What started out as a fairly good day, quickly disintegrated for our dynamic duo. Gimble and Rat, having taken some inexpensive (i.e. cheap) accomodations outside of the Mage's Eye 1 in Highmoon, have set up a sage advise store, where Gimble could study odd weapons that were brought to him by the many adventurers of the city. The first customer was an incredibly stupid warrior, who mistook a khopesh for a new type of weapon. His ten gold went well to pay the rent. (I told you it was cheap).
"Gee, boss, this doesn't seem like such a great idea now," said Rat.
"They will come. Nobody knows more about exotic weapons than I do, except maybe Sycron 2 , but he charges a lot more for his time. I got a niche here!" said Gimble.
"Ummm, sure you do."
The bugbear looked at his companion, and decided he was hungry and it was time to eat.
"Food?"
"Food."
Rat climbs up onto Gimble's shoulder and they carefully tack up a sign that says "Sage out. Back in an hour." Soon the two are digging through a garbage dump outside of a resturant called "The Magical Kettle." The only thing magical about the place is that it was staying in business. The food was edible only by goblinoids and rodents, which needless to say, filled our protagonists' bellies fairly well.
Returning to the dull and weary duties of a sage, the two begin passing the time until another mark, I mean customer comes to the ramshackle building for advice.
"Rat, do you have a two of cups?"
"Go fish."
The hours pass and as they are about to put up the sign saying that the sage has ended his hours, an old man walks in.
"Hey, buddy. We're closed, can'tcha read a damn sign?"
"My, a talking rat. How amusing. I assume that you are servants of the Weapon Sage?" said the visitor. "When you assume, you make an ass out of u and me."
"Rat, behave, this man is a customer. I am the Weapon Sage." said Gimble.
The man looks genuinely shocked to hear that a bugbear with a talking rat on his shoulder is a respected sage, and a licensed one to boot.
"What can we do for you, identify a weapon? Recount its history? Find a certain weapon? Extraple...extra...talk about the virtues of weapons?"
"Ummm. No."
"Design specis..schem...designs of exotic weapons?"
"No, I have a business proposition for you."
Rat's eyes light up, as do Gimble's. Business was always good, and a sage that had a patron NEVER had to eat out a dumpster. They could get served in all the good resturants, except maybe the Elven ones, but that's what happens when you are a bugbear. Sometimes being a sage just isn't enough for some people.
"Please come in! Our door is always open for those who are offering us a business proposition!"
"Yeah, money is good."
"Thank you, Rat."
"Your rat is named Rat?"
"Could YOU think of a better name?"
"Mickey?"
Rat hisses at the man, and he shuts his mouth.
Gimble bows and shows the man inside.
"So, what can we do for you?"
"I am looking for the Lost Armory of Highmoon."
"Don't look at me, I didn't touch it."
"Rat! The lost armory? I am intrigued, tell me more."
The old man held his hands wide and an illusion came to being.
"Neat. Do you do children's birthday parties?"
"Rat! Continue, please."
The man begins to relate his story, and as he does the illusion shows the action.
A long time ago, when the Walls of Highmoon 3 where first constructed, the city founders decreed that Highmoon would be the safest city on all of Galon. The walls were one part of that plan. The other was The Armory. Now, the Armory was not a building, or it would be easy to find, but a rather a magical construct. When a weapon was taken from someone it was put into the Armory, and should the need arise, all the citizens of Highmoon could dip into the Armory and pull out the weapon that they would feel the most comfortable with. Therin lies the problem. The Armory's retrieval spells were never completed, because the old mage who was creating it died. By then hundreds, if not thousands of weapons had been placed into the Armory, never to be retrieved again. Soon the guards, and possibly some of the elder mages of the city used it to dispose of any weapons that were too dangerous to have lying around. Then it disappeared.
"Ok, I know weapons themselves. Not mystical constructs. Why did you come to me?" said Gimble.
"I know that there are weapons that are stored there that would be of great interest to someone like you. I know that you will find a way to not only get into the Armory, but also to remove weapons from there."
"All right, so we get the nice little benefit of finding a lost treasure of Highmoon, and all the weird weapons the Boss can carry, what the hell do you get out of it?" said Rat.
