Gnomish Investigations - Felwood (Part 2)

Journal Entry 523 – Location, Felwood.

I attempted to use the Universal Language Translation device (ULTD) to communicate with a friendly female individual of the Tauren race who was standing by the road. Although I am positive Nikolas has updated and upgraded all the systems, I do believe that the device is still in need of some fine tuning.

I am not sure why the friendly tall Tauren druid lady felt it imperative to repeat the phrase “the century drawers just north of the itinerant spank frequently, little fiend” several times, but in due course (after much hand waving and pointing), I was able to discern an encampment a little ways up the road.* It seemed to be the base camp of the very druids I was seeking.

I expressed to them my desire to further investigate the corrupting nature of the demonic energies, and my curiosity as to how the druids were able to combat them.

The druids expressed the opinion that the best way for me to gain a better understanding the dangers of demonic corruption was to see first-hand the results of said corruption, and advised I survey the lands for myself. One example, they said, was how the corruption shattered the once-peaceful furbolg tribes. I explained that I had seen some of the results of this effect on the furbolgs in my explorations of the lands to the south, but the druids helpfully pointed out that there was a tribe of furbolgs here in the midst of the Felwood who somehow resisted the corruption.

I found this intriguing. Perhaps the furbolgs of this tribe had discovered some means of combating the effects of demonic energy? The druids were not sure, as they said the furbolgs were wary and distrustful of strangers.

I determined to attempt to communicate with them. The druids have marked the location of their settlement on my map. I will undertake the task of traveling there tomorrow.
_____

*According to an elven translator, the helpful Tauren druid was actually saying “The Cenarian druids just north up the road speak Common, little friend.” I believe she may have been speaking with a slight accent, which may have thrown the ULTD off. Some day, I will have to conduct further research on the intricacies of the Taurehe language.

Gnomish Investigations - Felwood (Part 1)

Felwood.

Adelheide looked about anxiously as she rode through the haunted trees. Some of them looked like twisted faces, screaming in anguish. A few even dripped an eerie greenish goo, which clearly was not mere tree sap. Mere tree sap didn’t glow that way. Even the wildlife seemed diseased, and decidedly hostile. All about, the land seemed to languish in decay.

"This is almost the worse thing I've ever seen," she whispered to herself. "It's so horrible! As bad as Gnomeregan, even!"

Speedy craned his head about, watching the clearly diseased landscape flow by. The tortoise (not turtle, as the confused Stormwind orphan had named it, poor confused and as yet uneducated human child that he was) was clearly curious, but not at all tempted to exit his carrying box to investigate himself. Besides, Addy reasoned, cleaning him of the muck and goo would be such a chore.

But there was a settlement ahead, they had told her. Cenarian druids, elven and tauren both, working together to combat the demonic taint that infected these woods. To draw out the poison, to cleanse the land. Reclaim it. Make it whole again.

It was why the gnome was here.

"There has to be something," the gnome muttered to herself, flipping the mechanostrider on auto-navigate and consulting her notes again. "If the druids have found a way, then there must be something to the process which can be adapted and modified to apply to a single individual as well. Maybe even amplified, to improve and speed up the process."

Speedy looked at her and tilted his head.

"Yes, I know," she replied shortly, sounding slightly annoyed. "I'm sure miss lady Lyirdanna and missus lady Alishe have thought of that, too. But they would have been looking at the question from a… a different viewpoint. A druid viewpoint. And also a night elf viewpoint. Not a gnomish viewpoint."

Speedy ducked his head inside his shell. "Oh, no, Speedy, I know you didn't mean it that way," she assured the tortoise, patting his shell reassuringly. "But… well, as Aunt Frazzlespigot always used to say, 'Sometimes doing your own research from scratch and conducting your own experiments based on that research allows you to succeed where others who rely only on the findings of other researchers without first confirming the validity and reliability of said research first find themselves hanging from the rafters with their clothes all on fire.' "

Speedy blinked at her solemnly as she returned to reviewing and organizing her notes.

