The forge was as putrid as ever. The whole room had an acrid stench to it that Gnom could smell even from outside the massive, floppy leather doors. He’d known it all his life. It never got any better. That was probably by design, Gnom had theorized, to harden the sense of whatever poor soul was working it.

That poor soul had always been Gnom’s dad, one mister Orcman, who enjoyed it quite a bit, actually. He’d spent the past 90 years sweating through his work clothes and the last 50 trying to get his adopted son, Gnom, to take over for him when the time came. It never seemed to work.

Gnom moved the door aside and sauntered in. The whole room was bathed in a rich orange light and the beautiful smell of burnt and burning coal. He fought the urge to hold his nose.

Past the blacksmith’s shop in front was the forge proper, a huge piece of equipment that could’ve been built by Salum the Steel himself for all Gnom knew. It was an ancient thing, scraped of caked ash thousands of times. Gnom made an evil face at it and turned to his dad.

“Hey, dad,” he said, climbing atop one of the orc-sized stools under the workbench. “Any big orders today?”

“No, Gnomo, I can’t say there has been. It was a slow day.” His eyes were fixed firmly on a piece of unforged iron on the bench in front of him. He seemed to be examining it for something Gnom couldn’t see.

They sat in silence for a while, Gnom’s dad minding his own business and Gnom minding it too. He wasn’t completely adverse to smithing. In fact, he thought he was pretty good at it. The problem was that the work bore him to no end and made his bones ache like there was no tomorrow. Not the best combination for a lifelong occupation.

“What did you come in for?” his dad asked, breaking the silence. Gnom knew the question would come at some point and dreaded the conversation that would follow.

“Oh well, You see, dad, I erm…”

“Come on, Gnom,” his dad said, putting down the piece of iron. “I think we both know why you came in here. Might as well get it over with.”

Gnom had to hold back an audible groan before he started.

“Dad, I don’t think I can do this forever. I know it might be disappointing for you and I understand if you don’t want to… erm… talk to me anymore, but… I don’t want to be a blacksmith. I want to see the world and learn everything there is to know. So, I’m leaving. I’m leaving for Rattwater tomorrow.” He hung his head in shame and braced himself for a verbal walloping unlike any yet seen on Earth. After a bit, Gnom heard his dad stir in his chair.

“Well, that’s great news!” he said, hugging Gnom with his great, orc-y arms.

“What?” Gnom asked, choked by the hug.

“Yeah! You’re going out! You’re seeing the sights! You’re gonna meet people from all over in Rattwater! I’ve been there a few times myself, it’s a great place for industrious little fellas like you!” He let Gnom out of his overbearingly sweaty grasp.

“I don’t think I understand what you’re saying to me,” Gnom said.

“Oh, I think you do,” he responded, putting away a few of his tools. “You’re gonna meet enough hard times on the road out of Orctown as it is, I don’t need to be one of them. You, Gnom, are gonna be a star!”

“Ok, let’s not get carried away, dad.”

“No, it’s true! Now, let’s get you to Gruk’s for some pre-adventure celebration!” He almost carried Gnom out of the forge room.

Actually, he did carry Gnom after a while. You see, Gnom was a gnome. Adopted son, remember? Because of a quirk in gnome aging, his dad had adopted him when he was 30 and Gnom was 45, though Gnom was still a child at the time. This made their relationship odd in multiple ways. The ages combined with the size difference caused his dad to treat him both as a close friend (despite his young age in gnome years) and as a very small child. The flip between the two states was liable to give Gnom whiplash.

By the way, Orctown is a great place, if you haven’t been. The high streets of Orctown are always swarming with activity. A sea of green flowed through the various taverns and local family restaurants, most of which had to be open 24/7. There was even a Both Sides location there, like any good grouping of two or more buildings.

Mister Orcman, shoulders adorned by Gnom, knew the path to Gruk’s well. Most everyone did. It was the most popular grub spot in all of Orctown, the kind of place you’d go to discuss criminal activity without arousing suspicion.

But that was off the table for the Orcmans, too much celebrating to do! They walked into a regular’s welcome from Gruk and that day’s band. Gruk had managed to pull Bring Me the Bugs, the famous polka ensemble from Denn, who were ripping through their rendition of the old folk song, “Slinky Shmo and the Story of the Seven Sea Slugs.” It went something like this:

Shrinko, Slimy and Sharlie

Slim, Slam, Skarl and Steve

Going to gather some Spandy wood

Whatever they’re up to, it cannot be good

And they go, go, go to the Slink Shack

So they can trade some wares

Slug shirts! Boozles and berts!

Shmo will have them there!

