Dilric's Quest: The Gnome Saga #2

By Charles G. Dyer

Gnomes live in hidden in underground Lodges. One such Lodge is struck by a toxic waste tragedy, caused by ignorant Humans.
The sole survivor, Dilric, faces a long and dangerous journey to find another Lodge. While trying to come to terms with the loss of his friends, wife and daughter, he faces many dangers.
Suffering from chemical burns, fatigue and inconsolable anguish Dilric is attacked and seriously wounded. From the depths of despair, he is hauled back on his feet by duty. He feels it is his duty to his lost friends and family to carry on. He also feels an ever-increasing desire to avenge their senseless deaths.
Will Dilric ever forgive the Humans? And, will he ever find comfort in a female companion again? His often-misguided intentions lead him into surprising situations...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Charles G. Dyer
• Release date: Sep 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311367907

Charles G. Dyer

Charles Dyer is a consulting engineer, former senior lecturer and former technical magazine editor. He creates 3D models to help with visualisation and realism in his writing.

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Dilric's Quest

The Gnome Saga #2

An Epic Romantic Fantasy

Charles G Dyer

Copyright © 2013 Charles G Dyer

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition

License

Thank you for purchasing this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are products of the author's imagination. It remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

It would be greatly appreciated if you could post a review on the site where you purchased this book. If you have any comments about this book, good or bad, you can write to me at [e-mail].

Other book in the series:

Troll Wars - The Gnome Saga #1

It and the rest of my books can be found at:

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/chas1951

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter_1

Chapter_2

Chapter_3

Chapter_4

Chapter_5

Chapter_6

Chapter_7

Chapter_8

Chapter_9

Chapter_10

Chapter_11

Chapter_12

Chapter_13

Chapter_14

Chapter_15

Chapter_16

Chapter_17

Chapter_18

Appendix

ABOUT_THE_AUTHOR

Prologue

In a fenced enclosure, near a small subterranean lake, a few dozen mice were nibbling at heaps of grain under the watchful eye of a mouseherd. Too old to play and too young to venture outside the lodge, he would perform this duty until another youngster took his place. The mice serve the Gnomes in the same way as cattle serve humans, as a source of meat, leather and sundry by-products.

Flanking the mouse pen were fields of cultivated moss, some of which extended into the enclosure and over the rocky banks of the pond to the water's edge. Beyond the fields of moss, mushrooms and other crops were several buildings that stood knee-high to a human. This was Kaunaz Lodge. Gnomes had established it when the nearby human city of Cuthwold was a medieval village. It was an average lodge with a population of fifty-six little souls.

A couple of young Gnome children were playing near the pond. The girl had a traditional tall green conical-shaped cap, a grey blouse with brown braid and a brown skirt.

The little boy's hat was similar to the girl's but it was bright red, a blue smock like a long-sleeved tee shirt and brown trousers. Both had flaxen hair and looked quite chubby and rosy-cheeked.

An old man came out of one of the houses and headed briskly towards the machinery on the pond. He lifted a panel to reveal a bank of switches and gauges. After peering at them for a while, with his bright grey eyes, he seemed to be satisfied and closed the panel. This was the life-blood of the Gnome lodge, a water purification plant that pumped potable water to each house and irrigated the fields.

The mouseherd called out, Are you off to the surface today?

Yes, Dovit I am and looking forward to it too. Is there anything you want me to bring back for you? The old fellow smiled inquiringly.

No thank you. Doesn't all that pollution bother you? Dovit asked.

Indeed it does and Fate knows what we can do about it. The Elders fear that it may soon creep into the lodge. That's part of what we do when we patrol. We monitor pollution levels and their effects on the area around the lodge.

I know what you do, I just wish that I were old enough to join you. The youth dejectedly tugged at the fringe of his brown hair. Streaks of grey were many years away and he knew that his hair would have to be almost white before he could join the patrols.

With a knowing smile and a departing wave, the old Gnome turned and wandered over to one of the fields, where the mushrooms reached his waist. There he checked on the flow of water and then walked towards the central row of buildings.

