On a recent expedition into the lair of Trakanon, a team of adventurers uncovered a satchel of ancient parchments. On those parchments were a series of writings by an otherwise unknown bard by the name of Eylee Zephyrswell. Gnomeish scolars have dated the documents to some time within the heart of the Lost Age. This, the second story to be pulled from those documents, deals with an odd little halfling and his even odder gnomish companion.
For weeks, none but Twiddy set foot on the Mudskipper. When any came close, a ballista launched rotting food their way. For his part, Twiddy sulked around on deck. The truth was, he hadn't been anywhere near achieving flight with his contraption. He had built the boat to what he believed would be suitable specifications necessary for it to travel aloft, balancing and rebalancing time and time again; but it was lacking any necessary mechanism to actually perform the lifting. In order to keep trying to find the necessary mechanisms to lift the boat into the air, he was going to need support, and they'd all but cut him off from that.
Twiddy was lying within the crow's nest and gazing into the sky, waiting patiently for some inspiration to hit -- after all, if he was truly destined for this, it was not so foolish to think the answer might be written in the sky -- when his ears picked up a ruckus some distance off. He sat up and peered over the edge of the nest. From his vantage, he was able to watch in plain view as a giant metal wheel rolled through the tunnel leading through the village and down the pathway. Halflings were scattering this way and that out of its pathway, children screaming in excitement and mothers screaming in earnest. Twiddy squinted, studying the contraption attached to it. There was some sort of small cabin with a similarly small driver inside of it, and a series of pipes attached to the back of the wheel belched smoke and steam. The halfling watched as the wheel rolled and rolled, noting as it drew closer the stream of frustrated shouts that were coming from the cabin of the strange craft. The wheel veered wildly to the left just as it was about to run into one the small red-roofed cottages that the Stubtoes called home. It careened into a creek and stuck fast in the gooey mud of its bed.
Twiddy scaled down the mast of his ship and then down the scaffolding to join the flood of halflings running to check on their curious visitor. Rivervale was no stranger to visitors. Especially in recent times, as the elves of the Elddar Forest flooded out of its dying canopies to make for new lands, they played hosts to visitors nightly, and as their hospitality was considered only second to their good cooking, their inn had remained almost solidly booked.
This particular visitor was one of the strangest they had received in some time. Climbing out of the jumbled mass of metal, a gnome appeared muttering a string of words and numbers to himself. He was dressed in such a way that nothing but his eyes and bulgy nose were visible, and his eyes only remained visible until he pulled goggles down over them and stuck his head straight into the creek to survey his craft. His head was covered by a bulky cap, his mouth by a scarf, and the rest of his clothing seemed to serve as a tool shelf. Odds and ends stuck out everywhere from his person.
While everyone else stared on in fascination, Twiddy stared on in excitement. He knew the gnome to be one Professor A.M. Fiddlewiz, and they had met some years ago when Twiddy undertook a journey to find the mermaid who had rescued him from Scratchbottom Pond. On his way north to the Everfrost peaks, his boat had fallen to disrepair, and he needed to moor it in an elven outpost known as Fayspire until it had been fixed. Fiddlewiz had in his possession the only book on shipcraft that could be found in the Fayspire library, and in exchange for a lift to the north, the gnome had offered his help in repairing the vessel.
They had parted ways then without much of a thought of seeing one another again, but Twiddy knew that the gnome's timing was nothing less than the destiny he had been waiting for. He pushed his way through the crowd, crying, "Fiddlewiz! Fiddlewiz!"
When he had finally reached the creek's banks, trying his best to ignore the laughter and chanting that had started up behind him, Fiddlewiz was waiting for him. The gnome had by then settled down to lean against his vehicle and light up a pipe. Twiddy smelled a distinct scent of moon's glow root, and knew it for elven tobacco.
"Professor A.M. Fiddlewiz," said Twiddy as he finally reached the gnome and leaned over, panting, "I don't know if you remember me, but we journeyed together so many years ago on our way to the north." The gnome regarded him and then, after a moment, nodded. Fiddlewiz pulled up the goggles onto his head and unwrapped the scarf, smiling.
"Twiddy Bobick, if I recall correctly," said the gnome.
Twiddy nodded rapidly. "The very same!" said Twiddy. "And how is it you've landed here, friend?"
