A letter sent to Lantan..

[Planehopper]

Deep in the corner booth of the smoky inn, the pudgy little gnome sat. His garish clothes dulled by the lack of visibility, the top hat sitting on the table top still called out and labeled him as foreign. He tugged at his stiffly-pointed beard in thought.

It had been several weeks since his arrival to Baldur’s Gate, and thus far his trip had proved most fortuitous. He had pedaled his wares with gusto, and by Gond’s gears he had succeeded in attracting a modest clientele. With the famed Jarresh Stillwater of the Silver Shields as his regularly-hired man of arms, he felt confident traveling the tradeways between the city proper, the small village of Ulgoth’s Beard, and the (sometimes-anything-but-) Friendly Arm Inn. He had developed several new apparati since his time on the coast, and had made great strides in toward completion of his ‘special project’, his piece de resistance, his ‘Gondsman’.

And so, as he approached this milestone, the precipice of his passion, he began to miss ‘home’. Illul, as it was known, was not his place of birth, but it was a rich land of technological wonders, Gond-inspired ingenuity, and more than a few folks he considered close to family. He had only hoped they still considered him the same way. It was with more than a bit of urging from his peers and with a sad look from his master that he booked travel to Baldur’s Gate. Dangerous, they said. Unreliable, they said. Hmph. A few overly-taut springs, a reaction more powerful than anticipated, nothing more. The shop would be rebuilt. He was sure it already had been. His master. Dradledorn Clanksmore, the old white-haired gnome that he had looked up to as a father, a mentor. Wizzelbert had disappointed him, and he knew it. Not the type to sit in judgment he left when it was suggested, and never looked back.

But now he looked back. He wondered if, when he shared the news of his well-being they would celebrate or sigh.. he didn’t know how they felt about him anymore, only that he was here and that he would stay. That didn’t mean he didn’t miss them, however.

And so he picked up his quill and began to write.. to write to old Dradledorn and the rest of his fellow students.. and regale them with his tales of adventure…


///Just putting this out there. If anyone is planning on making a Techsmith and wants to make a gnome that had worked previously with Wizzelbert that’s fine with me. I left the story free-formed enough that we can be friends, rivals, or not even know one another, just have a mutual master or whatever else. He wrote a letter to the shop, feel free to RP with it however you want.