** A Trudge and Nettles Thanksgiving
“Out of the way, out of the way,” the gnome yelled while struggling to get past a throng of stumbling, staggering, dwarves, all well into the spirit of the holidays.
“Bah, I told ya this part of Ironforge was gonna be packed!” Trudge grumbled, shifting the pots and pans he was carrying to his other arm.
Nettles shot a glance back to the dwarf, a helpless roll of the eyes. “Hrmph! Saying I told you so does not improve our situation master dwarf. Our wagon is trapped a block back and even the two of us can’t make it through.”
“Ya, ya. Take these and git back to the wagon, I’ll be gettin’ ya through,” he replied, shoving the pot and pans into the arms of the diminutive gnome and marching off to the side of the street.
Nettles lost track of the dwarf as he futilely tried to keep the pots and pans balanced in his arms while bouncing off numerous dwarves. “Ugh, you’d think they’d bathe for the holidays at least,” he thought cringing his nose at the smell of the mass of drunken dwarves.
Meanwhile, Trudge had fought his way over to the nearest tavern and climbed atop a stack of empty kegs sitting outside it’s front door. He briefly caught a glimpse of Nettles, or at least the pans stacked well above the gnome’s head, and chuckled at the sight. “Me brudders!” he bellowed above the ruckus of the crowd. “Who needs some ale?” Almost immediately the crowd quieted and turned towards the long bearded dwarf. “I stand here at Foamblower’s tavern, home of the finest ale in Ironforge and now he’s offerin’ a holiday deal fer ya! Buy three, get one free!”
The crowd immediately burst into cheer and charged towards the tavern, shoving down and stepping over anyone too slow or too drunk that was in the way. “Trudge! What have ye done!” came a call from the window just to the side of his perch.
“Ha! Foamblower, ya should be thankin’ me for the business, yer ale tastes like water!” Trudge laughed as he hopped down from the kegs and went searching for his gnome friend.
Nettles fought hard to avoid getting swept away with the crowd when Trudge made his announcement. Finally he had to give up on the pans and just find his own way through. He crawled on his hands and knees at times, before eventually emerging beyond the crowd and surprisingly close to where he had left his wagon full of goods. Looking back down the cut stone road, Nettles had to admire Trudge’s plan. All of the dwarves previously milling about were now packed in tight to Foamblower’s tavern, leaving plenty of room for the wagon to roll past. “We might just have the time to pull this off yet,” he thought while glancing at the hour glass strapped to his wrist.
Nettles yanked himself up onto the battle ram, carrying his cart and kicked his heels into it’s side. “Move you furry beast!” he moaned as the ram stood still despite repeated kicks. “Hopeless, stupid, stubborn ram, you’re just like a dwarf….” Nettles paused mid-rant, suddenly coming up with an idea. He reached back into the wagon, fished out a carrot from one of the sacks, and tied it to the end of a stick, just beyond the ram’s reach. Kicking his heels into its side this time got the ram moving as it marched forward trying to reach the snack. “Excellent!” the gnome clapped. However, he spoke too soon. The ram, becoming more frustrated that he couldn’t reach the carrot, began to pick up speed until it was into a full out gallop, racing down the road, well out of control.
“Nettles, ya darn gnome, slow down!” Trudge yelled just as the wagon raced past him.
“I wish I could!” Nettles yelled back, holding onto the ram for dear life.
The wagon rounded another corner and picked up even more speed as it plunged down a steep tunnel. Just ahead Nettles could see his workshop coming into view. Thinking quickly, the gnome wiggled his fingers, conjuring a thick molasses on the road not far in front of the wagon. The cart rolled over the sticky mess and came to an abrupt stop, launching Nettles into the air, and sending him tumbling several meters beyond.
The gnome shook his head a few times trying to get rid of the stars dancing in front of his eyes. “Well that worked a bit too well,” he thought, but any bitterness was quickly released when he realized that he was right in front of his workshop.
Several minutes later, Trudge finally found himself at the front of Nettles' workshop. A trail of dropped vegetables and breads led from the wagon, still stuck in the road, through the front doors. “Nettles?” Trudge asked as he peered into the workshop.
The gnome was perched atop a large mechanical device, feeding turkeys down a shoot into the contraption. “Oh what took you so long?” he demanded, tapping his foot. “Never mind, never mind, get over here and give me a hand. We have precious little time left.”
The dwarf marched over and the two of them finished stuffing the machine with the rest of the food. Now filled with over three hundred turkeys, all complete with stuffing, Nettles slid down off the top of the mechanical monstrosity and began looking through some barrels stacked beside it.