"Only in this case," she mused absently, "the explosion in question might be a little more powerful than that…"
_____

There was someone up ahead beside the road. Addy was totally immersed in her notes by this time, and Speedy had to bite at the gnome’s clothing to get her attention.

“Speedy, no,” she scolded. “I know I’ve informed you several times that runecloth is not a suitable dietary supple… oh, hm? Ah, someone up ahead? Thank you, Speedy. You’re such a clever tortoise!”

The gnome quickly stashed away her notebook and flipped off the auto-navigation system (and made a mental note to talk to Nikolas about adjusting the automatic road-following settings, it seemed to be veering to the left a bit), taking the controls of the mechanostrider again. She slowed to a stop and waved back at the rather tall waving individual.

It was a tauren. A female tauren. From the facial expression the gnome could see (and Addy could see the tauren’s expression quite well from her perch on the mechanostrider), she did not seem hostile.

“Greetings and salutations, miss tall stranger lady tauren, ma’am!” Addy said cheerfully. “May I be of assistance in some form or fashion?”

The tauren blinked. “Tauruhe?” she asked the gnome, obviously not understanding much of what the gnome had just said.

Addy blinked back. “Oh dear, no… I apologize, but I am not capable of communicating in the native Tauren language… umm… one moment…”

The tauren looked on in bemusement as the gnome began searching her saddlebags, all the while mumbling to herself. Finally, Addy found what she was looking for, and proudly flourished a particular device.”

“Now, miss tall stranger lady tauren, ma’am,” she said slowly, pointing in as polite and friendly a manner as she could manage. “Could you please speak clearly and slowly into the Universal Language Translation device, perhaps it can help us to communicate more efficiently?”

The device sparkled ominously…

Missing (One Week)

“No, dear,” the engineer replied calmly, the bulk of his concentration still on fine-tuning the calibration of his latest project. “I haven’t seen her yet today.”

Adelheide frowned. “It’s been almost a week, Nik. You… you don’t think…?”

The clear worry in her voice, tinged with a hint of fear, made him look up. An Addy flustered with panic was not a good situation for anyone.

“Now Addy,” he soothed, removing the goggles from his smoke and grease stained face, giving him something of a reverse-raccoon look. “I’m sure Abigayle is fine. Perhaps she’s become engrossed in another engineering project?”

“But she hasn’t been seen in days, Nik! I’ve asked everyone in Ironforge. The guards, the shop keepers, the mages at the Mystic Ward, even Sraaz the pie vendor!” She twisted the bit of runecloth in her hands in frustration.

Nikolas took her hands in his gently, comfortingly. “I’m sure she’s fine,” he assured her. “She’s not an unaccomplished mage…”

“Apprentice,” Addy interjected.

Nik hid a grin and continued “…mage apprentice, and a clever engineer as well. She can handle herself. And if she were in real danger, she would have contacted one of us, I’m sure. Jharvis maybe, or even Pizmo, if not us.”

“But…”

He took the fretting gnome in his arms. “No buts, Addy. Now stop worrying so. She’ll turn up, sooner or later. Just wait, you’ll see.”

“Don’t forget, she is a Frizzlespring,” came a somewhat muffled response.

Nikolas considered that simple statement. She was right.

“All right, Addy. But let’s give the Brigade a few more days, hm? If they are still unable to locate her, then I’ll make a few inquiries among my former associates. Perhaps we can acquire the assistance of a trained professional to locate Abby.”

Addy looked up, a bit alarmed. “Nikolas, won’t that be … ?”

He shook his head. “Of course not,” he assured her. “After all, we will only be utilizing their services to locate her, not apprehend her. Once we know where she is, we can go get her ourselves.” Just a hint of iron was in his voice.

Fallen - Thanks (Part 7)

Branny walked through Ironforge tiredly, careful to keep out of the way of the various people busily rushing down the streets on their own, myriad errands. While the city was never exactly quiet, it was quieter than she remembered from days long past. The rough and rowdy adventuring types had moved their base of operations to distant Shattrath, leaving the citizens of Ironforge in relative peace.