Walking into the Slink Shack

They see wonders galore

Sleebos and geebos and slumberkins

Robbos and bobbos and so many more!

And they walk right up to the counter

And place the wood on the rim

Shmo counted one, two, three logs of wood

They had brought to him

Shmo counted one, two, three, four, five, six, seven thoods

And an eighth for him

The whole place erupted with applause as it ended. Slinky Shmo was known as the best Bugs b-side and any fan would agree that it should’ve been on their sophomore album, The Big Bug Bonanza. Gnom thought the rendition was far superior to the record, but then it was a live show sort of song.

His dad and him sat in a side booth directly opposite the small, wooden stage. A small orc boy of 24 or 25 scuttled up to the table holding two laminated menu parchments. It was Grup, son of the owner, Gruk. He smiled at the two of them and scuttled off before returning briefly to take the drink orders he’d forgotten. Mister Orcman took a gallon of Gruk’s ale, which was famous in Orctown for being so light you could see your devastated wife through it. Gnom had to ask four times before Grup understood that he did, indeed, just want some water.

“So, Gnomo, when you headed out?” his father asked after Grup had left.

“Oh, sometime tomorrow,” he said, waving Grup over again so he could order some food. Grup wasn’t paying any attention. “Maybe later in the day, so we can-”

“What about today?” his dad asked with a smile.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, we can send you off after we get finished up here! It’ll be so nice, Gnomo,” he said, polishing off his gallon.

“Erm, alright.” Gnom was starting to get second thoughts about the whole leaving thing. I mean, I’m not too bad at smithing, he thought. I could stay here.

“Maybe,” he said, “I could stay for a smidge longer and work with you at the for-”

He was cut off by a loud grunt that sounded suspiciously like the Old Dennish word for “No!”

“Ahem, excuse me,” his father said, clearing his throat. “Tell you what, I’ll show you something at the forge before you go. I bet it’ll make you want to get outta Orctown and see the world as soon as possible!” He sat up and waddled out of the booth, leaving Gnom in complete confusion. genuinely don’t know what’s going on right now, he thought as if being interviewed by Telepaths Monthly. And we didn’t even get any grub!

He speedwalked up to his dad and jumped onto his back, climbing back onto his shoulder. His mount was humming Slinky Shmo cheerfully as he almost skipped down the street. I am so far from the reality of this situation, he thought, that I am simply not going to question any of it.

They made their way back through the crowded high street. The carnival won’t be in town for another few months, he thought, so what’s with all these people out?

Before he could come up with a good answer, they were back in the stank. Just a terrible, terrible place to be. Just being in it reaffirmed his decision to leave. As he was pondering, Gnom got set on the stool by his dad, who started rummaging through his various containers. Apparently finding what he was looking for, he gave out an “a-hah!” and turned back to Gnom.

His dad held a pair of old, rusted tongs in his ungloved hands.

“These were the first tongs your grandfather gave me when I was a boy. They looked exactly the same when he gave them to me 90 years ago. I hope they are as useless cough useful to you as they were to me.”

“Did you just say cough?”

“Oh!” his dad said, not missing a beat. He turned back around and reached in a large iron crate behind him.

“This,” he said, holding out a small wooden pipe to Gnom, “was the only good thing he ever gave me. Still works!” He smiled and handed it to Gnom with a small burlap sack of some dried plant. The pipe was old but intact, and most importantly, orc sized. The thing was nearly as tall as Gnom himself. He had to strap it to his back with a strip of leather across one shoulder, which lopsided him quite heavily. Still, he planned to use it whenever time was available.

“Now,” his dad said, “it’s time you depart!” They walked out of the forgeroom into the shop. Inside was a single orc, looking around investigatively.

“Hello,” mister Orcman said, “how may I help you today?”

“Hello, mister Orcman,” he said, tipping his feathered hat, “I’m a reporter with the Bardling, I wanted to take your comment on the news that’s going around town.”

“Oh, of course! What would that be?”

“Well, if the rumors are to be believed, sir, your son is leaving today.”

“Yes! Yes, he is! He’s right here behind me! Come out, Gnom!” Gnom hopped on the counter with the utmost delay.

“What do you have to say about it, mister Orcman?” The reporter pulled a quill and piece of parchment from his back pocket.

“I see the news has spread through Orctown already and I’m here to confirm that my son, Gnom, is going away! I’m so proud of him for forging his own path, pun intended. Gnom, do you have anything to say to the people?” The reporter turned to Gnom for comment. Gnom’s hands went clammy.

“Erm, I’m sure I’ll be back soon?” he said.

“Now, mister Orcman,” the reporter said, “does this mean the upcoming jump in quality from your shop will be temporary?”