Dovit was left alone to watch his mice, not that they needed much attention. The sick were weeded out and there was little call for any husbandry. He spent most of his time rubbing tanned pelts into pliable leather.

On other days, after slaughtering and butchering, he would scrape the fur away and prepare the tanning bath. He was also responsible for making mouse jerky that would be carried by surface patrols.

Like most Gnomes, Dovit was concerned about the environment and especially the deterioration that was taking place due to the pollution from the human city. Between the chores of tending to the mice, he kept himself informed by reading the latest reports and established literature on the subject.

***

A sparsely wooded copse overlooked the sprawling urban metropolis of Cuthwold. It was covered in lush undergrowth, broken here and there by outcrops of sandstone rock. Several pine trees grew on the northern and eastern slopes. A few other types of trees dotted the other slopes and the undulating top of the hill. An onshore easterly wind blew a cool breeze to rustle through the trees and stroke the grass in waves. The smell of the sea was noticeable over the musty odour that rose from the leaves and needles rotting beneath the trees.

The hill formed a good observation platform in the centre of an undeveloped tract of land that had become an informal nature reserve. The vacant land had also become popular as a hiking trail for people to sweat out the stresses of city life. Despite the pollution of the city, the flora and fauna had found a balanced niche in this island of sanity.

The faint sound of a jet airliner passing high overhead was barely audible above the hum of traffic in the city. The aircraft left a fluffy white vapour trail that scarred an otherwise clear summer sky.

One of the outcropping rocks had a weathered split, which widened towards the base. The crack widened and deepened as it gradually spiralled into the earth. Deeper and deeper the crack penetrated under the hillside. The moist walls of the tunnel glistened with reflected distant light.

The tunnel opened into a large cavern illuminated by an artificial sun. This 'sun' provided light and just enough ultraviolet radiation to maintain the balance of physiological requirements of the Gnomes. It also ensured that the crops cultivated were nutritious and looked perfectly natural.

The walls were whitish grey and gave the illusion of being clouds, especially where irregular darker patches contrasted with the whites and pale greys of the rock. Here and there, crystalline structures of various minerals that had been reshaped by millions of years of overburden pressure showed through the greys as little splashes of colour.

***

Far south of the Kaunaz Lodge, on the fringes of Cuthwold city the huge yards of Multikov Chemicals were filled with pipes, cables, valves and a maze of catwalks. White-coated technicians, wearing yellow earmuffs, scurried between banks of gauges and sets of switches. Periodically steam whistled from a pressure release valve with a high-pitched shriek. An endless stream of trucks moved in and out of the complex, delivering raw materials and dispatching finished products.

There were factories, warehouses, laboratories, stores with hazardous materials warning signs and a highly visible security guard presence. The whole awesome labyrinth was surrounded by a triple security fence, which had a three-metre high outer barbed wire barrier enclosing a run for packs of Rottweilers. Inside this obstacle was an electrified fence that literally hummed with latent energy.

Despite safety measures, there was always a leak or a spill somewhere that let foul smelling odours out. Most people that worked in the complex were used to these minor irritations, but visitors often sneezed or complained about the stench.

Near the well-guarded entrance was an opulent office block, faced with a variety of different polished granites. Although it was early evening and the roads outside the complex were filled with homebound traffic, the work inside went on uninterrupted. All the lights in the office block were burning. As the sunlight faded, the forest of floodlights illuminated the industrial jungle, making it look even more sinister than it did in daylight.

The core of the office block had an enclosed atrium filled with rare exotic plants, which somehow looked at home in the surreal surroundings. Overlooking the weird plants, tinted picture windows hid an earnest meeting. The managing director and the operations manager were stooped over piles of reports, looking worried.

They had been deliberating how to deal with new industrial legislation, which imposed further restrictions on the disposal of toxic waste products. Many of the crucial operations of the corporation generated toxic waste. The restrictions were going to place severe strains on their resources and cut profit margins to unacceptable levels.

The expectations of the shareholders have to be met by any public company. If the management does not perform satisfactorily then the shareholders will replace them with others that will. Those are the simple facts of a capitalist society.