Except from the occasional insane gnome, she amended silently, shaking her head sadly as she passed one by. Dancing on a mailbox he was, and sputtering some nonsense, while mostly unclothed.

Many folk held that all gnomes were insane. She didn’t completely agree, but neither could she completely disagree. All gnomes were a wee bit off kilter, but most were harmless enough if left in peace, barring a wee bit of gentle shepherding to keep ‘em from wandering too far from sanity. But gentle and kindly treatment is what they needed, especially since the destruction of Gnomeregan. A good, sharp shove is all any gnome needed to fall over into the abyss.

And I’m knowing all about that. Her left hand clenched.

She walked out towards the Great Forge, and a small apartment there. She knocked on the door, but there was no answer, and peering through the windows, she saw no one there. She frowned, and walked over to a nearby guard, standing stoically on duty.

“Pardon, boyo – have ye seen the gnome girly who usually stays here?”

The guard blinked. “Gnome, ye say? Cannae say. I’m nae one ta notice th’ buggers, ‘til ‘tis trouble they’re bringin.” His tone carried a slight tinge of disdain.

She ignored it. Not yer fight, girl. Keep yer head. “Thankee,” she replied shortly, then turned to walk away.

Maybe she’s over by Fizzlespinner’s place…
_____

From the shadows, a small figure watched fearfully.

Abby had been off to get a quick snack from the pie vendor, muttering under her breath about the inefficiency of a pie vendor who insisted on wandering the streets instead of establishing a stationary base of operations, where customers could always find pies to purchase at their convenience, rather than having to always chase after the ambulatory source of baked sweetness.

She ducked fearfully behind some boxes as soon as she recognized the dwarf. Talking to the guard dwarf, near the location of her workshop. When the guard dwarf shook his head at some comment, the dwarf looked irritated and moved on.

Pie forgotten, the gnome panicked.

Oh no! She’s looking for me! I… I need to get out of here! Can’t take the tram, she might see me! Where to go, what to do, have to run… wait! Teleport! Yes!

It took her several deep breaths before she was calm enough to get the incantation right. A sharp flash of light, and Abby was gone.
_____

“…no, miss lightwielder Lady Branwynne, ma’am,” Adelheide chirped cheerfully. “I’m afraid Abby isn’t here right now. She was helping Nik with a project earlier, but stepped out for some fresh air and a bite to eat. Well, maybe not fresh air, as she is still confined to the boundaries of Ironforge for the duration of her punishment, but fresher than the workshop by a fair margin…”

“Ah, yes,” Branny interrupted gently. “Alright then. Well, when ye see her, tell her I was looking for her, an’ pass along my thanks.”

“Oh, of course, miss lighwielder Lady Branwynne, ma’am!”

Branny suppressed the urge to sigh.
_____

The sweet smells wafting from the forgotten pie drew the attention of a nearly naked gnome, tired from a day of failed experiments and several hours of dancing on a mailbox (he didn’t know why, but it seemed like a good idea at the time). He peered about, but the pie’s rightful owner seemed no where in sight. With a shrug, he appropriated it.

“Ugh, cherry again. You’d think Srazz would try something more innovative from time to time…”

Fallen (Part 5)

(A letter to Lyirdanna)

Dear former high lady miss tall one Lyirdanna ma’am,

Greetings and salutations.

Nikolas has been busily reviewing the designs that young Abigayle adapted for this mobile containment unit that she was working on. He is very concerned about so many different systems being contained in one single device. Most were intended on being individual devices. Nik says that combining so many creates the need for a very powerful power source, which can produce enough energy to run all of the systems.

Nik also says that he isn’t sure how Abby managed to reverse the intended power flow in regards to the various gems – originally, he intended the power contained within these gems to function as a means of enhancing certain natural properties of the gems themselves, and then infuse the metal with these properties – allowing, for example, a ruby to contain the power of fire, and transferring this into a sword. Instead, she has somehow managed to use the gems to capture and contain the demonic energies from the fel-infused steel, which in turn absorbs the energies from the strange demonic glyph.

