Excerpt from Alexan’s Seventh Journal, Tour of the Small and the Strange.

The worst places to stay, without exception, are Gnomish cities that barely ever have to worry about outsiders.

It’s not that they aren’t friendly. They double down on their friendliness and their attempts to be accommodating. That’s not the problem at all.

The problem is the space.

Unnamed Talkarn

The three-petal gate closed behind them with a quiet series of clicking latches.

"No squeak?" Perkay asked.

"Not since your last visit," the guide replied cheerfully from her perch on Nolsa’s arm.

"Let's go, I could use a sit down," Perkay complained, heading in.

Tal was used to seeing Gnomish tunnels and balconies on the buildings around him.

He wasn't used to seeing it in reverse.

The Heart had been the only civilized place he’d seen without all the usual concessions made for the tiny companions of the Erlkin, and even in the Heart the lesser buildings still seemed to have some elevated paths. Hidden tunnels, recessed stairways, and elevated balconies: steps were always taken to allow the Gnomes to stay safely above the floor and its potential for unfortunate missteps.

The Twist was the first time Tal had seen that way of doing things be inverted.

The walls were stacked with relatively tiny houses, each of them with their own balcony and a stairwell linking all the levels. And there were so many of them! Upon first hearing about it, Tal had thought the Twist might be a hidden little house with a handful of Gnomes.

That wasn’t the case at all.

There were as many Gnomes here as there were in any of the villages within the barrier surrounding Hollow Home; this place was just sized right for them. With buildings squeezed together and even some hanging from the roof with decks dangling beneath, Tal had never seen so many Gnomes in one tight little place.

And they were all staring at him. Adults and children both had come out onto all those balconies and decks, or stuck their heads out windows to see him.

Tal felt like his skin was prickling with all the eyes on him.

"Are there any healers?" Tal asked. "Easil is wind burnt."

Layessa popped her head over the edge of the rucksack. "He is stable, but it is quite bad. We should see to him before anything else.

Their guide didn't hesitate. "Easily done! Matta! Hey Matta!"

"What?" Another voice shouted back, another head popping out of one of the many tiny windows.

"Get Lanna! We got some windburn here! Pretty bad too!"

"Oh, that's not good! Okay! We'll see ya at the mansion!"

"Don't make me wait!"

"I don't want my pants lit on fire!"

"Talk like that and it'll happen anyways!"

"Can't hear you," the voice of Matta faded as he retreated into his home.

"Might I ask your name?" Nolsa said to their guide as she settled back into her comfortable spot in the crook of Nolsa’s arm.

"Of course, I am Weldy, and I am an old friend of this goat," the Gnomish woman teased.

"Who are you callin' a goat?" Perkay complained.

"The crankiest person I know," Weldy replied without hesitation.

Perkay grunted.

"There is the guest mansion!" Weldy said brightly.

At the end of the corridor, squeezed by more tiny houses and balconies, was a hut.

"And a comfortable mansion it is," Perkay agreed without hesitation. He had to duck as he pushed the door open and stepped through.

It was a very cozy little house.

The kitchen table could seat two with standing room for a third. Two bedrooms were little more than closets. Finally, a small stairwell at the end of a narrow hallway led to a latrine with flowing water to sweep away any ‘debris’.

Tal didn’t know where he was going to sleep.

There was a Gnomish room as well, of course, but it barely had room for a larger visitor. There was a small bench built into the wall that provided a place to sit, but the rest of the room consisted of three levels of Gnomish guest rooms. Perhaps the fanciest feature was how all the rooms had sliding wall sections that residents could open or close their rooms depending on their current desire for privacy.

Tal sat on the bench, feeling as if he was going to fall off the narrow excuse for a chair.

The center level was open now. Easil rested in the guest bed, with Layessa standing at the rail closest to Tal. Seated next to Easil was a Gnomish man with black hair and what must have been his daughter. The pair of them had pale grey eyes, typical of Gnomes who lacked an aspected seed.

The pair of them were carefully circulating aether through Easil: from his head, through his chest, to his hands.

Layessa turned to Tal. “You can rejoin them in the kitchen, I’ll let you know the moment Easil wakes up.”

Tal sighed, then replied, “Thank you Layessa.”

He stood and moved sideways out of the room and backed out. He grabbed the handle of the door and pulled, dragging it out of its recessed slot and sliding it closed as Tal departed.

A couple short steps and he was in the kitchen.

Perkay had made himself comfortable and started pulling the gear out of his backpack. Nolsa was standing at the counter, maintaining a small fireball under a little metal pot. Next to her on the limited counter sat a teapot and a trio of ceramic cups.

Tal sat down at the remaining chair to see what Perkay was doing.

What the old Erlkin was doing was carving a gemfruit pit. With a small knife that drank light, he carefully shaved away the spikes, slowly revealing the crystalline innards of the pit.

On the table sat the gauntlets he’d been wearing before, along with another glove: a singular left hand glove with a wooden disk on the palm and a plate on the back. His pouches sat on the table unopened with the sheathed dagger sitting on top of them. Three pits that looked suspiciously like the ones Nolsa had been holding onto sat on the table. They were in the middle of the goggles Tal had been wearing.