The two managers had been together for twenty odd years of hard work. They had applied honest labour to build Multikov from a small factory into a giant billion-dollar corporation. Neither of them wanted to be turned out into the street over a new law.

Reluctantly they agreed that the only way to continue to satisfy the shareholders would be to dump the toxic waste illegally. After much soul-searching, they decided to call in Shorty Stokes. He was an ex-convict they had hired a few years previously. Stokes had turned out to be quite loyal and reliable.

A short while later, the secretary admitted a stocky red-haired man in a security guard's uniform. Stokes had a quick mind and soon understood the problem. However, he was reluctant to get involved in any criminal activity. He assured them that he would arrange for drivers and other key personnel to do the work, but he did not want to be implicated in the operation.

Stokes further surprised them with a suggestion that the toxic materials from other similarly affected companies might be bought and added to Multikov's waste in order to make it more difficult to trace the origins of the chemicals.

Both executives listened intently as Stokes unfolded a plan, which they believed to be foolproof. Stokes would reconnoitre the countryside on the northern side of town for a suitable dumpsite. Once a site was found and an area of the yard was secured for the temporary storage of the waste materials, then the operation could begin. Stokes estimated that would take a few days to set up.

~#~

Chapter 1

The old Gnome strolled between the buildings of Kaunaz Lodge until he arrived at one with a plain green door. After knocking, he entered. Another old man greeted him, Hello, Dilric, how are you today?

Both old men were wearing the same style and colour of clothing as the boy and the mouseherd. Dilric smiled from under his white beard, I am well and ready to see the sun. I trust that you are well too, Alex. He waited politely for a reply, although he was anxious to conclude the business.

Yes thanks I'm fine. You probably want your helmet. Well don't just stand there, give me your cap. I've checked the helmet electronics and the PC. Everything is working perfectly. The others are all equipped and are waiting for you at the hall. Alex handed over the camouflaged helmet and the portable computer. Together, these would be Dilric's link between the world above and the world below, for the duration of the Surface Exploration Patrol, fondly known as a SEP.

The Gnome's portable computer provides him with an array of functions, which would be the envy of any human counterpart. Most communications take place by verbal instructions through the helmet interface and some specific keystrokes. The Gnome PC has a runic symbol keyboard, which covers two thirds of its face. The remainder is dedicated to a high-resolution colour display screen. Powered by a tiny electro-nuclear battery with an indefinite life-span, the computer is never switched off.

This rugged machine is shockproof, waterproof and requires no maintenance at all. It is hinged to fold closed when not being directly used. When it is in the satchel, it can still be used through the helmet interface.

Although it is capable of operating entirely independently, the Gnome PC is linked to a central database at the home lodge. This link provides the lodge with a constant feedback on the Gnomes location and activities as well as information he passes on. In turn, the database provides the Gnome with virtually instant access to the entire accumulated knowledge of the Gnome species.

In the unlikely event of a break in communications with the home lodge, the Gnome PC has a carefully selected database of knowledge, which should be sufficient to guide the Gnome to the home lodge and deal with any emergencies on the way.

All of this and more is contained in a box, which is less than a quarter of the size of a human credit card when open and thinner than half the width of a normal pencil. When folded, it reduces to a square box that is smaller than the average human thumbprint. It fits neatly into the satchel with room for several other items.

The runic symbols on the keyboard were deliberately chosen to confuse any human cryptographer that might get hold of a Gnome PC. In fact, the keys are almost a red herring anyway. The primary interface is through the helmet. Each PC is tuned for voice recognition of the dedicated Gnome user. The Gnome PC is therefore useless to anyone but the Gnome for whom it was made.

As a final guard against technology theft, it will self-destruct if given more than a pre-determined number of instructions by an unauthorised user.

Goodbye Alex, look after my wife while I'm gone, but don't spoil her you hear. The two Gnomes shook hands solemnly and parted.

Dilric went into two more stores. Finally, fully decked out in a camouflage suit, helmet and backpack partially filled with provisions, he walked over to the hall in the centre of the village, with his thorngun slung over his shoulder, a knife in its sheath on his belt and a hiking staff in his hand.