However, Nik is afraid that Abby may not have correctly configured part of the wiring, or perhaps did not completely comprehend the conversion system, and he believes it may not be functioning correctly. He isn’t sure, because he is working on deciphering schematics, which may or may not correctly portray the reality of how the device is functioning, but he believes it is possible that the gems are not properly storing these energies. In which case, the device may not be functioning, and the demonic energies are not being contained at all. It is more likely, however, that the device is functioning as intended, but at a lesser capacity. While this would give you more time to develop an alternative solution to this dilemma before the gems reach critical capacity, it unfortunately also means that the energies from the glyph are free to continue spreading freely.

There is also the slight possibility that, because the fel-infused steel in and of itself contains some vestiges of demonic taint, the gems may actually be injecting more demonic energies into the glyph, instead of drawing it out. Again, he can’t be sure without studying the actual device in person, but he does believe that the amount of taint contained within the metal would only be a slight amount, and most likely would not have a noticeable effect.

Nik also says he’s not sure he completely agrees with Abby’s assessment of the volatile nature of the gems upon releasing the non-key-dependant locking mechanism, but he is sufficiently concerned to be working on a means to help mitigate the possible resultant explosion of energies. He believes that the nature of the demonic energies can be thwarted by natural and holy energies. In fact, he further postulates that this may be part of the reason miss lady paladin Branwynne attempted to contact a druid for aid in this matter – to counter those energies emanating from the glyph.

I agree with Nik on this. Demonic energies by nature are corrupting, destructive, and unholy. If these energies can be countered by nurturing, creative, and holy energies of sufficient power, in an exact ratio of 1:1, I believe that the effect of these energies can be cancelled out. The problem, of course, is to determine the exact amount of energies that must be applied to negate the demonic energies. If a proper balance between the conflicting energies is not established, the results could be disastrous.

Unfortunately, we do not at this time have accurate readings of exactly how much demonic energies are being produced by the glyph in question – we only have a reading on how much demonic energies the gems currently contain. We are therefore unable to give a reliable estimate on the amounts of anti-demonic energies would be required to counter the demonic energies.

I hope our research thus far can be of some assistance. Nikolas and I will continue our research into this device and the energy systems, in hopes of providing more helpful information.

In all sincerity and good wishes,

Adelheide Frizzlespring and Nikolas Whirlybolt
_____

“There,” said the gnome happily. “Just a quick, short note. Not too complicated, I think. What do you think, Speedy?”

But the tortoise was already fast asleep.

Bruises (Part 5 of 5)

Under Emissary Aurelie’s gentle ministrations, the little gnome was soon back to her pre-hoof-stomping self. Which was a relief to everyone. Most especially the small mechanical squirrel.

The scolding was not nearly as harsh as Addy had previously anticipated. Although it was indeed quite a scolding. And Addy did have to promise Nik that she would not again be quite so eager to measure the width of a full adult male tauren’s hooves by using her face as a measuring instrument.
And she conceded that it was probably not the wisest choice to attempt cross-species communications using the universal language translation prototype with a sheeped tauren (although she was curious as to what the taurhe word for “baah” was…) – as Nik pointed out, forcing the device to translate two languages simultaneously (sheep to taurhe to common) was probably beyond its current capacities, and would most likely (97.28% chance, give or take a variance of .05%) result in a short circuit…

And she had even agreed to a temporary abatement from any further participation in the defense of the forests at the behests of the Silverwing Sentinels. At least, for a time.

For the time being, at least, she decided to dedicate a greater portion of her attention to the reorganization of the copious notes on her field research thus far collected. Yes, yes indeed, that was quite a worthy task to undertake…

….but later, perhaps, she thought with a yawn. Right now, she was tired. Very very tired. Nik fussed over her a bit, seeing her to bed and tucking her in, then sat watching her drift off into slumber before returning to his workshop.