"All of the mundane weapons. The magical would naturally be handed over to the authorities. I am a businessman and could finance your little shop for quite a few years on the profits from the sale of weapons that cost nothing."
The man could almost see the dollar signs in our protagonists' eyes. "I take it we have a deal?"
"You bet your garbage you do!"
"Rat, I'll do the talking. You bet your garbage you do!"
"Very well. I leave you to your mission. I will be in touch."
With that the man fades from view. The two friends look at each other.
"So what now, boss?"
"We do the same thing we do every night, Rat. Try and find new and exotic weapons to study!"
"You know, that is getting a little tiring. I mean, come on, that is soooo passe!"
"Ummm, yeah. Let's go to the library."
"Shouldn't we be looking for the place?"
"I don't trust that guy. I want to check out his story."
The two friends walk out of thier humble abode and hail a carriage.
The kobold 4 runs them at breakneck speeds through the center of Highmoon, only to get to the Library 5 as it is about to be closed. Mrs. Seldom 6 is putting the key of the main gate into the lock. "Wait!" Gimble calls out.
Mrs. Seldom turns around slowly and glares at the two of them from above her severe spectacles. Even though the bugbear's ears were easily a foot above the Archlibrarian's brow, she gave the impression of being much taller. "Gimble," she says, in a voice that most people would reserve for words such as "cockroach." Her gaze never leaves his. "What can I do for you." It was not a question.
"I need in the library!" gasps the bugbear.
"The Library is closed for the night," she replies, her voice dropping the capital "L" in place quite naturally. "There are no evening hours on Fridays, nor have there ever been. You will have to wait until tomorrow."
"I can make it worth your while, baby!" says Rat.
Mrs. Seldom and Gimble both turn to him. "SHUT, UP, RAT!" says Gimble. Mrs. Seldom said nothing. Her withering stare said it all.
"Mrs. Seldom," says Gimble, "I am usually up all night anyway. Why don't you lock me inside the library! With all the magical protections in there, you know I could never steal anything 7 ."
The Archlibrarian regards Gimble impassively for several seconds. "It is against the normal Library policy," she says. "However, I will make an exception for you. This once, and this once only. Should anything be damaged or disordered...you will report directly to me in the morning." The pause is which follows is terrible. "Am I clear?" Gimble can only nod.
"You know, for a human, you're all right," says Rat, breaking the silence.
Mrs. Seldom slowly turns her gaze to Rat. "And you," she says, with elegant control, "are precisely what would be expected of a member of your species."
"I take that as a compliment to myself, and an insult to those who are less fortunate than myself," the rodent replies.
Not a muscle twitches on Mrs. Seldom's face as she glares at Rat for a moment longer, then turns around and unlocks the door. She opens it wordlessly and stands with her hand on the elaborate brass knob. "I will expect you at the front desk first thing in the morning."
Gimble and Rat hurriedly walk into the library, and Mrs. Seldom closes the door and locks it behind them. As she walks away, she turns back to the building for a moment, watching a light move in an upper-story window, and pauses briefly to wonder if it was wrong not to warn them about the ghosts.
"Ok, we're in. What do we do now, Boss?" said Rat.
"Local History. I think those are green books. Yes, green. 8 "
Our unlikely librarians walk to where the green books are and start paging through the tomes that are stacked up from floor to ceiling. Hours pass, and the two are starting to feel the lethargy of reading.
"YAWWWWWNNNNN. Find anything, Boss?"
"Just something in this Legends and Lore of Highmoon book, but everything in here is stories people tell their kids at night to make them behave. There's a whole chapter on the Sewer Monster 9 ," says Gimble, blinking his eyes.
A book with the title "Magical Happenings of Highmoon" floats by Rat's nose. "Hey, whatta 'bout that one, Boss?" he asked, watching it warily.
Gimble looks up and sees the book floating around in front of Rat. He reads the title. "You mean that floating one? I already looked, just a footnote." Shaking the sleep out of his head, Gimble looks again. "Is that book floating?"
"Ummm, yeah," Rat says. "Wait a second-- it's FLOATING!"
"How?"
