Archie rolled on like a perpetual motion machine. "The beast was mortally wounded, and tried to turn on us. Oster took a mighty boulder and smashed it until it was no more."
"Well, I… It wasn't that big of a… well… I guess…" Oster shrugged his shoulders. Had he known that in gnomish discussions silence meant agreement, he would probably have protested his innocence of heroism a while longer. But he did not know, so he did not protest — which was as good as admitting it.
Archie motioned for the sack. "And we found all manner of gems and magic in the creature's lair."
The gnomes naturally demanded to see the treasure, and so Oster pulled from the larger bag one item after another. Fistfuls of gems, long strings of pearls, and a set of plate mail of a golden hue, topped by a wondrous helm of similar color, ringed with gems. Finally he drew forth a scabbard and a copper-colored blade from the bag.
News of Oster's prowess (and his treasure) spread about the community quickly, and a number of gnomes came to surrender all over again to Oster (or rather, the Hero Oster, as he was now known). Archie had to tell his tale a second and a third time, and the hero's mighty attacks became mightier with every telling. Oster soon gave up trying to correct all the minor differences between Archie's version and his, and seemed to enjoy the attention.
Oster gave the bulk of the jewels to Archie, and the gem-stones to Kali. The mail, copper sword, and helm he kept for himself, as they were all man-size, and Oster was the only being currently awake in the community who matched the description.
At the insistence of the gnomes, he put on the armor, though he had to let out the chains on the side plates to their maximum length. With the helm down over his face, he looked like a clockwork figure or automaton, and the name Oster the Clockwork Hero went down in many journals that night.
It was only when Oster had finished displaying and giving away his booty and Archie had finished describing (for the fifth time) the masterful strokes that the Clockwork Hero has delivered against the hordes of serpent creatures that the trio went back into the house. Oster let out a gasp of shock when he saw the drawing room in shambles.
"What happened?" he demanded, looking at the broken table, the shattered chairs, and the crushed crockery.
"Well, that is…" Kali stammered, thinking that he had best use this time to tell Oster the truth — that his lady fair had woken and destroyed the room, all the while gleefully describing the tortures she would heap upon him, Oster.
"It looks like a fiend hit this place," continued Oster.
"Ah… yes. A fiend." Kali shoved the truth to the back of his mind. Oster had been a hero only moments before, and the truth would only hurt him.
Kali had no fiends illustrated on his spoon collection and wondered what one truly looked like, but taking a deep breath he plunged on. "Ah… A fiend was here. Tall he was, so that his horns scraped the ceiling, and with plates of red, hardened chitin jutting from his shoulders, and a weave of black wires where his mouth was."
"Was he large? Did he carry a sword in a mailed glove? And armor?" asked Oster, his brow furrowed.
"Yes, yes, he was, and armored all over." Suddenly Kali clamped a hand over his own mouth. In seeking to describe the "fiend" who had leveled the place, he had described the Highlord's dragonarmor.
"So," said Oster sternly, drawing himself up to his full height. "He lived through the death of his dragon. Why would he come here.. unless… the Lady Columbine? Is she safe?"
"She… ah… rests comfortably in her room. The fiend made no attempt to get to her." Kali hoped that when Oster checked on her condition, he was not knowledgeable enough to spot an additional bump where Eton had clobbered her with a shovel.
"He was looking for me, wasn't he?" asked Oster grimly.
"No. I mean yes. I mean…" Kali said, trying to avoid tripping over his own tongue. Other gnomes, such as Archie, could spin tall tales until morning, but Kali always feared that one word would fall against another and leave him revealed as a liar. "He was here, and looking for you, and was most angry when I told him you were dead. He wanted your body, but I said we had burned it. I didn't mean to lie, but it seemed to be a good idea at the time." And I mean that in all possible ways, he added to himself.
"You did well, little healer," said Oster. "But you risked much to deceive one such as that. He will probably be back. When he does return, we must be ready for him. Tell me, what is the condition of the lady?"
"She… rests," said Kali, still choosing his words carefully. "I have given much thought to her injuries, and fear she might not recover." He was going to add that it would be in everyone's best interest if she NOT recover, but he made the error of looking into Oster's face, and saw the pain in his eyes. The human had stopped being a hero and became once more a middle-aged merchant. So Kali said instead, "I have a list of further medications that may cure her illness. But it will take time."
Oster immediately volunteered to go fetch them, and Archie chimed in his aid as well. Only Eton and Kali would know that the lady was no lady, and the ingredients the Clockwork Hero gathered were mixed to form a smoky concoction, the fumes of which would keep the woman in her blissful sleep until Kali could work his own solution.
The next few weeks — the time through high summer — passed with as few incidents as could be expected for a community of gnomes. Oster the Clockwork Hero's prestige in the community increased as he slew a few of the creatures that had plagued the area, including a large hydra that ruled the Steaming Stream and a beholder that had set up shop in an ancient dwarven mine.
The fact that in the former case he was accompanied by a party of gnomes armed with Eton's automatic lassoprojectors and in the latter the sword he found had been forged specifically to slay beholders did nothing to diminish his prestige. Oster was well-loved by the gnomes, never more so than when he rescued the Kastonopolintar sisters when their alchemy shop decided to blow up on Solstice Eve.
Yet most of the time when he was not out adventuring or attending this dinner or that test in his honor, Oster sat by the bedside of the lady, now known in the community as Oster's Lady, waiting for her to recover, watching her passive, quiet face in the moonlight as her coverlets rose and fell with each breath. The gnomes respected Oster, and in turn respected his sleeping lady, so none of them mentioned her erratic behavior when she had first arrived, or that Kali seemed less effective than normal in working a cure. They did not want to worry the human needlessly.
Kali was miserable, of course. He knew the truth, more than any of his comrades, and it hurt him to see that he himself was responsible for Oster's heartache. It was clear that the human had built up an imagined image for his lady, a lady who, once awake, would undoubtedly shred Oster limb from limb. On more than one occasion, Kali screwed up his courage to the point where he decided to confront Oster with the truth. The gnome mentally rehearsed his lines and thought of every reason or argument why he should tell the human the truth. And each time he attempted the truth, the following would happen:
Kali would say, "Oster, we must talk."
Oster would sigh, clutching the hand of his beloved, and say, "Yes, I know I spend all my time here when I am not elsewhere. You think it unhealthy."
Kali would say, "Well yes, but…"
And Oster would break in with, "I just worry that some time when I am not here, the thrice-damned Highlord will return and hurt you and my friends and my lady." And here would be another room-filling sigh as he would add, "Is she not beautiful?"
At this point, Kali, hating himself every step of the way, would always remember a project that was half finished and leave the sighing Oster with his lady. The plate mail of the Clockwork Hero fit better as he got more exercise, and old skills he thought long-forgotten returned to him. He gathered many weapons and strange items in his travels around the valley, keeping for himself a clutch of silver daggers worn at the belt and a magical cape, but giving the rest to friends. Kali sent the hero out on nonesuch missions for unneeded materials, while he and Organathoran the painter — whom Kali had bonded to silence — set about their craft.