Story of Gnathan
The thundering crash of a falling tree woke the small Gnome with a start, the sounds of celebration and orcish voices pervaded the normal solitude of the oak he called home. His sugar-glider companion, chattering nervously flitted about the hollow of their tree squeeking his disaproval.
"You hear it too Petaurus?"
Another crash shook the very roots of the massive tree they resided in, eyes widening the gnome chittered something to the small glider causing it to bolt for what appeared to be a small hole in the top of their hollow.
"Find them little friend, we cannot let this continue."
Standing swiftly the gnome began gathering spell components from various
hiding places when his tree shuddered violently. Freezing in place he could hear the guttural swearing of many orcs outside his home. Peeking through a small hole in the bark he could see the vile invaders, wielding axes and torches they blissfully hacked at the forest he loved.
"Look at the flying tree rat." a particularly ugly orc said pointing at a distant tree.
A bow wielding orc spotted the small sugar-glider and quickly drew his bow lining up his shot.
Horrified for his friend, the gnome placed both hands on the inner bark of his tree, calling forth a combination of his magical abilities and the natural amplification of his home his voice blasted through the forest, "DROP YOUR WEAPON AND LEAVE THESE WOODS YOU VILE ABOMINATIONS!". Terrified by the sudden blasting voice the bow wielding orc turned and tripped as he released his arrow, missing his mark the stray bolt flew directly at the largest orc of the group clipping his ear. Grabbing at his ear the orc began shouting, "I'm hit! We're under attack!" and quickly drew his sword charging into the forests.
Giggling to himself at the antics of the orcs, Gnathan forgot about his amplified voice, unintentionally causing the massive oak the orcs were attempting to chop down to shake and giggle loudly.
"That tree just laughed at us!" an orc shouted, pointing at the tree.
"Now we can't have that." replied another orc,
"I say we burn the insolent pine down!" shouted the bow wielding orc as he stood back up.
"Its an oak you nitwit," Gnathan whispered, his voice still amplified.
"So the tree thinks its witty does it?" said the bloody eared orc as he re-emerged from the forests, his army of invisible foes vanquished.
The orcs gathered their axes and began approaching the large oak, malevolence burned in their eyes as they discussed the various ways they'd exact their revenge on this impertinent tree. Thinking quickly Gnathan stepped back, taking careful aim through his spying hole he launched a magic missile at the nearest orc, blasting it between the eyes.
Startled and terrified the orcs scattered from Gnathans limited view, their voices could still be heard though muffled by the thick bark that surrounded him. Petaurus quickly scuttled in the way he left, chittering excitedly at Gnathan he ran in small circles on the wall of bark. Eyes widening realization struck the Gnome, quick as he could he crawled out the exit into the heavy branches above. As he reached the cool air the smell of smoke hit his nostrils, the orcs had set fire to the back of his tree and many others surrounding it.
Horrified Gnathan quickly began casting spells to douse the ever cosuming flames, the commotion of his casting drawing the attention of the celebrating orcs.
"It wasn't the tree that kill vrash, it was that little halfling!"
"Thats no halfling, its a shaved dwarf!"
"Who's ever heard of a shaved dwarf? Thats a gnome, and gnomes are delicous!"
"Then lets get him!" shouted the bow wielding orc as he quickly drew and fired upon Gnathan, the arrow flew true striking Gnathan in the chest blasting him from the upper branches he smashed into the ground bleeding profusely.
Blinking in confusion the world began to swim before his eyes, rough stinking hands gripped his arms. Dragging him forth the orcs began discussing the various ways to cook a gnome.
"I say we skin we boil him with pixie."
"No, we'll butter him and cook him on a spit."
"Why should we do it that way when we can eat him raw?!"
"Do you remember the last time you ate raw Gnome? You couldn't pillage for weeks, we'll clean him out, and cook him over an open fire."
As they discussed how to cook Gnathan, his life-blood quickly flowed from the gaping wound in his chest, in his last moments of conciousness he saw petaurus glide down from a tree, landing on the orc holding Gnathans arms he bit down vicously on the orcs head, clawing furiously at the same time.
"AHH! GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF!" releasing Gnathan the orc began running around swatting at his head violently. The other orcs quickly joined in beating him on the head vicously, when they finished the sugar-glider was gone and their companion lay unconcious on the ground.
Turning to retrieve their dropped dinner the orcs stared in confused facination as hundreds of roots began covering the limp form of the gnome. Moss, grass and soil began churning as more and more roots covered his body pulling him down into the quagmire of earth. One orc, loath to lose his new dinner dove to grab at the limp form of gnathan, a stray root quickly wrapped up his arm. Opening his mouth to scream the root shot down his throat choking off the scream of horror. Shooting straight up the root began turning into a tree, limbs erupted from the shuddering form of the orc as foliage quickly spread. Staring in terrified facination the remaining orcs watched as his body became nothing more than a red stain on a massive Aspen. Turning they ran as fast as they could from the cursed forest.
Spasms of coughing wracked Gnathans body as a sudden healing warmth spread through him. The blurred vision of a beautiful green woman stood above him smiling down, "Now is not your time brave little Warden, you have much to do for the forests yet."
Gnathan heard a chittering as Petaurus clambored onto his shoulder, his whiskers tickling the gnomes cheeks. A sudden wave of reassurance and calm washed over Gnathan as he fell into a deep slumber. Gnathan awoke comfortably in his bed, all evidence of the wound in his chest gone.
(sorry for any spelling/grammar errors. Its late)