A quavering voice suddenly fills the air.
"We are the spirits of unreturned books! YOU HAVEN'T PAID YOUR LATE FEES!"
"Rat?"
"Boss?"
"I think we should run."
"Yeah."
Gimble snatches up Rat and runs for the nearest exit, which happens to be a window. They go crashing through it. Then they notice that they aren't on the first floor.
The floating book drifts slowly to the floor. The two gnomish illusionists step out of the shadows of the Local History room, and congratulate themselves on scaring the kobold dung out of some poor bugbear. They never even stop shaking hands long enough to notice the angry, misty, and very non-illusionary spirit materializing behind them.
Sailing out over the street, Gimble and Rat plummet. "We're all going ta die!" screams Rat.
WHAM!
The odd couple land inside of a garbage wagon that is going down the street. "Thank the gods for garbage wagons!" said Gimble.
"Is it me, or do we tend to end up in a lot of garbage wagons, Boss?" said Rat, rising up from under a pile of potato peels.
"We do. 10 "
The pair save their strength for the end of the line, where it will take some fancy footwork to avoid the incinerator. Not that this is a problem for them; they could do it in their sleep now. Actually, they have.
Walking through the Shambles 11 , they discuss what they have learned over breakfast. "So, like the man says, what did we learn, Boss?"
"What man?"
"Never mind, what did we learn?"
"Well," says Gimble, "One thing that all the sources agree on is that the Armory could be filled at any guardhouse in the city. Beyond that, they all agree with Mr...uh, what's his name again?"
"He didn't tell us, Boss."
"Right, they all agree with what's his name."
"So we just go look at the guardhouses, then."
"Not so simple. None of the guardhouses in existence now were in existence then, with one glaring exception."
"Which is?" says Rat.
"The Block."
"We aren't going there, are we?"
"Yes, we are," said Gimble.
"Great. We're going to die."
Now at this point it might be a good idea to say what the Block is. The Block is an old guardhouse/prison in Ironheir's Plaza 12 . And let's just say this, you don't get sent to the Block for drinking too much in the dwarven district...
By noon, our two protagonists are deeply involved in bureaucracy to get permission to examine the Block. Gimble crouches uncomfortably beside a dwarf-sized chair as he fills out the paperwork 13 .
"'To the best of your knowledge, do you have anyone planning to get inside of the Block with your clearance using any inappropriate means, e.g. spells, costumes, or wild stories about mother's dying?' What kind of question is that?" exclaimed Gimble.
"Ahh, just put no, Boss."
"I mean, do you know of anyone planning to get inside
with our permission?"
"No."
"Then there you go. Just sign the damn thing, and let's get on with this."
With the last of the paperwork signed, the boys begin a top-to-bottom search of the Block. Now this is the point of the story where one would expect to have them get accosted by prisoners, or for the people getting in without clearance to show up, but actually, nothing really happens. Well, not exactly nothing.
In the third guard tower on the south side of the Block, the boys decide to sit down for a bit of dinner. The stale salami and bread that they picked up in the dump is not the worst they have ever had (after all, they frequently 'dine' at the Magical Kettle), and after the meal, they quietly fall asleep.
Then they begin to dream. Cue eerie music...
Gimble and Rat are sitting in a bar. With drinks. They haven't been able to afford to get drinks in a bar since...
"Uh-oh. Rat, I think we're in trouble."
"Why's that?"
"When was the last time we could afford drinks, even in our dreams?"
"When that wacked out guy, Kelindo...damn, we're screwed 14 ."
"Yup."
They dejectedly return to thier drinks, deciding to enjoy the moment while they can and wait for that mysterious stranger, Kelindo, to walk in and spoil all of their drinking. Eventually, a cloaked figure shows up.
"Kelindo, I presume," says Gimble.
"Whaddya got now? Plagues, locusts? What?" says Rat.
"Who is Kelindo?" says the cloaked figure. He removes his hood to reveal...SIR ALEC GUINESS! Not that they would know who Obi Wan Kenobi was anyway 15 .
"Not you," says Gimble. "I think we have to wait some more. See we're dreaming, and every time we can afford drinks in a dream this messed up guy comes and messes with us."
