An ambition for a Halfling [the continuing adventures of the entropic cether]

[Willibald O'Dande]

25th Kalendryas Era XV ~ Midwinter and Chilly

Willi had an ambition, it was not a big ambition but for a three feet tall cether it was the one central theme of his life. He wanted a caravan all brightly painted with yellow red and green paint, a home on wheels that held all the great things in life. A soft bed, a stove to keep his hands and feet warm, a larder full of bread and cheese and a barrel of brown ale strapped to the side. He had dreamed long darkenings about the docile black and white horse that pulled his ambition her name was going to be Mabel!

Yes indeedy! Willi knew what he wanted out of life, the wild open road, a set of reins in his hand , his old pipe puffing in the wind of spring and the thought of another mile stretching out on the road of life.

Trouble was every time he had decided that this was the era that he would find the way to achieve his ambition, it all went wrong, horribly wrong ! Rather than being able to save the crowns he needed to purchase the caravan and black and white horsey Willi found himself poorer and skinnier that before. He had been thrown out of a window in the Aediles office in Riparia. Searched for a Ikos master and some magic dice half way around the empire and succeeded but not a single gold coin had come his way. He had been deputy harbour master in Imperia under a terrifying Orc piratey sorta fella but it all went wrong! Each time he tried to settle down for a few months and be like normal folk disaster struck and he was off on the road again.

Yet for all his failures somewhere in Willibald psyche rested a strong kernel of optimism….it would be all right this time …something was bound to turn up ….the gods of fate and luck must one brightening notice Willi and put him on the path to his ambition.

Willibald was reasonable enough to accept the fact that he had no skills other than a certain ability to get into trouble at the drop of someone else’s hat. It weren’t his fault but it was a fact that whenever he tried to set his red hairy feet on a path of normalcy chaos seemed to break free and enjoy itself at his expense!

It was typical of Willis’s luck that when he had wanted to sell his land deeds at the Aediles office[ post 155] so that he and his previous companion Flopsy Doodle could divide the loot and buy his caravan the spectre at the feast his old mam had turned up and turned the whole thing into a riotous fiasco .Things like that happened all the time to Willibald but perhaps just for once in the bitter cold of a Jaedaxian winter his luck might change for once.

Thus it was immediately after passing through the gates he walked into the magnificent city of Jaedaxia , his bright green eyes sparkling and his wits tuned to their limit, he strolled on bare red furry feet through the bitter streets calling out to passers-by.

“Oi bids ye serale. Willibald O’Dande at yer service

[Crimson]

“Oi bids ye serale. Willibald O’Dande at yer service" was the cethar's greeting as he walked the cold cobblestones that wove from narrow pathways into wide boulevards as shoppes, apartments, and villas alike scrolled on either side of him. It was a fine Winter brightening, crisp and completely cold as always. Whether Willi was down on his luck, or really down on his luck there were bound to be a twist in the Fates one way of another. That was just how the omniverse worked. One brightening you're a poor man, and no one knew what tomorrow might bring.

In the cethar's case, he tripped. Yup, not too dramatic at all. He let loose a partial yelp before he caught something with his flailing arms. It came loose Willi found himself shivering as he landed heavily on the cobblestones in front of him. When he recovered, he found himself next to a burly looking felllow. This said fellow did not look at all polite or friendly too. No, not at all. And as if things couldn't get any worst -- it did.

In his hand, the very one that managed to grasp onto something in hopes of preventing his fall, was a coin purse. Willi recognized it from the moment his beady eyes fell on the item. The man growled something obscene and opened his palm in front of the cethar.

"Gimme, that's mine"he said. He had a flash of hair along a bright bald spot on his head and a thick beard that was probably grown to make up for it. He was built like a sailor and had biceps the size of Willi's head.

It may be in Willi's best interest to hand back the purse he mistakenly (?) snatched.

[Willibald O'Dande]

It is a simple fact that when you are only three feet tall you spend a great deal of your time looking up. This is particularly true when you are on your knees in the gutter! Willi did not normally trip Halflings were good on their feet their footsies were larger than most in proportion to their bodies and as such Willi could rely on a sense of balance ….usually! However when some big nob drops a purse in front of a body and that purse impedes ones lawful progress to the extent of making a body meet the cold stone streets of Jaedaxia any trust that Willi had in his red hairy bare feet keeping him safe slipped away.

