In the bustling city of Porthsmouth, there were certain workshops scattered all over the urban wild. From these shops one would hear joyous whoops, cries of surprise or confusion, and the occasional small explosion. We now focus on a cozy little wooden structure not too far from the famous harbor. Look past the weather-battered wooden doors, and you would see a man - if it wasn't for his approximate size of three foot seven - working on the insides of what seemed to be a metal humanoid double his size. Surrounding him were strange contraptions stuffed with cogs and miniature steam pipes, all in the same tone of brown, yellow and grey. A half-eaten loaf of bread and a rusted toolbox lay by his side.
"Hmm.. hoom... aha!" The gnome's shoulders, still buried in the robot's torso, extended a gloved hand that felt around until it came to rest on a stray cog.
"Let's see... hmm. Aagh!"
The hand reached out again, and reeled in a small hammer. Three unruly bangs resounded from inside the machine.
"Ah. Better. Much better." There was a sound of a click, but the gnome struggled to pull his head back out.
"Confounded apparatus!" After a strained groan, the gnome's face appeared. His face was black with soot and his beard was now almost night black. One might have assumed this was his original hair color, if it were not for the streaks of hazel brown. His blue tunic was now ruined, but he didn't seem to care. Suddenly, a miniature bell somewhere rang and two figures walked in - a boy and his mother. The gnome attempted to dust off his sooted face, and put on his most salesman smile. "Good morning, Madame! Is there anything that you fancy?" The gnome gestured towards the rows of clockwork contraptions adorning the walls. The child seemed to take an interest in a peculiar miniature - it modeled a playground, with robotic-looking children looking much akin to the enormous one that the gnome had just previously worked on. The gnome winded the miniature up, and the children began playing ball, going on swings, see-sawing, and the like. "But that's not all." The gnome absentmindedly conjured up a small display of fireworks. The clockwork children looked up from their games in wonder, then after some time they whooped, cheered and clapped. However, the mother had watched the gnome's display of an arcane act and glared at him in disgust. She then huffily took the child, wrapped her arm protectively around his shoulders, then proceeded to hastily exit the workshop. The gnome looked at the fireworks, then his gloved hands. He clutched them to his bosom, muttering a curse against himself for yet again driving away another human. Bloody Broken Wand and Gilded Cross and their shenanigans. Why was it so important? He sighed and proceeded to re-enter the large robot's torso.
"Hmm.. hoom... aha!" The gnome's shoulders, still buried in the robot's torso, extended a gloved hand that felt around until it came to rest on a stray cog.
"Let's see... hmm. Aagh!"
The hand reached out again, and reeled in a small hammer. Three unruly bangs resounded from inside the machine.
"Ah. Better. Much better." There was a sound of a click, but the gnome struggled to pull his head back out.
"Confounded apparatus!" After a strained groan, the gnome's face appeared. His face was black with soot and his beard was now almost night black. One might have assumed this was his original hair color, if it were not for the streaks of hazel brown. His blue tunic was now ruined, but he didn't seem to care. Suddenly, a miniature bell somewhere rang and two figures walked in - a boy and his mother. The gnome attempted to dust off his sooted face, and put on his most salesman smile. "Good morning, Madame! Is there anything that you fancy?" The gnome gestured towards the rows of clockwork contraptions adorning the walls. The child seemed to take an interest in a peculiar miniature - it modeled a playground, with robotic-looking children looking much akin to the enormous one that the gnome had just previously worked on. The gnome winded the miniature up, and the children began playing ball, going on swings, see-sawing, and the like. "But that's not all." The gnome absentmindedly conjured up a small display of fireworks. The clockwork children looked up from their games in wonder, then after some time they whooped, cheered and clapped. However, the mother had watched the gnome's display of an arcane act and glared at him in disgust. She then huffily took the child, wrapped her arm protectively around his shoulders, then proceeded to hastily exit the workshop. The gnome looked at the fireworks, then his gloved hands. He clutched them to his bosom, muttering a curse against himself for yet again driving away another human. Bloody Broken Wand and Gilded Cross and their shenanigans. Why was it so important? He sighed and proceeded to re-enter the large robot's torso.