“Gnomes! Why are they always so stupid!?” Tom rang out in despair.

“Hey! Not all of us are stupid! You’re a Gnome too, you blasted moron!” Stuffy rang out with fierce indignation.

“Maybe this plan of yours was just dumb! Did you stop to think of that?”

“If shit-for-brains had waited for my signal, the machine would have been activated while the Flayer was in range and not 5 meters out! I say again, Gnomes. Are. Stupid!” Tom retorted, not being lost on the fact that he seemingly just called himself stupid.

Tom sat back, idly watching his group of “Bandit” Gnomes fail at a terribly well planned, but horribly executed ambush attempt on a full-grown Mind Flayer. This ambush took two days to plan, along with a sizable sum of money, materials and manpower to set up. Mind Flayers were never approachable or reasonable unless you had a crate of brains for it to devour. Insatiable hunger drove them to a near insanity in the eyes of most sentient beings. Problems occurred often with Mind Flayers in this region, they are very strong when compared to the wimpy Gnomes and VERY hostile. Taking down this Flayer would be worth a fortune to the traveling traders and scholars.

Too bad Tom depended on the merits of Gnomes. Not that he had any choice in the matter, he was stuck in the Gnome Realm since those idiot Humans locked away the Great and Wonderful Mother of Destruction.

In the wake of his entire bandit party being dismembered and sucked dry from the skull down, Tom decided it was finally time to withdraw with his “Friend” Stuffyping Wizzleboom to the city for a new plan of action.

Stuffyping was an inventor in a long line of inventors amongst the Gnomes, widely regarded as one of the greatest minds of his time. This isn’t saying much, considering how stupid Gnomes were in Tom’s opinion. But, you worked with what you had around here, and Stuffyping was all that Tom had.

Stuffyping was the reason that Tom was wearing three rings of different metals. Each ring was tinged with a very slight magic still left from days long gone. These rings not only made Tom appear as a fully-grown Gnome, but mimicked any Gnome so thoroughly that you could never tell the difference without peering at him in the Magic Sight.

Considering that the Magic Sight kind of required magic, that meant only Gods or finely tuned items could pierce his costume. Of course, Stuffy had no idea that he had once owned the rings. Tom took care of that little detail the moment the rings were completed. As far as Stuffy knew, Tom was his oldest friend and the inspiration behind all his good ideas.

Heading back into the city was not the long arduous process that most other Realms suffered on long travels. Dwarves and Gnomes were never to be outdone on working very hard to find ways that would allow them to be VERY lazy. Tinkerspike Everready invented flying machines for just these kinds of travels. Tom and Stuffy were currently headed back to Small Sprocket.

Stuffy stared quizzically towards Tom, “Seeing people get their brains sucked out of their skulls never seems to bother you Tom. Have you grown so cold that you don’t’ even care about bandits?”

“If they were better bandits, they wouldn’t all be dead. I care more about the loss of revenue than I do the loss of life. Fuck em’!” Tom said with a “This matter is closed” tone.

The rest of the ride back to Stuffy’s lab was quiet and without incident. As they arrived at the shop, the big iron doors slowly opened and allowed them to land inside. Gizmos and gadgets filled every inch of the space in the shop where there were complicated scientific formulas and beakers full of random materials. Even their beds were piled with junk that Stuffy insisted were “inventions”. Tom had no doubt that the inventor turned accomplice would eventually figure him out for what he really was, but it would be awhile.

Stuffy sat at his customary seat and spoke back to Tom softly, “Would you mind trimming me up a bit, my hair is getting to a point that it’s tickling my ears while I’m trying to work.”

“Certainly, I’ll be right over!” Tom replied with way too much gusto.

As Tom approached Stuffy, his hands quickly morphed into something more akin to claws with razor sharp fingers. Tentacles sprouted from his head and slowly wrapped around the old man’s cranium. Tom, was a Mind Flayer of the highest caliber in this realm. He had survived for so long because of his abnormalities and intelligence. Saving one brain for consumption repeatedly was far more efficient that gorging yourself on a mass of them and hoping to find another victim when you were hungry again. That sort of logic was left to the hopelessly stupid Flayers that roamed the lands, not for the ancient being he was.

It was however, with its own risks. If found out, Tom would certainly be hunted down and destroyed. Tom’s routine was methodical and effective, refined for thousands of years. He would pick the being with the tastiest brain, eat enough to sustain his body and remove any memories of the act before slowly and carefully re-sealing the wound sites. When the target woke up in the morning, it would only remember passing out at some point and waking with a headache. Tom created a potion long ago that would restore brain tissue, but he was far to selfish to share that formula with any of his dumb ass species. After all, while he may be more intelligent, most of his kind were far more capable with their mental abilities. Losing those abilities seemed to have removed all sanity from them.

So, Tom began his feast, recalling the day’s events and failures, he really hated Gnomes. Trying to find a way to nullify Flayers was the goal of every inventor worth a damn in this realm since the fall of magic. During the war that placed so many of his kind on this side of the barrier, he had been abandoned for dead during one of the Gnomes Mega Blast experiments. His lesser psionic abilities worked in his favor this time, the mechanically altered magic that decimated Flayer brains had far less of an impact on him and he survived. Explosions aside, nearly 90% of the Flayers died from the sheer volume of mental energy released in that explosion, left only with the youngest and weakest of his kind…and him.

By this point, Tom was stitching up his Gnome “Friend” and replacing what would be vivid recollection of a Flayer assault with one of debauchery and drinking, which lead to passing out and gaining a newfound headache. Stuffy was conveniently known as an alcoholic, so this worked well in Tom’s favor.

Laying Stuffy down on his side, the old Gnome looked pale as chalk. This nearly doll like appearance was not typical of a Flayer attack, considering that most of them left nothing but an empty husk and ripped in half skull. It appeared more like a near wooden carving of a sickly Gnome. Tom had to go downstairs to get the potion that would assist in regenerating the brain, and there were assistants down there. He slipped his ring back on and started to head downstairs when all the devices in the lab either stopped working or started behaving strangely.

He stopped dead in his tracks, feeling a presence behind him. It may have been over 1000 years, but Tom knew that feeling all too well, magic!