The big nob was not one of those sunny folks with a pleasant disposition that was obvious. The fact that the sunshine reflected off his bald spot emphasising the fact that he was tonsorially challenged did add to the impression that this bloke might be one of those fellas who used their fists first and thought about the consequences later.

He was huge and had a brevity with words that made his point succinctly! The purse seemed heavy and it rattled pleasingly as Willi clasped it in his fist ….but Willi was not completely sure about this situation!

He looked up at the sailor type the purse still in his fist and winked broadly Serale mister top of the morning to ye, now pilgrim don’t be after getting poor little Willi wrong ’ere. This ‘ere purse was a lying in the road , this ’ere purse was after being responsible for poor old Willi falling over and damaging his fine clothes. You says it yours and lets be fair with fists like that and muscles in places I aint even got places , you would have not a spot of bother a proving yer ownership of this ‘ere purse. Am I right ,aye thought so. Of course Willi who is as honest as the brightening is long could just run away and find a local copper and ’and the purse over ..leave it in the hands of the local rozzers eh but we don’t want that do we? So I am after thinking friend that as this purse was carelessly dropped in Willi’s path and it caused Willi to fall over like. Then at least their ought to be a finders fee after all big fella if it weren’t for the fact that an honest Halfling found this purse it might well be somebody else who is less scrupulous and would have been off faster than fleas on a dogs backside and you‘se would never have seen this ‘ere purse again .

The logic was infallible, at least Willi thought it were , the only problem was the big fella and his thumping great fists but hey Willi might be small but he reckoned he could talk his way out of most situations of course there was always a first time!

[Crimson]

"Then at least their ought to be a finders fee after all big fella if it weren’t for the fact that an honest Halfling found this purse it might well be somebody else who is less scrupulous and would have been off faster than fleas on a dogs backside and you‘se would never have seen this ‘ere purse again ."

That was the last, fairly long-winded, conclusion the cethar managed to say before a massage hand threatened to thwap him til kingdom come. Given that Mr. Bald Top was less drunk and tripsy, he may have actually hit the bouncy Willi. But since he was rather drunk, the cethar had but to step aside or duck at the massive man's beast-like, but slow, swipes at him. His enormous belly also got in the way of his bending, giving him a sort of 'maximum range' whenever he tried to smack the little cethar.

"HONEST ME ARSE!" he bellowed "GIMME MY DAMNED PURSE! BEFORE I TURN YA INTO JAM!" He swiped again, missing another time. By now several passer-byers had stopped mid-step to watch the unlikely scene. It was a battle between mortal and giant, a mountain against a blade of grass. Who would prevail? Once more, the burly bald man attempted to smack Willi across the head and missed. But then, an idea struck him. It was brillitant, though his hazy mind was still struggling to grasp the concept: kick. He had legs, oui? And with that thought he raised a rather enormous right leg and aimed a boot at Willi's chest.

[Willibald O'Dande]

Well so much for negotiation ! thought Willi as he ducked under the slow haymaker . Willi the brave thought of himself as a lover rather than a fighter but he was no coward! He had tried to be reasonable but this was just too much for a body to stand . Chummy was big, he was slow he was as tipsy as a Terrimarquian prison guard on vacation and there was not a shred of evidence that the purse was his.

It was time to fight! Now it must be said that the Halfling had absolutely no training in the finer points of combat however what he did have was a plethora of advice stuck into the his tousled red haired head. His parents were extremely fond of telling him useful things and one such piece of advice decided to come to the surface and make its reacquaintance with Willi.

Remember Willi his old dad had told him a big blokes the same size as yourself when ‘e is a lying flat on his back

It seemed like a good idea to the ducking and dancing Halfling but this bloke was huge and he was only three feet tall and thin as a elf on a diet so how was he going to manage the feat of getting the huge bellied fella off his feet ?

Willi cast his eyes around looking for something he could use as a weapon but all he could see was the gathering crowd . It is a fact that crowds always gather for a sporting occasion such as this , if the fight went on bets might be laid and Willi was guessing that should that happen he was the odds on loser!

Big lad was getting inventive, fed up with swinging hooks at the elusive Halfling he lashed out with an enormous leg accompanied by an equally sized boot straight for his chest .Quick as thought Willi would attempt a manoeuvre ,being close to the ground naturally, he would attempt to do a forward roll under the advancing boot and if he succeeded in getting behind the big fella Willi would leap to his feet grasp the leather belt that was holding up the sailors trousers and pull as hard as he could.