The thorngun is essentially a weapon of subterfuge. It was designed for deployment against enemies such as humans and large predators, with the intention of concealment as its secondary objective. Shaped and textured like a twig, this ingenious weapon is capable of firing projectiles that are shaped like thorns. Should the enemy spot the thorn before its powerful paralysing drug takes effect, they will think that they had brushed up against a nasty bush, rather than thinking that they were under attack.

The thorn is rifled with flutes that stabilise its trajectory and it is hollow with a tiny wax cap. An impact plunger forces the drug instantly into the bloodstream of the target. The gun itself is fabricated from a lightweight composite material and can be loaded with five thorns. Even the trigger, which is pressed with the thumb, is shaped like a branch. So the chances of any human seeing a thorngun for what it is are minimal. The firing mechanism is a classified secret. It is the product of a technology that is beyond human comprehension. The sound produced on firing is quieter than a casual sniff and would only be audible to the human ear a few arm's lengths away.

The drug, Humpar, is a very fast acting anaesthetic, which completely immobilises the victim for a short duration of time. Eight to ten minutes for humans and more than double that for dogs and cats. On awakening, the victim will have no memory of the attack. Usually the target will still be standing, so he will think that he suffered a momentary blackout and no alarms will be raised.

The thorngun has graduated twigs, on top of the barrel at the front and back, which serve as sights. The accuracy of this remarkable weapon is phenomenal. Obviously, wind affects any projectile, so these comments refer to calm weather performance. Given the small mass and dimensions of the thorn, it is a tribute to Gnome technology that the thorn can consistently hit targets at distances of twenty-five human paces and it has a relatively flat trajectory.

Seven rows of eight seats, like the pews in a church filled the hall, facing a long table. Behind the table sat four Gnome Elders dressed in the traditional red-blue-brown combination. In the front row of seats, three other Gnomes fidgeted with their helmets and gear.

One of the Elders looked up and said, Alright, Dilric is here, now to business. Firstly, the items that need to be collected while on this SEP have been loaded into the note page on your computers. Secondly, we don't expect any trouble on this expedition, but you should patrol the southwest quadrant to check on human activity. The Elder looked at each patrol member in turn and went on, You all have done this before, some of you have hundreds of years of experience, but remember that hasty incautious behaviour kills. Follow procedures, check your equipment, keep your distances from each other and avoid contact with all other creatures. Freeze, if an animal sees you, then activate the holograph and it will probably go away or lose interest and allow you to back off. Keep your helmets on, they muffle your voices and keep us informed of your situation. Remember to activate the holographic projectors whenever you break cover, you never know when some human is scanning the countryside with a telescope. There is no urgency in this mission so you have plenty of time to cover your tracks. Before re-entering the lodge, make sure that you check each other for parasites. Over to you, Gyrth.

The helmet would put human astronauts and fighter pilots to shame. It is linked to the Gnome PC via a wireless connection of unknown technology. An electro-nuclear battery also supplies the power for the helmet.

The increasing sophistication of human electronics and surveillance equipment practically forced the Gnomes to develop an ingenious holographic projection device. It renders them virtually invisible. The device is built into the helmet, in the form of four cameras. These constantly record the images around the Gnome, when required, and then alternate as holographic projectors. The holographic projectors produce a virtual ring of holograms, around the Gnome, of the images on the opposite side.

To a keen human observer, a Gnome walking past would present a very small slightly shimmering mirage effect. The human probably would think that his eyes were playing tricks on him and dismiss the event without further thought. The only Archilles heel in the system is that there is no screening effect from directly above. Gnomes are in any case well-advised to keep their distance from humans.

When the Gnome PC is stowed away, it is still accessible through the helmet interface and the screen display is duplicated (if required) in a dedicated sector of the HUD (heads-up display). The helmet also provides protection from falling objects such as acorns, etc. More importantly, it is equipped with earphones and a microphone linked to the Gnome PC, which is either strapped around the waist or kept in the backpack. The visor shields the Gnome's eyes from ultra-violet and other radiation and has filters, which highlight infrared beams. The cameras provide the wearer with 360 vision, by displaying a continuous set of images at the top of the visor.

