarkably, his inventions worked more often than
not. One even had marketable qualities-his Semi-Hermetic Receptacle
Eradicating Debris by Dilution, Excitation, and Rotation. But it still
needed work to avoid turning soiled laundry into strips of ripped
cloth.
He had a good life here. He had his business. He had the Iron Dragon.
He had trusty Squib, his only friend and the only person he trusted to
pilot the Iron Dragon. Even if the gully dwarf couldn't speak a word,
Squib was a genius at operating mechanical things.
But there was little else of cheer. He and Squib would starve in the
warehouse with only motor oil and machine parts for food. No, correct
that-only he would starve. Squib habitually ate out of the garbage
behind produce and butchery shops; Gilbenstock was too proud and had
too weak a stomach to even think of that. The gnome stared at his shoes
in abject depression. No new plans came to mind. Perhaps there was some
nutritive value in motor oil.
There was a sudden, strong knock at the door. The gnome jumped, then
yelled for Squib. The gully dwarf had disappeared again. Muttering to
himself, Gilbenstock crossed the threshold and threw open the door.
Three men stood outside in the pouring rain, oblivious to the streams
of water that ran down their faces. One was gangly and red-bearded, one
was tall and black-haired, and one was thick-muscled and blond. For a
reason he could not fathom, Gilbenstock had a momentary impression that
all three were brothers.
"Good... sir, " said the closest, the red-bearded man. He smiled as he
spoke, but hesitated between words as if unfamiliar with the language.
"Gilbenstock Mines and Minerals Survey for which we are looking. " He
waited for a response.
Gilbenstock blinked, his breath shallow. All three men were staring at
him in a very peculiar way, but they did not appear to be armed or
unfriendly.
"I'm Gilbenstock, " he said finally, remembering to speak like a human.
At that, the three men smiled broadly, showing all their teeth.
"Gilbenstock, very good, " said the red-bearded man. "Very good. A mine
we wish a survey from you. You we wish hire. "
Gilbenstock simply stared back at them. "You wish to hire me, " he
repeated. Then it hit him. "Oh!" he gasped. "Oh! Oh, yes!" Forgetting
himself completely, the gnome slammed the door shut and ran back into
his office, heading for his desk. He scattered papers madly, searching
for his business files. Then he remembered the door and rushed back,
flinging it wide open in a panic. The three men were still there,
standing in the rain in their soaking clothes.
"By Reorx!" the gnome cried. "Come in! Come in at once!"
They entered, heedless of their wet condition, and Gilbenstock busied
himself with clearing the papers from enough chairs to seat them all.
Squib appeared from the food cupboard, his ratty brown beard filled
with crumbs and half-chewed bits of dried fruit, and was immediately
put to work bringing the rain-soaked customers warm cups of fresh
goat's milk. The three men stared into their cups in silence, then
carefully set them aside on nearby stacks of paper.
"You'll have to excuse the looks of the place, " Gilbenstock said,
unable to contain his excitement. "Business has been a bit slow, of
course, what with the weather, but I've been keeping my hopes up that
fine gentlemen like yourselves would need professional assistance with
matters in geology, petrography, mineralogy, or even gemology, such as
it may be, and I graduated first among my guild in mine engineering and
geology, with a secondary degree in mechanics.... "
He slowed and stopped. Each of the three men was watching him in that
peculiar way again. For a dreadful second, Gilbenstock thought that if
he reached out and touched one of the men, the human would be hollow, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]