The Professor looked at Twiddy and then back at the wheel and said. "My craft's stuck," he said. "I lost control just as I hit town. I believe it may have to do with the mechamagical carthine converter, which, you see..." With that, the gnome proceeded to launch into a full explanation of the inner workings of his machine, which caused more than one halfling to doze off before it was through. "And that is why I am going to need to ask for your hospitality."
Twiddy nodded, and said, "Of course! Of course! I believe the inn may be full..."
"No it isn't," piped up Sully the Innkeep from behind them. "I've at least two good rooms empty."
Twiddy shot a glance of annoyance back at Sully and then looked back at the Professor. "Well, the inn is always very crowded," he said. "You are more than welcome to stay with me on my ship. There's plenty of room for another"
Fiddlewiz looked long at Twiddy and then back at the crowd. He shrugged and said, "It's always a pleasure to talk with another craftsman."
Twiddy led the Professor away from the crowd, who watched the pair go with curious eyes. How did Twiddy know such a curious individual? Everyone supposed it must have been on the journey he went on so many springs past, and as that memory was stirred, stories of Twiddy's uncommon fate began to resurface, and by nightfall, Twiddy's humiliation on Myrthday had all but disappeared as the village of Rivervale remembered why they had once believed in Twiddy in the first place.
For Twiddy and the Professor, it was a sleepless night. Twiddy showed Fiddlewiz what he had built so far, and all the notes he had been making in regards to his studies of the possibility of flight. Fiddlewiz looked over it all quietly, only now and then muttering an equation to himself and then shouting the answer gleefully. Finally, when all was said that could be said, and Twiddy stared on at Fiddlewiz hopefully, the little gnome nodded a short, quick nod and declared:
"This is a challenge meant for a gnome. I'm going to stay with you and work on this whether you like it or not, so I hope you are amenable."
Twiddy grinned ear from ear, as all night he had been dancing around asking for the Professor's help. As the new day broke, the halflings of Rivervale peered out from their windows to see Twiddy scurrying around with planks and lengths of cloth and ropes of all lengths and thicknesses, and in the background, Fiddlewiz drew out equations in the dirt with a stick, occasionally stopping to shout something at Twiddy. The town buzzed with excitement. Even the elders couldn't deny that something great seemed to be coming for the village of Rivervale.
But there were none who could claim to be as excited as Twiddy himself, who saw, piece by piece, his dreams assembled before his eyes.
It was in his twentieth year that Twiddy Bobick had first met Professor A. M. Fiddlewiz. Though not yet an adult, it came upon Twiddy that he should make a journey unlike most halflings ever would, due to circumstances most halflings would never understand, and creatures they would never meet. You see, as a young child, Twiddy had been terrified of water, and on a day when he should have been in swimming lessons, he was instead running wild and had his first encounter with the mysterious Drafling. The tiny green dragon with the face of a halfling and his servant, a stoic ogre with a penchant for chewing on tree bark, rescued the young lad from a swarm of angry bixies, and in that meeting, gave Twiddy his first taste of destiny.
While comforting the frightened child with pieces of jum-jum toast, the Drafling got to talking, and in his talking, revealed a thing or two about Twiddy's past and future.
"Tell me, why do you fear the water?" asked the Drafling, amid a cloud of sweet dragon smoke.
"When I was born I was swallowed up by Scratchbottom Pond!" said Twiddy, chewing the toast as he spoke. "If it were not for a kind mermaid, I would have drowned. She scooped me up and threw me onto the edge of the pond."
"Lasydia! That was Lasydia you were saved by. She's the queen of all mermaids. She must have swum down from the Nest. I hear she visits the frozen lakes of Norrath while on holiday." The Drafling nodded matter-of-factly. Behind him, the ogre grunted and tore a strip off a nearby tree.
"Lasydia!" said Twiddy, wide-eyed. "The queen of all mermaids? Do you think she might still be watching over me?"
"Ahh... No!" The Drafling shook his head. "That's a bit much to expect anyone to do out of the simple goodness of their heart. You know what though? You might be able meet up with her someday and do something nice for her, I bet then she would be there to save you from drowning for the rest of your life."
Twiddy jumped to his feet and came straight up to the Drafling, clasping his arm; the Drafling looking on with amusement at his boldness. "What can I do? Where can I find her? Will she come back to the pond?"
"Slow down, lad. It's not like Lasydia to venture here. I doubt she'll be back to this little vale. But you might be able to meet up with her at the Nest. Yep, that is your best bed, lad."