“Keep an eye on her, Spot,” he told the mechanical squirrel perched at the foot of her bed.

Spot chittered obediently.

Bruises (Part 4 of 5)

The mechanical squirrel scampered off – but only a little ways, stopping every few feet to make sure that it was being properly followed. When it did not seem satisfied with the speed of their progress, it would twitch and chitter with every appearance of real annoyance.

It lead the Emissary back the way it came. First, through the streets of Stormwind, to the smokey Dwarven District. Then, through the whirling, whirring tunnel to the Deeprun Tram. Then a quick ride, and another whirling tunnel into Tinkertown, home of numerous industrious gnomes clamoring and clanking away happily. A quick turn to the left, and there was the Military Ward, busy with residents and wandering vendors and war volunteers. Here, the squirrel tread carefully, seeking to avoid both being stepped upon, and getting lost in the crowd.

Finally, it headed for a small tavern. Up the stairs, to a small room. The squirrel scampered forward, gently chittering at a small still form cradled there, on the floor. Laying on a bedroll, was a very beat-up gnome. A gnome wearing the tabard of the Tower. And with what looked like the mark of a tauren hoof taking up most of the left side of her face.

Gnomish eyes opened blearily at the Emissary’s gasp. Blinked. Focused once more.

“Oh… dear! Lady …’misarry… ta.. un… Aur.. ie… ‘am…” Addy mumbled tiredly. “…sorry to… disturb… just… ‘ittle… indisposed…” Utterly embarrassed, she struggled weakly, trying to get up despite the screaming protest of sore muscles and numerous bruises. Spot chittered at her as if to admonish such foolishness, and after a moment, she found herself too tired to keep trying. She drifted off again.

Spot looked up at the human he had brought. Was that a gleam of worry in the mechanical contraption’s eye? It chittered urgently, as if in expectation.

Bruises (Part 3 of 5)

Spot was a determined mechanical squirrel. Perhaps it was in his nature to be determined. After all, his creator had not built him with an understanding of what it meant to give up. Then again it could be that gnomish inventors themselves did not understand what it meant to give up. One cannot, after all, program one's inventions with the understanding of a concept one could not oneself comprehend.

Or maybe Spot had learned determination. Unlike mechanical squirrels created by other gnomish inventors, Spot's mechanical cranium had been outfitted with the ability to process outside data and use it to modify its own responses based on that data, even to the point of formulating completely new responses not included with its orginal behavioral templates. In short, Spot could learn.

If Spot had spent any time observing his gnomish creator or his gnomish creator's significant other (whom the mechanical squirrel's gnomish creator had placed in the care of Spot), learning the traits of gnomish determination and gnomish stubborness would not have required much of a processing capacity.

In any case, Spot was a determined mechanical squirrel. His gnomish creator's significant other had had her functionality impared, and perhaps her mechanicals damaged. She required repair. But Spot was clever enough to understand that gnomish mechanicals were not like his own. She required the attentions not of a certified repair technician, but of a healer.

Spot knew only of a few healers. One of them was the white-clad tall human female. She resided in Stormwind. Spot recalled that his creator's significant other had refered to this human as "the lady tall one Emissary former White Coven Wisdom miss Aurelie ma'am."

Spot determined that this individual would be able to repair his gnome. Off Spot went. Determined.
_____

At the door, the Emissary Aurelie heard a scratching. Patiently, determinedly, a small mechanical squirrel scratched at the door, waiting for someone to open it, waiting to lead whoever opened it to a small room in the back of the inn near the Armory in Ironforge’s Military Ward. To the room where its tired and bruised mistress lay sleeping, waiting to be healed of her painful (but non-life-threatening) bruises, bumps, lumps, scratches, and scrapes.