The matte finish to the camouflaged surface prevents telltale reflections from revealing the Gnome. A low sweeping back covers the neck to maximise protection from attacks from behind. The ridging that houses the holographic camera system also provides structural rigidity and extra protection from falling objects.

Thank you Eustace, said Gyrth. He is the Gnome Elder who specialised in combat and weapons. Keep your ears open and make sure that the helmet amplifier is functioning properly. Watch the birds, they will usually give you your first warning about large threats. Feel the vibrations through your feet. You'll often feel a presence before the birds do. Never drop your guard, there is always a possible threat behind the next bush or around the next corner. If you're not expecting trouble, it will find you. Be ready at all times to use whatever you are carrying as a first line of defence. I know you're all experienced with staff combat, but don't forget that the staff, knife and sword allow the enemy to get really close. Take advantage of technology and use the thorngun, nothing can resist that drug, so why put yourself at risk. Have the voice activation command on your lips for the toe-spikes, they are pretty lethal when you kick a spider or scorpion and do enough damage to rodents to send most of them packing.

Edwy, the third of the Elders took his cue from Gyrth tilting his head in his direction. While you're out there bear in mind what the girls say, 'avoid red, dead or furry plants,' unless you know that it's safe. Anyway use your computers when in doubt, that's what they're for, to provide you with instant information. Fish in slow-moving water probably are full of tapeworm, so leave them alone. Insects on carrion, dung or refuse are taboo and bright colours on insects are a warning with good cause. Happy hunting and if you haven't tried it before don't try it now. Hereberd will wrap it up now.

Everyone had been listening intently, as though hearing the homilies for the first time. In fact, they had all heard every word dozens of times before. These were life and death matters, which Gnomes took very seriously, now all heads turned expectantly to look at Hereberd.

Although not completely visible because of the respective headgears, every Gnome had a head full of white hair and a full downy white beard. They all had similar countenances, with rosy round cheeks, wrinkles around their eyes and foreheads furrowed with age. Their eyes were brown or green and had a twinkle of mischief. Not Hereberd though, his eyes were black, his nose was hawkish and his cheeks were not so much round as angular. Despite being the oldest of the gathering, he had seen some 450 years of life, he had a smooth forehead except for the frown furrow between his eyebrows. If you did not know him as a friendly and helpful priest and sorcerer, you might be forgiven for thinking that he had a sinister air about him.

Electronic gadgets have not supplanted our old magic, they have enhanced the efficacy. Now almost anyone can access magic through a few simple strokes of the keyboard runes or even more simply by uttering the correct runic phrase through the helmet interface. The electronically enhanced magic is not quite as good as pure sorcery but it is better than none. For those of you with poor memories, calling out 'Wyrd, Wyrd, Wyrd' or stroking the blank key thrice, will summon a heads-up display of all the quick spells or magic charms you might need. The Magic Charms have served us well since time immemorial and there is no reason to lose faith in them now. A well-placed appropriate spell is far better than resorting to staff combat, because it can be executed from a far greater distance. If you see any henbane or wolfbane, please bring as much as you can. Good luck and be careful. Hereberd managed a smile of farewell.

The two parties exchanged handshakes, then the camouflaged group walked down the aisle and out of the door without further ado. They had already said their goodbyes to the other Gnomes in the lodge, so they walked enthusiastically towards the exit on the far side of the pond.

They all waved a farewell to Dovit who was waving his red pointed hat over his head and shouting, I hope that Fate is kind to you all.

As they entered the tunnel the lead Gnome, Wulfric, called out, Kaunaz, the runic spell for light. A magical light illuminated their way to the surface, a journey that took a full five minutes to complete.

Near the entrance, when the glow of daylight became visible, the spell was called again to disable it. As the magical light faded the Gnomes spread out more, then stopped. Wulfric switched on his holographic projection system and cautiously edged forward. He had to get down on his hands and knees for the final part, which was barely big enough for a rabbit. In an instant he moved to the left under a small shrub and systematically scanned the surroundings before giving the all clear signal, Alright boys, one at a time.

Next to emerge was Thorulf who went straight to a clump of heather on the opposite side of the clearing. He too carefully scanned the area from his different perspective and then issued his clearance, Party time, Sigeric would you care to join us.