"Can you take me there? You are the Drafling and you can use your magic tower to get up and walk all the way to the Nest you speak of. Will you please take me?"
"Look, lad..." The Drafling pushed him away and turned around, trundling across the clearing in which they sat. "You're a good stout and all, but my tower is neither child proof nor leg advantaged. You'll have to get to the Nest on your own. It will be a long and dangerous trip. The Nest is hundreds of miles beyond the horizon, far into the wintry lands to the North. Good luck with that one, lad!"
"Please help me Mr. Drafling! I am just a child, and a cowardly one at that. I can't survive a trip to the frozen Northlands."
He turned back to the boy wearing a deep smile. "You are many things, Twiddy Bobick, but a coward you are not. Don't worry, lad. Lasydia won't be on holiday in the Nest for another ten years. You'll be a full grown stout by then. And I am sure you will make the journey then. As I am sure you will make many journeys in your life and do many great things. For now, be the child that you are and worry not about such things."
The Drafling blew a plume of sweet smelling smoke into the boy's face, and Twiddy faded into dreams, barely remembering the encounter until many years later when it would come for him to make that journey, though in those brief moments when he would remember it, he always stopped to wonder, "How did the Drafling know my name?"
When it came time for that journey to be made, the Drafling did not appear himself but rather sent his ogre companion, who still spent his time chewing on bark. The two travelled north, passing through lands belonging to elves and barbarians and all other manner of folk Twiddy had only ever seen in passing. They glimpsed the Elddar Forest in its final days, walking silently through dried out husks of what had once been the world's greatest wood and passing retreating groups of elven refugees, and they had met Fiddlewiz while in one of the last outposts of the elves off of Faydark. Along the way, Twiddy learned much about building a ship as he struggled to keep together their small ship. Battling gnolls and building ice shelters and dodging bloodthirsty clans of thanes, they finally reached the fabled pool, and waited many a long night for the mermaid queen to appear. Finally, in a mist, they caught sight of Lasydia at the highest point of Mermaid Rock.
"Who is it that comes to visit?" she asked with a voice that lilted like a haunting melody. "Why, it is the Scratchbottom newborn all grown up. What brings you to my holiday home?"
Twiddy mustered all his courage and glanced at the ogre, who nodded at him. "I have come to thank you for saving my life when I was born... with the hope that you can remove my fear of the water."
Taylisia smirked and even as she smirked, her face was enchanting to look upon. "Young halfling, you need not fear to drown. There is much below the surface of pond, lake, and ocean that is too beautiful to lose to fear."
Looking doubtful, young Twiddy frowned and said, "Please, the Drafling said you could help me."
"Listen little halfling, and listen well. I saved you only as a favor to that funny little man. It is not in my nature to play guardian to the creatures of the land, as there are too many below the water that need me." The mermaid drew closer to Twiddy, and as she drew out of the water, what had once been a fin became a pair of long, elegant legs. "The puffing man wishes you to fulfill your fate. Such a destiny would have been destroyed had I not stepped in, so I was happy to play my part, but would likely never even have noticed your presence had he not alerted me."
"Destiny? What destiny? This destiny? To come here? I've already done more than many of Rivervale dare to dream by coming here. But..." He looked at the mermaid sheepishly. "I can't help but hope there is more."
Lasydia smiled, and the smile was beautiful to behold. "Oh there is, there is. I do not know the full extent of your destiny, but you have completed it in part. You have earned your legs as an adventurer, and I do believe you'll find that all your troubles getting you here have helped you master the craft of shipbuilding. For all that will come, you are now far better prepared to face it. Let your odysseys begin."
With that, the mermaid queen jumped high and landed in the water, her legs gone and swapped once again for a green and gold scaled fin. In a flash, she was gone.
As Twiddy considered her words, the ogre gave him a cup of warm Mudtoe Mocha to drink, and from the smell of it, Twiddy could tell it was unlike anything he had ever drunk before. As his world began to spin, Twiddy asked the ogre, "What have you done to me?"
The ogre smiled, removed the bark from his mouth, and said, "You will know. You will know soon enough."
Twiddy Bobick awoke the next day home in his bed, gripping a cup of Mudtoe Mocha and filled with a desire to build. But not just anything, no, he would build a boat unlike any the world had seen -- one that would fly above the trees and the mountains and even the clouds. This was the destiny the mermaid had spoken of, the destiny the Drafling had meant for him, and he intended to see it made true.
And so Twiddy Bobick began to build.
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