"Yeah, he's a real jerk," added Rat.
"I see," says the stranger. "Would it help if I told you who I was? And why I summoned you here?"
"Sure, knock your robe off," says Rat.
"I am Trevis the Weaponsmith, creator of the Armory of Highmoon. I have deemed that you are worthy to find the Armory."
"That's just great, pal."
"Does your familar always talk like that?" Trevis says to Gimble.
"He's not my familar. He's my best friend."
"Oh."
"So why did you wait until now to tell people where the Armory was?" Gimble asked.
"There was no reason. But now, Highmoon is in its gravest danger ever, and its people will need to rise to its defense."
"OH, here I was thinking that it had something to do with me, the Master Sage of Weaponry."
"That too. Since the founding of Highmoon, no one has had my love for weapons of all forms, except for you. Unlike the warriors that profess a love of weapons, but truly only desire their results, or the dwarf who loves the craftmanship of a well-made weapon, you, Gimble, love the weapon for what it is. A weapon, nothing more, nothing less. It is an honor to share my hoard with one such as yourself."
"I thank you," says Gimble. "We will bring the Armory of Highmoon back to the good people of said City."
"Very well. Then I will reveal the secrets of the Armory. First, while each Guardhouse was a drop-off point, the guardhouse itself was not the drop-off. Rather, it was the warden's desk."
"The warden's DESK? What kind of hiding place for an Armory is that?"
"A good one, sir Rat. Would you have thought of it?"
Rat paused. "No."
"Neither would anyone else. A rather ingenius idea, if I do say so myself. To place something in the Armory, knock on the lower left hand drawer three times, and it will be instantly transported there. To remove something, knock three times on the lower right hand drawer, and say what you want to come. It will then be found in the middle drawer."
"I thought retrieval was impossible!" said Gimble. "The spells were never finished..."
"Like any mage would give up all of his secrets while he was still alive," said Trevis, smiling. "I bid you farewell, Master Sage, and Mister Rat."
With that, the boys wake up.
An hour later, they find that the desk in the warden's office was NOT one of the Armory desks, much to thier consternation, and the warden's annoyance. Think of Ian Craig 16 .
"Well, that was a bust. What now, Boss?"
"Well, it wasn't a total bust. We now know how to find the Armory," said Gimble.
"Yeah, but if the Block didn't have one of those desks, then they have all probably gone to the dump site," said Rat.
"Then we must speak to Rufus."
Boy, there sure are a lot of those stupid stars in this story. Far more than in the Greynor series, wouldn't you agree? Its almost as bad as that dumb show "Superfriends". Form of water my ass 17 .
Arriving in the Shambles the only way they know how, via garbage wagon, our protagonists go to see Rufus, the halfling in charge of the dump.
"Rufus," says Gimble.
"Why, if it isn't Gimble and Rat! Howya guys doin'? You enjoyen' our taxi service? HAHAHAHAH!"
"Rufus, you see a lot of things come through here, including desks, and I am looking for a desk," said Gimble, ignoring the halfling's laughter.
"For what? You goin' to be a mage or somethin'?"
"Not quite, but I need a desk."
"Well, the only one I got here is MY desk, and it's about ohhh, four, five hundret' years old. At least!"
"Perfect. Let us see it."
Rufus leads them to his office and they begin clearing things out of his center drawer. Then Gimble knocks on the lower right hand drawer three times. "Halberd"
Suddenly the middle drawer opens up, and a halberd pops out.
"By Mother's 18 foot hair! I didn't have one of those in there!" said the halfling.
"Rufus, I want your desk. It is well worth it to me," said Gimble.
"I don't know...now that I know I got a magic desk. Four hundred crown 19 ."
"DEAL!" said Gimble and Rat together.
"Whoa! You guys are really serious. Last I saw you, ya was eaten out of dumpsters. That's why ya end up here so often!"
"We won't be eating out of dumpsters for very much longer," said Gimble.
"Not if I have anything to say about it," says the old man appearing before their eyes. "Then again, you won't need to eat ever again!"
A blast of magical energy comes flying out of his hands and strikes Rufus in the chest, killing him. Killed by a magic missile 19 , , sucks to be a zero-level halfling, doesn't it?