“Ya know, it kind of looks like a giant bird,” Trudge commented as he studied the machine, scratching his head.
“Of course it does! Not just any bird though, here help me load this barrel in and you'll see it soon enough.” Nettles replied while dragging a keg closer to his invention. Trudge helped him load it and closed a steel grate that held the barrel in place while the gnome attached various hoses and funnels to it. “Excellent, excellent,” Nettles clapped. “We should be all set, go on and push the big red button in the back there for me master dwarf.”
Trudge looked towards Nettles with a bit of reluctance. The last time he pushed a button for the gnome, he ended up covered in soot. “Go on, go on, it is fine,” Nettles assured. Begrudgingly Trudge, walked to the back, closed his eyes, and pushed the button.
A winding, churning, noise started and little puffs of steam sputtered out the back as the steel contraption began to lift up. Trudge looked on perplexed, noticing that the device was being lifted up by two skinny, three toed, appendages. When it was at full height, the machine let loose a loud “gobble, gobble.”
“A durn turkey!” Trudge exclaimed. “Ya made a stupid mechanical turkey!”
“Not just an ordinary mechanical turkey,” Nettles replied with a grin as he began climbing up the side, “hop on.”
The dwarf struggled to pull himself up with the gnome, sitting on back of the bird, its head still “gobbling” just in front of them. Nettles put a pair of goggles on over his face and wrapped a scarf around his neck. “To the forge!” he declared and threw one of the three levers positioned before him.
The iron bird gave one more gobble and lurched forward one step at a time. “Uhh Nettles?” Trudge asked while tapping the gnome on his shoulder.
“Yes, what is it Trudge, I'm rather busy at the moment.”
“I don't think we're gonna fit,” he answered, pointing towards a far too small doorway.
“Oh bother,” Nettles sighed as the mechanical bird smashed through the front of his workshop, sending wood and stone flying.
Down the road they continued, towards the forges of Ironforge. As the temperature began to rise they knew they were getting close. Eventually the first set of forges appeared before them and the gnome positioned his contraption next to the closest one.
“Ack! Why are they not running today?” Nettles asked in a panic.
“It's a holiday ya fool. No iron work goin' on with the amount of ale flowin' today,” Trudge replied.
“The ale is always flowing down here!”
“Ha! You ain't seen a dwarven holiday in Ironforge, me friend,” Trudge laughed.
“Oh bother,” the gnome replied in frustration. “Well we need to get one running and quick.”
The dwarf shrugged and began stacking timbers into the forge, lighting it with a few strikes of flint and steel. They patiently waited a few minutes, letting the forge heat up as Trudge continued to stuff wood and some various powders in.
“That will have to do,” Nettles commented, while mounting his iron turkey and backing it up flush against the forge. The metal almost instantly began to warm and the parts closest to the heat actually started to glow orange.
“Yer gonna melt the durn thing down,” Trudge said as he shook his head.
“Nonsense, nonsense,” Nettles replied. “A good inventor is always prepared.”
The gnome pulled another lever and several fans positioned at the back of the bird churned to life, cooling the metal just enough.
“So now what,” the dwarf shrugged.
“Now, we wait,” Nettles replied, hopping off his invention and finding a spot to sit for a bit. “This should cook all those turkeys in just a few minutes. I call it a convection forge oven. It's quite simple really, all I had to do was…”
“Bah! Save it,” Trudge interrupted, while plopping down next to the gnome. “Me stomach is growlin' and I ain't had any ale yet. Not in the mood to listen to yer jabber.”
Nettles shrugged and the two waited patiently for about ten minutes until the turkey head, let out a great “gobble” complete with a puff of steam. They both re-mounted the great iron bird and set off back up the tunnels out of the forge. As they passed the busier areas of the city, dwarves and gnomes scattered before the mechanical monstrosity, some in awe, others in anger, but nearly all ended up following behind it.
“There!” Nettles exclaimed, pointing towards one of the largest building in all of Ironforge, the Great Feast Hall. The massive stone building, adorned with rows and rows of tables and benches, could hold nearly a thousand dwarves. The great bird, veered towards it, chugging along as the front doors were shoved open by a dozen stout dwarves.
Nettles entered the hall and positioned the bird in one of the back corners, throwing the last lever as the beast settled down. Another “gobble, gobble” was let out and the whole back panel of the bird, flopped open, revealing over three hundred perfectly roasted turkeys.
"Dinner is served!” the gnome announcing, jumping with glee. The numerous dwarves that had followed them into the hall let out a huge cheer, except for one.
“Uhh Nettles?” Trudge asked. “Where's me ale?”
“Oh bother….”
Happy Thanksgiving!