It might topple the sailor over or even better considering the size of his belly, Willi’s efforts might pull the said trousers down around the ankles. It is very hard to fight with yer trousers round yer ankles and yer soft bits on display to all and sundry . Either way the odds on the little cether might well close if he was successful!

[Crimson]

Willi felt a dull wish as a giant (compared to the cethar) boot grazed his hair. This was followed by a rough attempt at a forward roll but it succeeded nevertheless. Before long, the cethar found himself behind the drunk who was still slightly dazed by the sudden increase of activity in his system. He was also a bit confused seeing as his target had now disappeared.

But his confusion was short lived.

Suddenly, his belt felt heavy and before long a majority of his trousers was seized by an invisible force! The bystanders laughed, screamed, while mothers respectively dragged their children away. The man had no underpants, which made it good and bad. It was fortunate for Willi because the combined surprise attack and embarassment caused the drunk from attempting to escape; this resulted in him toppling over like a smelly tree.

It was, however, also unfortunate because seeing as Willi was standing behind the now-pantless sailor, he was also at level with the man's rather hairy arse. And when he fell, he let loose a quick spray of warm air that smelled quite horrid. The cethar was quick to cough, choke, and vomit.

To everyone else, it was another darkening by the eastern quarter.

[Willibald O'Dande]

“Triumph is a cruel mistress“ was something that his old mam warned the young Willi about , it was one of those sayings that Willi the younger nodded about sagely and then puzzled about before forgetting again. However in view of the events of the past few moments it seemed somewhat apt! He had felled the giants dignity in front of a warming audience. He should have thrown off the old sock that served as a hat in a gesture of triumph and bowed to his public, Willi the bold had done the impossible again Willi the magnificent had beaten the huge sailor in one on one combat but alas he had not thought his brilliant manoeuvre through completely.

He had not taken into account the fact that these sailor types often went “commando” he had not factored into the equation that vast bellies and enormous amounts of strong beer add up to gaseous emanations from the nether regions. He had not contemplated the mundane fact that big hairy arsed sailors with their trousers around their knees might expel waste air into the ether.

It was in the lexicon of bottom burps the human version of an eruption of Mount Aslan it was sulphurous, it was meaty, it was beery and it was beyond the realm of smell and touched on the essence of the infernal itself! Willi copped the lot the full Montgomery right up the sensitive nasal passages the smell hit his brain first and then his stomach and with a monstrous gulping and heaving Willi expelled the contents of his stomach in a long stream of yellow and orange. The fact that Willi’s diet consisted mainly of cheese and bread and vegetables were only for donkeys it had always surprised the Halfling why there were always bits of half digested carrot in the pool at his feet.

However this was no time to contemplate the metaphysics of the carrot conundrum , he still had the purse, the sailor was still pulling his trousers up and despite the fact he had just heaved for Aelyria the time had come to leg it !

Willi took off as fast as his little legs could carry him ducking into the shadows and down alleyways as fast as he could go. As the man said “there is time to count your money but not when you are sitting at the poker table!”

[Crimson]

Willi ran and the crowd soon dispersed. Knowing that his luck had turned for the worst (the drunk sailor still thought that Willi was a foul leprechaun) he had turned around and waddled home without his trousers. Whether this was fate or a simple lack of a head between his shoulders, Telath may never know. And soon enough, the cethar found himself huddled between a fairly long alley with no one in sight. He panted, alluding to his not-fantastic physical condition.

Still, if Willi counted his prize now he'd find the furry purse more valuable than he imagined. It contained not one, but two hundred crowns' worth of banknotes, some eight silver coins and a bronze key labeled "Pier 3. East H." in black lettering. Since Willi was a fairly clever lad (and a handsome one at that) it was rather easy for him to conclude that East H. must be "East Harbor" and thus Pier 3 was some sort of location. Given that information, the cethar might have been strangely pulled to discover what other treasure he could collect that darkening.

So, if he went off to East Harbor and sought Pier 3 he'd find himself standing in front of a short looking wooden extention from the Eastern Harbor with a store house behind him labeled with a large, black colored "3" conveniently placed for all to see. Along the entrance of the said storehouse, however, were two well placed men who appeared to be guarding the place. Each wore a short sword along their belts and had a mean air about them. The bearded one was scatching furiously at his left arm while his red haired counterpart laughed outrageously.

