** A Trudge and Nettles X-Mas
“Don't be lookin' at me. I ain't had THAT much to drink…yet,” Trudge said as he watched the gnome stare through him, deep in thought. Nettles shooed the comment away with a flick of his wrist and began drawing lines in the snow with his finger tip, mumbling under his breath.
The duo sat high atop one of the frigid peaks of Khaz Modan, not too far from the entrance to the great dwarven capital, Ironforge. Nettles had taken out his latest experiment to test, some kind of portable flying contraption, and after a long hike to their current position, was just a little unsure if his calculations were correct. Trudge had plopped down in the snow and begun cleaning his gun while the gnome worked away, making adjustments here and there to his invention. After nearly an hour though, the dwarf was growing just a bit impatient waiting around in the cold.
“Ya know, I don't see why you be wantin' to fly anyways,” Trudge commented. “Seems to me all the best stuff be on solid ground. Ale, grub, fightin', did I say ale yet?”
“Hrmph! Oh be quiet would you? I cannot think straight with all your complaints,” Nettles sighed, kicking the snow in disgust.
“Bah! Fine, me n' Wilbur are gonna go look for some treasure to dig up then,” Trudge grumbled while motioning for his mount to come.
Nettles shot Trudge a surprised look. “You named the ram Wilbur?” he asked incredulously.
“I ain't named him. He told me his name when we were havin' a few drinks during the Thanksgivin' Party,” Trudge replied matter-of-factly.
“He told you….never mind,” the gnome said shaking his head in disbelief.
“Come on boy, lets go see what we can find 'round here,” the dwarf said to his battle ram, while patting its head. “Let the gnome and his stupid inventions freeze up here.”
Nettles ignored the comment and went back to his thoughts.
#
Some minutes later, having completed their journey down the mountainside, Wilbur began pawing the ground around some jagged, frost covered, rocks.
“Hrmm ye be thinkin' this is a good spot Wilbur?” Trudge asked his trusty mount. Wilbur responded with a wag of his shaggy tail and a few bobs of the head.
The dwarf slid off and grabbed his pick axe, which stood nearly as long as he was tall. Almost as if dwarves could defy the laws of physics, Trudge sent the oversized axe bashing against stone and ice, again and again.
Time passed as Trudge continued digging and Wilbur happily munched on some carrots that the dwarf had brought along. Suddenly, Wilbur's head perked up and he gave a couple of soft bleats. Trudge stopped smashing for a few moments, wiping the sweat off his brow. “What are you grumblin' bout? I'm the one doin' all the work here.”
Again Wilbur let out a bleat, this time louder and more urgent. “Bah ye stinkin'…” Trudge stopped mid-rant when he noticed just what had the ram riled up. Four frostmane trolls had snuck up on the pair while they were busy smashing rocks. The dwarf quickly reached for his rifle before realizing he had left it back on top of the mountain with the rest of Nettles gear.
“Battle stations Wilbur, they don't look friendly,” Trudge bellowed as he gripped his pick axe in both hands.
The trolls, axes bare in their hands, covered in war paint, and dressed in wolf skins spread out before the pair.
“Well come on then, I ain't got all day. I got to git back to me diggin' ya stinkin' trolls!” Trudge beckoned as the pack of trolls bared their tusks.
#
Back high atop the mountain, Nettles was busy making final adjustments to his flying contraption. “There!” he declared, tucking the small mallet he was carrying back into his belt. “That should do it.”
Satisfied, the gnome began strapping his newest invention to his back. It didn't look much different from an ordinary backpack save for the gryphon feathers running down the side. Nettles made one last check that the straps were secured and all the pockets on his work vest were buttoned up tight, and then pulled a pair of goggles down over his eyes. “Whelp, here goes nothing,” he thought and began running down the side of the mountain. Pushing off as hard as his legs could, Nettles tugged on the two loose ropes, one near each of his shoulder straps. Two wide, bird-like wings, extended from the sides of the pack, followed by an explosive thrust of fire out the bottom and his feet never touched back down to the ground.