"Oh, my gods! You killed Rufus!"
"You bastard!"
"You will be next!" said the old man. "I don't need anyone knowing about the Armory, knowing that I know the secrets it contains." The old man walks over and knocks on the lower right hand drawer. "Moonblade."
An elvish moonblade 20 pops out of the center drawer, and the old man picks it up. He drops his magical disguise, revealing himself to be an elf!
"Rat, I believe that we have just landed in the biggest garbage wagon of our lives."
"Yeah, I think so boss. Nice knowing you."
"I love you, Rat."
"I love you too, Boss."
"If you two are quite done, I will kill you now. It would be a waste for me to use my magic to kill the likes of you, so elven mithril will have to do!"
The man lunges at Gimble, who dives under the desk, which amazingly fits him. He knocks on the magical drawer (you know, the one on the lower right, and if I need to say that again, you need to read more carefully). "Net!"
A net pops out of the center drawer, and covers the elven mystic.
"What?!"
Gimble knocks on the drawer again. "Warhammer!"
A warhammer pops out of the drawer, and is quickliy caught by our large gobliniod 21 protagonist. He brandishes the average weapon in his hands. "Goodnight, Mrs. Seldom, wherever you are!"
He brings the warhammer down, only to be blocked by the no-longer-trapped elven blade. "This will not be so easy, cur."
Gimble grabs Rat off of his shoulder. "Rat! Manuever 26 and a half!"
"What's manuever twen..." says Rat as Gimble throws him at the elven mage. Rat smacks against the mage's chest and slides down his robe. Catching purchase (A hold, not a stuff at the store) on the mage's leg, Rat scrambles upward.
"Say good night, Magey!"
Rat clamps his teeth down on the elven mage's chromatic orbs.
"Arrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" screams the elven mage in a falsetto. Gimble brings down the warhammer on his head, knocking him out.
"Blech. I hate it when you do that!" says Rat.
"We won, didn't we?" says Gimble.
"Yeah, so what are we going to do now?" says Rat.
"I have a plan!"
"I hate it when you say that."
Gimble knocks on the lower left hand drawer of the desk. The middle drawer springs open. Gimble lifts the elven mage and slides him in, shutting the drawer behind him. "That's that."
"Okay, boss. What do we do now?"
Gimble turns to Rufus' crumbled body. "We mourn the dead."
"Sucks to be him," says Rat.
A little while later, having said their last respects to their fallen friend Rufus, the two hijack a garbage wagon and load the desk on to it. They take the desk through the rainy afternoon to the only person in Highmoon that they believe they can trust, Sycron the Collector.
They drive the garbage wagon up to the door of Sycron's tower. "Umm, do think this is a good idea, Boss?"
"Of course it is," Gimble replied.
"If you say so."
Gimble knocks at the door, only to find it opened by a beholder 22 .
"Ummm, maybe you were right, Rat. Sorry to bother you, sir, but we'll just be on our way!"
The beholder looks at them questioningly, or it could be hungrily. With beholders, who can tell? Our two protagnonists are lifted off their feet with the beholder's levitation eye 23 .
"What do you want, Sage Gimble, and companion Rat?" it asked in a deep but surprisingly cultured voice.
"Umm, we got something we want Sycron to look at!"
"Very well. Come with me."
The beholder lowers them to the floor and leads them deep into Sycron's chantry. The room is done in the style of a log cabin, with a fireplace surrounded by stone. Sycron is sitting by the fire in a carved rocking chair, with a cup of something warm. He looks up as the beholder enters with the bugbear and the rat. "Do come in," he says, in a soft, pleasant voice. "Kasharin, you may go."
"Thank you, Master 24 ." The beholder silently turns around and floats out of the room.
Sycron turns his attention to his visitors. "Ah, Gimble the weapon sage, and Rat. Please take a seat." A large chair on the other side of the room gets up and walks obligingly to the fireside. Gimble gingerly sits down. Sycron smiles. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this morning?" As with most visitors to the Lord Mage, Gimble and Rat were unable to tell for certain if there was a hint of cheerful sarcasm in his tone.