Bruises (Part 2 of 5)

Adelheide winced at the pain. She couldn’t move without some part of her body informing her most insistently that it did not approve of any such activity. In fact, if she were to hazard a guess without any visual confirmation, she’d estimate that perhaps 99.7% of her body was covered in bruises. Or perhaps, one single large bruise was covering 99.7% of her body? She wondered idly what percentage of blue vs. purple the bruise was…

She wondered where she was. She wondered how she got there. And, perhaps most importantly, she wondered how she was going to get home, before Nikolas became concerned and started looking for her. Then, she started to wonder how many decibels of shouting and how many hours of prolonged exposure she’d be sitting through, once he found her.

She winced again. This time, in fearful anticipation.

Unless…

Well, maybe if she were able to get someone to do a bit of healing, Nik wouldn’t be quite so upset. He’d still be angry – understandably so, after all, considering the amount of physical pummeling she’d endured, after promising to stay out of trouble – but, perhaps, not as angry. She hoped.

Unfortunately, in her current condition, she found it highly improbable that she’d be able to move enough to locate her gnomish voicebox. Which meant, of course, she’d be unable to contact anyone for any type of help. She pondered her situation.

Spot chittered.

“SPOT!” Addy murmured happily. “I’m glad… worried… big tauren… thought… squished you.”

The mechanical squirrel chittered again, and cleaned its ear.

An idea bloomed. “Spot… Spot listen. Go get help… not Nik… healing… go get…”

Spot chittered and sat there a moment, watching her. Desperately, she repeated her instructions. “Spot… help… “

The effort to speak finally was too much for her tired body to take, and she slid back into unconsciousness for a moment. When she opened her eyes again, Spot was gone.

Bruises (Part 1 of 5)

Adelheide woke slowly, her mind unusually hazy and slow this morning. Or was it morning? She wasn’t absolutely sure. The gnome opened her eyes and blinked them into focus. It took her a moment to realize that she wasn’t in her own bed.

Wha… where… OUCH!

She had tried to turn her head to shift her gaze – that was her mistake. That’s what prodded the rest of her body awake, and that’s when the pain finally registered on her slowly-waking mind.

Thinking feverishly around the pain, she recalled the night before. Nikolas had been busily puttering about in the workshop, and she’d felt the need to do a bit of field research on Horde battlefield behavior. She’d set out for Warsong Gulch again, bidding her distracted and diligently working technomantic wonder of a gnome farewell…
_____

“I’m off!” Adelheide chirped happily, giving Nikolas a quick hug.

Distractedly, Nik gave her a one-armed hug in return, his mind still half on his project. “Be careful, Addy,” he warned her gently.

“Oh, don’t worry so, Nik!” she replied easily, waving away his concern. “We’ll be fine, won’t we Spot!”

The mechanical squirrel chittered.

Nik frowned ever-so-slightly. “Hmm… maybe I should go with you. Just in case.”

“Nik, your project is important, and at a critical phase! Besides, you know you’ll just be worried about your experiment the whole time, if you go. Now go off back to work, and I’ll see you tomorrow, alright? I think I’m going to stop by and visit with Jharvis a bit. See how Abby is getting along with everyone.”

“Alright, Addy. Just be careful, alright?”

Adelheide grinned. “Of course! Aren’t I always?”

Nikolas frowned again. But Addy and Spot were already out the door.

Adelheide and Spot made their way through the busy streets of Ironforge towards the Military Ward. As usual, it was awash with people. War effort volunteers worked around the clock, collecting together supplies from everyone who donated, tall and small folk alike. From rough copper bars to steaming roasts of raptor meat, they collected, prepared, and packaged up everything, sending the much needed supplies far across the sea, to lands Addy had only read of. For a time, she and Spot watched the bustling activity with some interest – crowd dynamics were fascinating to study – but in the end, she put her notebook away once again, and hurried off to speak with the lady tall blue one staying with the sir general cousin dwarves in the ever-fascinating Armory.

…not that they ever allowed the curious young gnome anywhere near the truly fascinating areas, of course.

She sighed again, as the lady tall blue one nodded. “Indeed, friend gnome. We could use your aid. In fact…”