The gnome soared upward towards the clouds until the flame burst halted, allowing him to glide along the on the winds. “Wooohooo!” he yelled in excitement, before a loud rumbling sound drew his attention back to the mountainside. Apparently his little fire thrust, had melted much more snow than he thought it would and now snow from the very top was unsupported and beginning to slide.
Nettles made a turn, bringing him back towards the mountain, watching with fascination as the beginnings of an avalanche took shape. Snow shifted and slid, then finally broke loose tumbling down the mountainside gaining in mass and causing more chunks to break free.
“Trudge!” Nettles suddenly thought, wondering just where the dwarf had wandered off to. Reaching into a vest pocket, the gnome pulled out a retractable looking glass and extended it out. Looking in all directions, Nettles could only hope that his dwarf friend was no where near the mountain.
#
Trudge swung his pick axe out wildly driving the pack of frostmane trolls back while spitting out another line of curses at the creatures. A chill went up the dwarf's spine as he hopped back another step, adding to the distance between him and his attackers. Wilbur bleated and took off in a dash directly at the trolls. The creatures so surprised by the move, didn't even have time to raise an axe as the battle ram's horned head smashed into the nearest one and just kept going. Despite the troll's greater size it was flung back and then run over by the crazed ram.
“Ye coward…” Trudge yelled at Wilbur until he realized it had gotten dark suddenly. Looking up, the dwarf saw a massive snowball had tumbled down the mountain and gone airborne. Trudge dove out as the snow ball hit and then watched it roll forward taking another troll with it as it continue to roll down into the valley.
“Bah! This ain't even fair now, only two trolls left?” Trudge grumbled, grabbing his pick axe once more. The remaining trolls started forward, but then suddenly stopped, one pointing behind Trudge.
“I ain't fallin' fer that ye…stink…'n…” Trudge trailed off and scratched his head as the two trolls turned and ran away. The dwarf spun around as a loud rumbling noised, growing quickly louder rose up from behind him. “Avalanche!?!” Trudge exclaimed as his eyes went wide in shock. Then he noticed a smaller shape just ahead of the rushing snow. “Nettles?”
#
Nettles tugged on the rope controlling his afterburner and shot forward again. It was getting difficult for him to stay ahead of rushing snow. Swooping in low, he had finally spotted Trudge standing still just in awe of the mass of snow racing towards him. “Hrmph! Run you stupid dwarf!” Nettles yelled, but Trudge didn't move.
The gnome swooped in even lower, just mere feet from the ground and dropped his arms. “Grab on!” Nettles shouted as he approached the frozen dwarf. Trudge snapped out of his daze and wrapped his arms around the gnome as he flew past.
“Ya brought the whole mountain down ya durn gnome!” Trudge bellowed.
“Quiet! I'm trying not to crash,” Nettles snapped back while weaving in between trees and slowly sinking closer and closer to the ground. “This wasn't meant for two!”
Nettles tugged once more on his burst rope and pulled up with all his might. The engine roared to life, sending out a stream of flame rapidly shooting the pair straight up into the air as the snow filled in the valley below.
“Ye dun it!” Trudge yelled. “Ye saved us. I could kiss ya if ya hadn't nearly killed me to begin with!”
“Hrmph, you're welcome,” Nettles replied as the last bit of flame sputtered out of his rocket engine.
The gnome began gliding back down towards the mountain, as the falling snow had finally settled, bringing them to a crashing and tumbling stop.
“Blast! I need to work on that,” Nettles mumbled while looking at a wing that had broken during their crash.
“Don't be worrin' bout that,” Trudge hollered while running past the sitting gnome. “Look!”
Nettles shrugged his contraption off his shoulders and pulled up his goggles to see what the dwarf was running towards. Where the snow had slid off the mountain a large cache of gold ore was exposed and glittering in the sunlight. Nettles had to shake his head and pinch himself to believe it was real. Even more unbelievable was a certain familiar ram galloping past him and towards Trudge.
“Well this is certainly a nice present,” Nettles thought to himself and the gnome raced forward to join his friends.
Happy Holidays!