"Umm, the Armory of Highmoon," said Gimble.
"The Armory?" says Sycron. "A most interesting story, indeed. I haven't heard mention of it for perhaps two hudred years. Are you attempting to seek out that old legend?"
"No, we kinda, ummm...how should I put this, Rat?"
"We found it."
The Lord Mage of Highmoon raised an eyebrow.
"Really." "Yeah, its kinda like this..." says Gimble, relating the story, with embellishments by Rat. I'm too damn lazy to rewrite it here, so if you want to really do it, reread the stupid thing!
The desk, having been brought to Sycron, is now sitting in his antechamber. Sycron knocks on the magical drawer three times.
"Elven mage."
The elven mage, still unconscious, pops out of the top drawer
"That's the guy," said Rat.
"I have seen him," says Sycron. "He is an elven radical who has caused a great deal of trouble since the Twilight Times." With that, the elven mage disappears.
"You did that, right?" says Rat. "Please say you didn't kill him."
"Of course not," replied Sycron. "He is an elven extremist in a time of war with the elves. Such an individual may prove very helpful in a few...projects I've been working on."
Gimble turned over the word "projects" in his mind before answering. "Oh, good. So what are you going to do with the desk?"
"You say the mass retrieval spell was never completed...correct?" said Sycron, peering at the sage out of the corner of his eye.
"Yup, that's right."
He nodded. "A most interesting piece, indeed, and one which bears further study. It will round out my collection of city historical artifacts nicely."
"Ummm, Lord Sycron...I know you weren't the guy that hired us, and seeing as HE probably won't be paying us anytime soon..." Gimble began.
Sycron smiled slightly. "You would like me to pay your finder's fee."
"Ummm...yeah."
"It was not a contract I requested, Gimble." The smile never leaves his face, and his voice carries just the slightest hint of amusement.
"Okay, it didn't hurt to ask." Gimble and Rat turn toward the door.
"Going so soon?"
Gimble and Rat freeze in mid-step. "Sorry," says Gimble. They turn around, return to the chair, and sit back down.
Sycron smiled again, more broadly this time. "You realize, of course, that should this desk be revealed as a genuine conduit to the Armory, and I were to give it over to the city...you would be considered heroes?"
Rat speaks first. "Gee, I never thought I'd be a hero!"
"Nor I, Rat."
"However...I am somewhat loathe to part with such an exquisite specimen," says Sycron, glancing at the desk. "I did not contract with you to acquire this item...but you have brought it to me, and honed my curiosity. I will not pay you a finder's fee for this one...but I strongly suspect that others like it may still exist somewhere in the city. Should you locate any other such items and bring them to me, rest asured you will be handsomly rewarded." He pauses and studies Gimble's face. "A fair agreement?"
Gimble turns to Rat. "Rat, it looks like we have something we'd never thought we would have."
"What's that, boss?"
"Gainful employment."
So that is where our heroes' story ends, for now. But there are still unanswered questions (I thank God for unanswered Prayers...oh wait, that's Garth Brooks, never mind)! For instance, what happened to Rufus? Did they just leave him lying there? Or where did that elven mage go? Do we want to know? And exactly what kind of trouble was he causing? Personally, I doubt it was as simple as putting up graffiti that was derogatory to Sycron's mother! What about the other desks? Are there any more, for that matter? Can Sycron discover the mass retrieval spell, or will he not bother? After all, it is a nice desk, and why ruin it with spells? Will Gimble and Rat finally be able to eat out of something other than garbage wagons? Only time will tell.
For more information on the past, present, and future of the Dumpster Duo, go to "Gimble and Rat: The Inside Scoop" !
Footnotes
1. A district located near the center of Highmoon, bordering on the Citadel, the Craft District, and the Diamond District. The Mage's Eye is the center of Highmoon's academic life, and is home to most of the city's scribes, libraries, sages, historians, academies of learning, and, of course, mages.