The same ritual was repeated with Sigeric who came straight out of the cave to stop in tufts of grass about twice the distance away from the first two Gnomes. Finally, Dilric came out to breathe the distinctly different air and bathe himself in real sunlight once again.

Sigeric waited until Dilric was in position and then started climbing a tree. Gripping the bark hand over hand and kicking his boot spikes in, leg over leg, he scaled the tree with ease born of a few hundred years practice. About three quarters of the way up, he stopped, sat on a limb. A small cylindrical object about the size of a cigarette butt was retrieved from his tunic pocket. He carefully inserted into a hole, which had been used many times before.

This tubular gadget was an essential part of the global positioning system (GPS). It was the relay station between the home lodge and the Gnomes in the field for both the GPS and the communications systems. The exposed end was camouflaged to look like a dead twig and as such would be of no interest to any human that might climb the tree.

Instead of climbing down, Sigeric looped a rope over the limb. He fitted a device to it and holding the device in his right hand, with the other end of the rope wrapped around his left wrist and hand. Then he swung off the branch and was on the ground in an instant. He coiled up the rope, which was actually a very fine thread of strong synthetic material, then said, Done, we're ready to ramble.

The group of Gnomes immediately set off in a southwesterly direction. They maintained a diamond formation, which had been developed during the Troll Wars. They would kill two birds with one stone, by foraging for the much-needed herbs, minerals and other essentials and investigating human activity at the same time.

The ground rose up to a level platform formed by a large gravelled turning circle. A few decades ago, it had been the favourite haunt of teenaged lovers. The new generation of human adolescents had more sophisticated ways of entertaining themselves. They were no longer interested in the romantic vistas and stolen moments of passion, enjoyed by their parents. Practically no humans used this road any more. Nature was quickly reclaiming the borrowed ground. It was covered with grasses and various forms of plant life. In several places, the burrows of moles and other little creatures had loosened the hard-packed gravel.

The expedition paused on the edge of the gravel track for a general survey of the area they were about to patrol. Being the highest point of the copse, it was the most natural observation point. However, it was also the most exposed, so the holographic projectors were turned on, presenting the world at large with a shimmering illusion. The only telltale sign being the shadows cast by the Gnomes. It was hoped that those could be interpreted as hollows in the ground by a distant observer, if there was one. The panorama was systematically described for the benefit of the Gnomes at the lodge who would be listening and recording every move and report of the SEP.

The little beings stood there making verbal notes for a quarter of an hour. Then they moved on down the hill along the edge of the track. About 200 metres from the crest, the road curved sharply to the right and to the north, away from their area of operations. They kept going straight, their path would beat a criss-cross pattern over an area of about eight kilometres square, roughly six and a half hectares. Two thirds of the patrol area was uninhabited. The remainder was a sub-economic region of the urban fringe, with some light industrial zones.

The whole expedition was expected to take six days to cover the forty-kilometre pattern. Gnomes average about seven kilometres in a twelve hour day when patrolling. They seldom stop to rest but will linger in an area rich with items on their shopping list. They will of course rest for the night on this type of patrol, where daylight is needed for monitoring human business.

To nobody in particular Sigeric said, I prefer clandestine operations where we move about in the dark, even with these helmets and things, I still feel more comfortable sleeping during the day.

An anonymous, Hmm! confirmed that he was not alone with this sentiment.

Wyrd, Wyrd, Wyrd, Dilric called up a HUD display.

An anxious Thorulf asked, What's wrong?

Nothing, I just wanted to look up a Magic Charm. We should have a few working for us.

Well warn us next time, you got me all excited for nothing, Wulfric chided.

Sigeric, the most nervous of the platoon, agreed with Dilric, We should each call on a different charm to maximise our protection, I'll do the Courage Charm. After a short pause he called out, Teiwaz, to activate the Magic Charm of Courage.

Dilric said, May the Fates be kind to us, I will summon the Magic Charm of Fate, Pertho.

Thorulf simply barked, Isa. Into his helmet to protect the little band with the Magic Charm of Power.