[Willibald O'Dande]

Willi slipped down onto his bottom and allowed his heaving chest to calm. The fact that the alley way was filthy did not affect the grubby little Halfling one jot, he was still on fire with his triumph in the “battle of the century” and the detritus of the city that seemed to have reached this particular point in space and time only made his hiding place that more desirable. It was perhaps a quarter of a candlemark later that Willi now fully recovered and happy enough that his escape from the big un was successful, examined the purse , the notes and coins were a welcome relief from the grinding poverty he had been suffering from lately but the key was a problem!


Having been albeit for a short time the assistant harbour master of Imperia, he recognised “pier” East H took a bit of pondering about but where there is a pier there is water and water meant ports in a city this size ….or Harbours! Woo Hoo clever master Willi, not only the best warrior in the kingdom but also the brightest Halfling in Telath! it is a fact that occasionally Willi allowed his mind to wander into flights of fancy!

Hauling himself to his feet he began to plan, first on the agenda he would find a second hand shop and get some new clothes then bread cheese and a meat pie washed down with good brown ale.

He meandered down towards the docks area and found a scruffy little pawn shop and by dint of haggling came out with a suit of sober clothes in a brown shade that meant impoverished chic! A cloak with a hood was purchased, it was far too big but meant that he could cover himself completely. Willi had learned in his “Dice Adventure” that shapeless figures dressed in black from head to foot lurking in shadows were virtually invisible to watching eyes and if he was going to investigate pier 3 he suspected that shapeless lurking would be on the menu. A small slightly rusty dagger completed the ensemble that smelled of long storage and camphor.

Over a mug of ale and his chosen repast in a nondescript pub on the docks Willi began to think about what the key might mean.

First of all the piratey fella with a liking for strong beer and no small clothes had been the first owner of the key. Whether the door that would open to the key was owned by his opponent was debatable but he was sensible enough to realise that should he meet the big fella again it would be doubtful that he would get off as lightly.

The key opened some form of door that was obvious and keys and locks meant valuables. So this was an obvious case of risk versus reward. Life was a risk for Willi and he had so far gained little reward, this might well be his chance! But first a bit of a look see, see how the land lay and a general reconnoitre of pier 3.

Finishing his beer he wrapped the big black cloak around himself shoved the hood up and wandered down to pier 3 and the eastern harbour district. It did not take long to spot the door that opened to his purloined key but unfortunately for Willi the door was closed and probably locked but worse whatever was inside the storehouse was so valuable that it required the attention of two guards! They looked capable, mean and worst of all sober!

Willi found a spot out of view and squatted down inside his long cloak, hopefully blending with the shadows and watched the guards. The first thing he noticed was that the beard was having problems with an itch and by the way he was scratching it looked to be a bad one, he was getting no sympathy from his mate who appeared to find the beards discomfort hilarious.

Willi pondered this fact, itches could be anything, a touch of the pox, a flea bite, scrofula. So why was his mate finding it so funny? There was nothing for it but to find out, throwing back his hood and getting to his feet Willi sauntered to where the guards were standing.

“Serale mates top of the morning to ye, I sees yer got some discomfort there matey my old mam swears by a mixture of butter and honey for itches always worked for me.

[Crimson]

A second hand shoppe was hard to come by at that particular candlemark, but luckily (as Willi was naturally) there was a cloth vendor who was just about to retire for the brightening. He was pushing along a cart full of awkwardly matched clothes -- vests of differing sizes, trousers too large or too small, tunics with patches, cloaks and coats with a strange musky smell. Whatever the case, Willi should have managed to find whatever set of clothes he had the heart to hunt for. And just his luck (again) the cethar was given a good deal about it too! Just 20 crowns for whatever he could wear at that very moment. Perhaps he was a luck-magnet; OR the vender was uncomfortably wary of little folk.

One of those.

The food and ale were easier to find. There were seedy taverns all over the lower half of the town -- and when darkening came, the candles were lit and lanters filled with oil. Then, it was patry time. The cethar had no problem ordering what he wanted and ate and drank til he was full. And by the time Willi was done, rested, and full, it was indeed morning. And best of all, the guards on Pier 3 were sober and quite lively.

One of the men, the one without the itchy beard looked down and crossed his arms over his chest. He was armed all right, and not only after he flexed his biceps. "What business you got here, halfy?" he barked. Then, as if he was suddenly cured from the itch, the bearded fellow lowered his gaze and scoffed. "Ya better scram. Our boss don't like the little peoples."

[Willibald O'Dande]

Well tell me the old, old story moaned Willi to himself it was always the blooming same big folks pushing around little folks and these two looked as if they had gone to university to learn how to do it proper like. However Willi had majored in the university of the road and had learned how to use his wits rather than his fists.