2. Sycron the Collector, who has the honorary title of Lord Mage of Highmoon, is considered to be the most powerful living wizard on Galon. He is an eccentric conjurer known for his vast intelligence, his habit of cheerfully meddling in both local and world politics, his calm but perpetually polite arrogance, and his apparent disdain for the trappings of authority in both church and state. He is best known, however, for his incredible collections of virtually everything imaginable, from quill pens to bound elementals. Sycron lives in a white tower in the Mage's Eye which apparently changes size at random, and visitors claim that its interior is never the same twice, with some doors even leading to two different rooms in the course of the same visit. The people of Highmoon are usually uncertain whether to be grateful for Sycron's presence or terrified of him.
3. Highmoon is surrounded by a dark wall which is an apparent imitation of the substance of The Gate, the mysterious cube of an unknown black metal which rests in the south of the city and predates its existence. The Wall is a seamless, smooth edifice some sixty feet high which completely surrounds the city, with periodic gates tunneling through its twenty-foot thickness. No known force, including battering rams, dragon attacks, and 9th-level magic, can penetrate the Wall or even chip it. The Wall seems to respond to the wishes of the people, however, and has obligingly expanded and contracted to accomodate every change in city topography that the council has voted upon. Highmoon has been besieged three times, and the wall has kept out every invader; during the Black War, it even formed a dome to repel the black dragons. The wall was the masterwork of the archwizard Polydius, founder of the city and discoverer of The Gate. Polydius spent his life attempting to open the mysterious black cube, and failed. His efforts, however, enabled him to replicate its substance and form a wall to protect the city which had grown around his research. Polydius took the secret of fashioning this wonder to the grave.
4. Those familiar with Highmoon know that this is Gyap, the fastest carriage driver in the city, provided you don't mind a bumpy and terrifying trip. Remarkably, the kobold has never crashed.
5. The Library of Highmoon is the largest organization of its kind in the known world of Galon. Home to an estimates one million books, scrolls, codicies, tablets, folios, and art objects, the Library is a dream come true for sages and scholars form all over the continent of Emrock. In addition to its obvious function as a repository of knowledge, the Library is home to its own institute of higher learning, which includes one of Galon's only formal schools of wizardy. The Library is jointly administered by the Mage's Eye and the Church of Escreles, the Garrite god of history and time, whose clerics dominate the numerous librarianships supported by the six-story building.
6. Mrs. Seldom, the Archlibrarian, has been the administrative head of the Library for over forty years. She is constantly stern, serious, and severe, and has an unnerving habit of appearing behind anyone who attempts any sort of mischief in her Library. Mrs. Seldom's steely glare is the terror of every student, sage, and priest in the city, and it is said that ever Sycron defers to her.
7. The Library has no mortal guards. They aren't needed. If Mrs. Seldom doesn't appear behind any prospective thief as he does his deed, then the Library itself will rise to the defense of its charges. Magical books and the constant presence of bibliophilic wizards have given the Library a magic of its own, and many an attempted thief has been found the next morning, all but unrecognizable through the paper cuts and occasional scorch marks left by wands of a style wizards haven't used for centuries.
8. Like most medieval collections, the Library of Highmoon has nothing resembling a Dewey Decimal system. Highmoon's classification system, organizing books by color within rooms dedicated to specific subjects, is considered a revolutionary advancement in library science.
9. Highmoon's most prominent urban legend speaks of a mysterious, blobbish monster with bones sticking out of its body and tentacles on its face. As the story goes, the monster was once an illithid (mind flayer) that was killed in an epic battle with an alchemist wizard in the tunnels under the Mage's Eye. Supposdely, the illithid's powers, combined with the magic of the battle site and the poisons used by the alchemist, revived the dead illithid as a ravenous, mindless monster bent on eating anyone who dared to enter its territory. Mothers in Highmoon put their children to bed by telling them that the Sewer Monster will come to eat their brains if they're not quiet. In a world with Markirans and necromancers, you have to pull out all the stops to make a good boogeyman.
10. Gimble and Rat met when Gimble fell into a garbage wagon that Rat was eating in, and the two of them were nearly incinerated at the end of the line. Since then, they've managed to fall into trash wagons on at least three other occasions.
11. The Shambles, located at the extreme southwest corner of Highmoon, is officially the city's waste disposal and dump district. Largely abandoned by the governing bodies of the city, it has developed a thriving economy based on businesses which can't operate anywhere else. Garbage is hardly the only commodity traded here, and rare is the man who will walk through The Shambles alone, even on a bright, sunny day. Rarer still is the one who walks out the other side.