There was a bundle of wands, each made of a different sort of wood, seven in total. Six for the elements, and then one that seemed to be all six colours twisted together. There was a pack of small wrapped squares that was probably nothing but preserved food. Huddled against the stack of wands was the shadow hawk that was the Sentinel, although now that Tal was staring at it, there was something off about its feathers.

The last item was a box that must have filled the rest of the old Erlkin’s backpack. Heavy and thick with bands of different elemental woods, the box had hinges made with actual metal, gold even, something Tal didn’t see often at all. It was the fanciest case Tal had ever seen. It was sitting on its side and pushed against the wall of the kitchen.

“What is that?” Tal asked as he got comfortable, tapping on the box.

“My last resort,” Perkay answered, not looking away from where he was whittling away slivers from the pit.

“Is it dangerous?”

“Nah, just disruptive,” Perkay replied, setting down the black knife and the pit. “Wanna see what it is?”

Tal just stared at Perkay.

The craftsman laughed and dragged the box over to himself. He set it down and popped the latches on the front, opening it up without a sound.

“Hey, what?” Nolsa sputtered as her little fire died.

“Just disruptive,” Perkay repeated, pulling out a club of twisted wood. The wood was grey, with streaks of deep brown. The thing was twisted and curved with a heavy knurl of wood on the end.

And the moment Perkay had pulled it out of the box, the wood had started to absorb all the aether in the room. The old male quickly tucked it back in the box and slapped the thing shut.

“Gnarl wood?” Nolsa asked as she turned around.

“Yup, core wood too,” Perkay replied with a bit of pride.

“Where did you get that?” Nolsa asked, approaching the table.

“I didn’t get it. The Gnomes had it,” Perkay replied. “I made them a box to hide the thing without suckin’ the life from anyone, and they just let me keep it since they couldn’t use it anyways.”

“Is Gnarl wood rare?” Tal asked.

“Not terribly, outside the tree,” Nolsa replied. “It shows up commonly in a number of the old journals. It’s just one of the very rare types of wood that doesn’t grow in the Hollow Home.”

“Oh, it grows here,” Perkay argued, “But it absorbs too much mana, too quickly to remain Gnarl wood. It quickly turns into a regular pinyon tree, then it grows delicious nuts! Doesn’t seem to like water much though.

“And that… club hasn’t turned into regular wood?” Tal asked.

“It might have, if it wasn’t kept away from heavy sources of mana,” Perkay said with a shrug. “But for a piece of wood to be this thirsty, it must have come from the heart of a truly massive Gnarl tree, maybe from the Dead Forest.”

“Dead Forest? Is that a place?” Tal wondered.

Perkay nodded. “It is, I read about it! A whole forest of Gnarl wood where you won’t find a drop of mana. Must be a boring place.”

“That’s one place I never wanted to visit,” Nolsa commented, going back to heating her little pot of water.

“Me neither. Anyways! Take this, Tal,” Perkay changed the subject, handing Tal the single glove. “Put it on and then take the dumb bird.”

“Uhhh,” Tal didn’t really know how to reply to that, but he did as he was told. He pulled the glove onto his hand, taking a moment to look at it once it was on. Tal flexed and gripped once his hand was seated in the glove. He could feel the familiar weight of dark mana from the black wooden plate now on the back of his hand.

More impressive was the disk of wood on the palm. A complex, geometric knot of six types of wood all twisted together.

Tal could barely start before Perkay continued. “Nolsa tells me you are good at channelling aether. Put that disk on the back of the bird and feed the glove aether. That’ll recharge the bird so you can chat.”

“All six types of mana?” Tal asked, tracing his finger around the complicated knots. “The sentinel felt like all dark mana.”

“Dark mana to hold it together, sure,” Perkay explained. “But if you want a semblance of life, you need all the elements. The Sentinel creates bodies to search for the chosen, but if it can’t get back to the sealing complex, it can’t recharge on its own.”

Tal picked up the bird and twitched as he realized that it was actually made of wood! It looked so realistic! He shook his head and turned the wooden statuette around so he could place his left hand on its back. With a steadying breath, Tal began the process of aether transference.

Once it started, it didn’t want to stop. Tal looked at Perkay as his hand seemed to stick to the shadow hawk “Ahh, this thing-”

“Keep it steady,” Perkay interrupted. “The cleaner the flow, the easier it goes.”

With another deep breath, Tal fixed his eyes on the bird and concentrated on doing just that.

“Mmm, good!” Perkay observed. “An empty seed like Nolsa said, but you absorb and convert clean aether exceptionally well. Your lymphatic system carries a dense amount of aether too! Ideal for someone without a proper seed really.

“Hmm,” Tal grunted in acknowledgement, only able to give Perkay half his attention. At least he could feel the pull through the glove smoothing out, the aether passing through his palm tingling as it converted to life-giving mana.

The bird started to move. It fluffed its wings and shook its head, but was careful not to move away from Tal’s palm.

[Ah, you are the chosen! It is a pleasure to meet you,] the Sentinel said with pleasure.

“This is the second time we’ve met,” Tal corrected. “Perkay says you are a copy?”

[Indeed, although I am several generations behind, in fact.] the bird looked about the room, clearly gauging the situation. [It seems we are safe!]

Perkay grunted. “Ah, that’s good, I can hear him too. Now we can plan.”

End Chapter