Willi doffed his cap to the pair of bruisers and mumbled sorry to butt in mates but I noticed you having troubles with yer arm thought I would be friendly like but its ok lads did not mean any offence I aint got no business really so I am off and a good serale to you on this foine morning.

Willi took two steps away from the thugs and spun on his heel What’ s wrong with us little folk, we don’t do you big folks any harm we aint strong enough or brave enough to do that?…Well that’s is of course if you are not counting him! …….

Willi walked back to the guards and whispered You know him, you must know him? ’e reckons ‘e can beat up any of you big nobs ….been boasting of it all night in the pub over there spending crowns and boasting how ’e larrups this big piraty fella in broad day light. Pulls his kirks down in front of an audience and steals ’is money…..

Calls ’imself Willi the bold. Willi the magnificent, fair makes me stomach turn it doies ‘is carry on and boasting …Well it aint right is it gives us regular small folk a bad name if one of us starts telling tall tales like that. Then you big folk are going to have to prove you can beat the tar out of us little folk. Stands to reason don’t it mates I reckons you should nab him and if yer boss don’t like us Halflings then you get brownie points with ’im. I don’t mind looking after this ere door whilst yer gone.

In the annals of tall tales and off the cuff tarrydiddles this one was a whopper but “hells teeth” he had to move these big louts somehow because he was itching to find out what treasure there was hiding behind door with the big number 3.

[Crimson]

Jack and Jackson (the one with a beard) were not normally suckers. But between the booze, the illegal drugs, and more booze had soften their minds a tad. A notch, if you will. And when Willi began his storytelling, they took it all in -- net, weights, and spear (that's how people hunted boar, you know). By the time the cethar offered his services to find this "Willi the Bold, or Magnificent, or rather" the two men were already nodding appreciatively at the prospect of seeing this midget fight another midget.

It all seemed too amusing to pass up in their books.

Not that they read books, of course.

"Hmm, you say this Willi the Bold character pulls down yer knickers?" Jack asked. He ran his muscular hand through his muscular red hair and nodded thoughtfully (again, he was not very fond of thinking under normal circumstances). "Sounds like a fight you'd enjoy, Jackson!" He pounded his bearded friend's arm playfully and the man studdered sideways at the blow.

"Ow, yah your mum would pay to have her knickers pulled" he winked at Willi "if you catch me meanin' !" The red-haired guard laughed along before his face turned serious and he smacked his counterpart again.

"Don't talk about me mum" he hissed.

"Sorry" Jackson ducked.

But then a thoughtful thought came over Jack and his demeanor reflected this. "Wait" he said suddenly "we could fetch this Willi the Bold or rather and fight him together!"

"YEAH!"

"Show him his place!"

"YEAH!"

"No offense", Jack noted with a shrug aimed at Willi.

[Willibald O'Dande]

None taken mate! Willi replied, knuckling his forehead in humble acknowledgement that the two guards were bigger ,braver and stronger than he was. Not necessarily smarter but they could not have everything!

“I’ll just stand ’ere and watch this door while you blokes go and have some fun with this Willi fella. Seems to me that he needs taking down and given a lesson to learn him his place in polite society!”

Now came the delicate bit of his ad hoc plan , The gamble was if these two swallowed his “porky pie” and slipped off to the pub looking for the fictitious Halfling pugilist were they going to ask him to accompany them? That would scupper his little scheme and he would have to leg it again or come up with an excuse for not coming with them……a bit of encouragement possibly…

Look mates you don’t mind if I don’t come with yer, its that me stomachs a bit delicate I throws up something awful when there is blood around, puts me off me grub for ages it does. Why don’t you find this ‘ere Willi and then have a few ales yourself, it’s a nice brightening and standing guarding an old door don’t look that hard even for a little fella like me.

He brought out a couple of gold pieces and handed them over with

have a pint on me no need to rush back .

[Flopsy Doodle]

She huffed and puffed as she made her way to yet another Aedile's in another city. Willi had to be some place she could find him and those officially types was sure to be knowing if he had passed through their city.

Flopsy recalled the last place she had seen Willi was in the Aediles in Riparia where she had inadvertantly lost control of her bladder at the same time she farted! The Aedile had been none to pleased at that since it was the Aediles desk she had been standing on at the time.

Then would the gods believe it but Willi's mam showed up and began taking him to task. Not been so keen on Willi's mam (even i