12. The dwarven-controlled district, located at the center-sough of the city and bordering on the Craft District, The Heights, and Beodon's Way. Ironheir's plaza is known mainly for its steel, its steel weapons, and its diminutive wielders of steel weapons.
13. Dwarves seldom expect visitors of other races, particularly those the size of a bugbear, and seldom make the necessary accomodations. To their thinking, taller races have brought it on themselves by spending too much time out under open skies and unhealthy sunlight.
14. Kelidno, the Man of Mists, is one of Gregora's most feared denizens. Always appearing in a fog and clad in gray robes which can seldom be separated from the mists themselves, Kelidno appears in haunting dreams, tormenting those who interest him with their own failings and fears. He supposedly lives in a hill on the Moors of Endymion in Mealdra, where those desperate enough to seek his help can come for anything they desire...for a small price, of course. It is said Kelidno has sold his own soul three times to gain his power, each time wording the bargain in such a way that the demon never knew his soul was already pledged elsewhere, in hopes that when he dies, he can escape while the dark powers fight over him. Kelidno has not been reliably sighted for nearly seven years and is widely thought to be dead, but there are still many throughout Gregora who report sinister nightmares of fog and terror...
15. The webmaster accepts no responsibility for the appearance of Obi-Wan lookalikes on Galon.
16. An apparent inside reference by LAZ to someone in one of his own gaming groups. I don't get it either.
17. I watched Superfriends for years, and I still don't get this one. Readers?
18. Mother Danadrelle, the chief goddess of the halfling race on Galon, protector of the home and the family. Like all halflings, she has large tufts of hair on top of her feet.
19. The crown is the standard unit of coinage in Gregora. One crown is a single gold coin, and is the standard "gold piece" used on Galon and in Galon gaming campaigns. Average middle-class income is roughly 40 to 60 crown per month.
20. A simple, 1st-level mage spell which fires darts of pure energy at one or more targets. Magic missile automatically hits its target, and it is the most common attack spell among mages of all races.
21. These powerful magical swords are among the greatest treasures of the elven race. Forged from mithril, a brilliant silvery metal harder and lighter than the finest steel, and imbued through unknown means with the essence of pure moonlight, moonblades, are among the fastest and dealiest swords known to exist. Each is a true work of art, a labor of decades for a master elven craftsman, and very few of these priceless weapons exist. They are never voluntarily given to non-elves.
22. Believe it or not, bugbears are distant cousins of the goblin race, and for that reason are generally classified as "goblinoids," in spite of being excessively hairy and seven feet tall.
23. Remarkably for a wizard of his fame and standing, Sycron will receive any visitor who comes to his door with something interesting to offer him. A beholder is a scaly, spherical creatue some five feet in diameter, with a large mouth, a huge central eye, and numerous smaller eyes on stalks protruding from the top of its body/head. Beholders are almost universally evil, move by innate levitation, have a taste for human flesh, and command great magical powers. With such creatures answering his door, the expected swarms of visitors to Sycron are kept to a brave and/or foolish trickle.
24. Each of a beholder's seven to eleven eyes produces a different magical effect. Beholder genetics is highly plastic and subject to frequent mutation, leading to many individuals with variant eye powers, but the "standard" powers are as follows: anti-magic beam (central eye), telekinsis , charm person , charm monster , sleep , flesh to stone , fear , slow , disintigrate , cause serious wounds , and death ray . Common variant powers include ray of enfeeblement , fire or frost rays , lightning bolt , hypnotism , hold person , cone of cold , moonbeam , eyebite , and transmute rock to mud .
25. Kasharin has served as Sycron's butler for at least a century. Whether the beholder is a willing servant of the archwizard or a magically bound part of one of the Lord Mage's collections is unknown. Kasharin is immaculately polite to all visitors and speaks fluent Ilgarrite (Common). He has never been seen using any of his deadly powers, but rumors persist that the beholder is permitted to destroy and feed upon intruders, or those Sycron simply doesn't like.
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