We could do with a little comforting, so my choice is, Wunjo, the Charm of Comfort. Wulfric concluded the supernatural interlude.

For humans, the terrain would be easily surveyed. Most vegetation being knee-high grasses and shrubs with isolated trees. The Gnome's perspective of this kind of scrubland is equivalent to a jungle for humans. Their sight distance is equal to a few human paces and they have to proceed with extreme caution. The technique they have developed comprises darting quickly from one tuft of grass or shrubbery to the next. They paused momentarily at each object that afforded any degree of cover and checked the area as they went. Even when they are effectively made invisible, by the holographic projection systems of their helmets, they use this method.

Each team member is often out of sight of the rest of the group. However, they retain their formation spacing fairly consistently by using the GPS system displayed in the HUD of their helmets. This shows their positions relative to one another, as well as geographic location.

A gentle breeze rustled the grass as the Gnomes, with their staves at the ready, looked for signs of recent activity. Although experience had proved that no raptors occupy this territory, they still looked up periodically on the off chance that some opportunistic passing bird did not catch them by surprise. None of them remained quiet for long. They kept each other and the home base informed with a constant flow of chatter.

Just stepped over a ant trail, Thorulf said.

Peering at the tracks in the dirt, Wulfric said, Looks like a field mouse passed this way.

Ugh, trust me to stand in that. Why can't rabbits bury their dung? Dilric called out.

Sigeric reported the first find of the day, Hereberd will be pleased, I've just found some henbane. Won't be long, I'll catch up as soon as I've got it in my pack.

Thorulf shouted excitedly, Stop! We might have trouble. There's a man's footprint, pointing west. Looks like its fairly fresh and he is either fat or carrying some heavy gear.

I can confirm that, there's one here too, Wulfric said in a quiet tone of voice.

Sigeric said, Alright, we'll abandon the pattern and follow him. This is what we're out here for.

A moment later he continued, Stow the staves, this is now thorngun territory. Look sharp everybody.

Dilric examined the tracks closely and noted, If this breeze has been constant today, I'd say the man is half an hour to an hour ahead of us. But we don't know where he is headed, so let's not blunder into him.

Serious reports mingled with banter as they followed the trail of human footprints, broken shrubs and bent grass.

Wonder what he's up to? Wulfric asked.

Most likely just hiking for exercise. Thorulf volunteered a possible reason.

Dilric negotiated his way around heaps of soil, Quite a bit of mole diggings here.

Sigeric mused over another possibility, Let's hope he's not a land surveyor, staking the place for more housing estates.

Thorulf argued against that idea, I doubt it, this area is probably safe from normal development for some time to come. Their environmentalists would prance around in protest for ages and stall any progress indefinitely.

Hmm, I can't think why humans are so stupid. They build towns on arable land and protect dead ground where nothing useful will grow, Dilric observed.

It's all about their favourite vice, money. Thank goodness we aren't hampered by such a millstone, Sigeric replied.

Wulfric called in the change, These tracks are turning northwest now. What's he up to?

Perhaps he wasn't paying attention to a landmark or something and it's just a course adjustment. Thorulf explained with what he thought was a logical assumption.

Dilric noticed that there were two sets of tracks. He's not alone. There's at least two of them. Fatty's tracks just moved closer to his companion, who is either also fat or carrying a load. They're both wearing the same style of boot, but the new fellow has a bigger foot.

Wulfric checked his HUD and saw that Dilric was not moving, Keep in formation Dilric, you're trailing a bit.

Yes, so I see. I was just checking the tracks, he replied.

Thorulf came across some corpses, Huh, don't often see that. The wasp and spider fight ended up with both of them dead. Not sorry for either of them, but I would rather tackle a spider than a wasp, any day.

Wulfric agreed, Me too, I hate flying things, especially when they are as wicked as wasps.

Sigeric chipped in, Bees are fine as long as you leave them alone.

Dilric was quick to contradict him, Oh no they're not! A swarm once attacked me when I was sleeping. They surely couldn't have seen a sleeping Gnome as a threat to their queen.

Sigeric changed the subject, "At least one of these humans is carrying something