Voolio crested the hill in record time. Not even a day had passed since they’d first met, yet they’d already found their destination, to the great amazement of Gnom. Long legs, long strides, I guess, he thought.

The sun was resting far above the sea, though the waves still shimmered. Beyond the field that stretched down the hill was the great port city of Rattwater, ruining the view. Gnom could see trade ships coming in and out of the docks, rippling the sea almost to white foam. His eyes were drawn to the grandest of the buildings, though he had no name for it.

“Voolio?” he asked.

“Uh huh?”

“What’s the big circle one called?”

“Oh hm… I think they call it the Call of Sium.”

“What does that mean?”

“I dunno.” Voolio stood still a while, just looking at the city.

“Hey, Voolio?”

“Yuh huh?

“Could we get going? I’m hungry.”

“Didn’t you eat something before you left?”

“No, no I didn’t,” Gnom said, reminiscing on the fiasco in Gruk’s. His tummy rumbled a little bit.

“Ok yeah, let’s go.” They continued on, down the hill and across the field, talking music preferences. The discussion was just coming to a climax when they reached the gate.

“I understand the difference between grasscore and mossgaze, it’s just that they’re so similar that it doesn’t really matter,” Voolio said.

“Oh c’mon, Voolio, it’s the arrangements that do it! I can’t name a single mossgaze song that has a singing saw, can you?”

“Herm, I guess not.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” someone else said.

“Huh? What?” Gnom looked around and saw that they’d already gotten to the gate into Rattwater. The voice was a guard, who was standing above them on top of the wall.

“What is your business in Rattwater?” she asked.

“Just stopping to visit!” Gnom said, a little too loud.

“Aren’t we all?” she said in monotone disappointment. “What is your business?”

“Oh, erm…” Gnom didn’t have an answer. He looked down to Voolio for help, who was quick to answer:

“We’re here for the meat market today. Couple-a’ hungry guys, aren’t we, Gnom?”

“Yeah, yeah!” Gnom didn’t know why they were acting as if they were trying to sneak in. He was pretty hungry.

“Well, alright,” the guard said. “Let them pass!” A creaking in the door followed the shout and before they knew it, they were on the streets of Rattwater.

Gnom could, for the first time, see the sheer volume of people in the city. Unfortunately, that meant they were all within smelling distance. Most of them looked (and smelled) like the types to take a vacation into civilization rather than live in it. Many a muddy-booted traveler crossed their path and occasionally bumped into Voolio, sending Gnom flying off his shoulder and clinging to the back of his shirt. Voolio laughed every time.

Slowly but surely they made their way through the densely packed menagerie to what seemed to be the main attraction, the meat market.

The smell only got worse as they approached. Among the plentiful fresh cuts available for sale, a single vendor was selling rotten fish of some kind, spoiling the whole thing.

“Why?”

“It’s a delicacy,” Voolio said, apparently catching on to what he was asking.

“To who?” A few people in that line gave Gnom stink eyes as they passed it.

“Ok, what’s the plan, Stan?” Voolio asked, clapping his hands together. Gnom thought on it for a second.

“Erm, I didn’t think that far ahead,” Gnom said, red faced.

“Alright, no plan then. How much moolah you got?”

Gnom reached in his pocket and took out his gnome-sized coin purse. Two flies flew out of it, leaving it empty.

“These damn coin eating house flies!” Gnom put it away angrily. “Nada.”

“Huh. No plan, no gold. Sounds like a good time to me! Let’s see if we can get some free meat from this one!” He picked a line at random, far away from the rotting fish.

“I’m not sure about that, Voolio,” Gnom said, looking at the hulking man behind the stall he was pointing at. “Maybe we should just go somewhere-”

“Faithless, unwashed masses of Rattwa- of Earth! The time has come to repent your misdoings and return to your creator, Moosa!”

“Who was that?” Gnom asked.

“I think it was her,” Voolio said, now pointing to a cloaked figure standing on a soapbox. “I wonder if this Moosa guy is any go-”

“He is good!”

“Oh!”

“He is really, really good!”

“Ah!”

“He’s better than most, I’d say!”

“That sounds pretty good, Gnom.”

“It’s a street preacher, Voolio, don’t fall for it.”

“He’s so good that he’ll even accept you!” the preacher said.

“Me?” Voolio asked.

“No, not you! She’s pointing to that guy!” She was pointing to some guy.

“Even with all the evil acts that you may have committed, he will-”

“They weren’t that evil,” Voolio said, drowning out the far off cries of the man.

“She wasn’t talking to you, Voolio! Let’s just go-”

“She’s leaving!” Voolio crashed through some of the adjacent lines and made a break for the preacher. Gnom could see her head hanging in shame as he hung on for dear life.

He managed to stay on and regain some of his dignity by the time they had caught up with her.

“Excuse me,” Voolio said.

“Yeah, what is it?” the preacher asked, slightly annoyed.

“I’d like to hear more about this Moosa fella,” he said, smiling. The preacher’s eyes widened.

“What did you say?”

“I said,” Voolio said, lengthening the a in said, “I wanna hear more about Moosa!” He sounded almost like a child.

“You’re serious?”

“Dead!”

“What? Oh, ok. Well, come with me.” She waved them to follow.

They all finished crossing the street and made their way through the door of a two story brick building. As they came to the foot of the stairs in the lobby, Gnom tapped Voolio on the side of the head.

“Yeah, what’s up Gnom?”

“Are you sure about this?” Gnom whispered. Voolio had stopped walking; the preacher was already up the stairs.