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Glenn didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t a thirty minute wait. After the first ten, he and Kirby sat down with Stephi landing in between them. She didn’t sit.
Maybe it was Glenn’s gnome senses kicking in when he felt a tingle across his skin, like someone gently drawing a comb across it. The buzzing bugs and nearby birds fell silent.
Stephi looked around, wide-eyed. “Petie says he’s coming.”
Glenn and Kirby got to their feet. Stephi fluttered to a height equal to theirs.
A shimmering rainbow dropped down like falling streaks of paint. Where it touched, the meadow grass began roiling. Or maybe the soil beneath roiled and the green blades shivered. The effect lasted mere seconds before a huge iron kettle—or pot—of gold appeared. The rainbow remained, causing the gold within the pot to sparkle.
Bataí Fidil na Maidine strode around from behind the pot, chest puffed out and shillelagh in hand. He was attired exactly as before: Crayola green shirt with brown buttons that matched his brown trousers, and brown bowler hat. The hat sported a green feather stuck into its brick-red ribbon. His boots were also Crayola green and came to an upturned point at the toe.
The leprechaun’s curly red hair held wisps of gray, but this time appeared damp, as if he’d just showered. His freckled cheeks framed a wide, insincere smile.
Glenn reminded himself that the diminutive man, at least a foot shorter than himself, was dangerous. Not because of his physical prowess. Magic was the leprechaun’s strength.
But Bata Fidil came when called because the party had something he wanted. So he wasn’t one hundred percent in control of the situation. They had leverage, too.
“Took you long enough,” Stephi challenged, hands going to her hips.
Bata Fidil quirked an eyebrow. “And exactly how fast can ye go from one continent to the next?”
Glenn hadn’t thought of the world having continents. He’d have to see if Keri had a map of the world among the books in her third-floor workroom above the Stickley Café.
The gnome scrutinized the leprechaun. The distance travelled might be a factor, but it wasn’t the whole reason for taking so long to arrive. He looked around, and in the trees above, and listened. Maybe Bata Fidil had some sort of familiar too, one that he’d sent ahead, or had scurry out of sight during the rainbow’s initial distraction. If so, Ron and Derek might’ve seen it. They would’ve seen how the leprechaun appeared, too. It’s possible he didn’t know Ron and Derek were hidden among the trees behind him.
Glenn recalled the feeling someone, or something, followed them to the grove of trees. Did leprechauns use crystal balls or some kind of magic pools to see elsewhere? He vaguely recalled that from his junior high stint playing Dungeons & Dragons.
He tried using his nose, but the sharp scent of yew trees overpowered anything subtle the gentle breeze might carry upon it. At least in the brief time he had to test the air. It was up to him to begin the negotiations.
He cleared his throat. “We brought the coin. Your gold coin—the one stolen from your treasure pot by that the dwarf, Benxcob.”
The leprechaun’s face squeezed together like he’d unexpectedly bit into a lemon. “What happened to the thieving dwarf?”
Glenn wasn’t going to admit any connection to the dwarf’s death. “We took it from him.”
Bata Fidil shook his knobby stick. “So, ye killed ’em?”
“We got your coin, as agreed.” Glenn gestured with his right hand to Stephi. “Change her back to the way she was, as you agreed to do.”
She nodded and fluttered down to the ground, a half step ahead of Kirby and Glenn.
The leprechaun squinted an eye. “First, I want ta see me gold coin.” Then he spun to face behind him. “Annnndd...” He drew the word out, before finishing. “I want whoever yer companions might be, in the open, and comin’ around from skulking behind me back.”
Glenn suppressed the urge to smile at the leprechaun’s cheesy Irish accent. Obviously owed to the game’s designers.
The pot and shimmering rainbow, while blocking and distorting Glenn’s view, they apparently didn’t affect Bata Fidil’s. His senses were far more keen than a gnome’s.
“They’re not skulking,” Stephi said. “They’re here in case you try double-crossing me.”
Ron and Derek stepped from behind a pair of thick-trunked trees. They split up, and made their way along the edge of the clearing. Ron walked with cautious purpose and stopped at the leprechaun’s two o’clock position. Derek strode with a sneer on his face. He stopped at the ten o’clock position.
Bata Fidil grinned in triumph, until the two party members halted before reaching Glenn, Stephi and Kirby at his twelve o’clock. “I said, together.”
“You can see them,” Glenn said.
The leprechaun squinted, looking around. “That ain’t everyone.”
“Petie isn’t coming anywhere near you,” Stephi said.
“Petie?” Bata Fatil rubbed a finger under his nose. “Nobody hiding, or no deal.”
“He’s not a somebody hiding,” Glenn said. “He’s a bird.”
“And he’s not coming anywhere near you,” Stephi repeated.
A momentary gust of wind rustled the branches above. Remnants of it brushed across the meadow grass below.
“The blue jay.” Bata Fidil tapped his brown bowler hat. “Yes, now I remember. A familiar?”
Glenn ignored the question. “Return Marigold to her former stature, as agreed.”
Bata Fidil tipped his hat up with a finger. “Me coin. I want to see me stolen gold coin, first.”
“You can sense it’s nearby,” Glenn said, counting on what Ron and Kirby had told him and Stephi. Derek agreed, but the gnome didn’t give the big warrior’s advice as much weight. “So you know it’s here.”
“You tell him, gnome,” Derek urged.
Bata Fidil cocked his head Derek’s direction and mumbled something under his breath. A few seconds later, Derek’s breast and backplate dropped from his shoulders and thudded onto the meadow’s grass. The leprechaun’s spell had rotted the armors leather straps.
Derek clenched his teeth and held his tongue. He still wore chainmail and had his shield. But who knew what else the leprechaun might pull.
Stephi had gone from nervous to the edge of fuming. She turned to Kirby. “Gurk, put my cloak on the ground and then show this annoying little man the stolen coin that we got back for him.”
“Callin’ someone little sounds funny, coming from you, miss fairy.”
Stephi spun back and pointed at the leprechaun. “You promised,” she said. “You gave your word, remember?”
“That I do,” Bata Fidil said, an eyebrow suddenly raised. He tilted his head and squinted.
Kirby laid Stephi’s cloak out on the grass, and set her boots next to it. Then he reached into a fold in his boot and withdrew the golden coin.
“Why, you let that mongrel lay hands on me coin?”
The party gave the coin to Kirby because he, being third rank, had the best chance to make Saving Throws against any spells the leprechaun might cast.
Without a word, Kirby slid over and handed the coin to Glenn. The gnome held it up for the leprechaun to see, and then stuffed it deep into his pocket.
“Now,” Glenn said, “please undo your magic and return Marigold to her former self and stature.”
“Well, Jax, is it?” The leprechaun straightened his hat and then rubbed his hands together. “Doing that and regaining me coin is the point of being here. Right?”
Not wanting to say anything that might muck things up, Glenn nodded agreement.
Stephi fluttered down, and quickly lifted the hood and stepped underneath. She stretched her short arms along the shoulders, as far as they would go into the sleeves.
Bata Fidil frowned. “Awww, no glimpse of yer fair body for me green eyes as before?”
Stephi let out a long breath. “No, Mr. Fidil. Sorry.” Somehow, she managed to keep her tone light and friendly.
Derek argued that she should stand buck naked. It’d distract the leprechaun from any mischief he might plan. Ron disagreed, indicating that, “Marigold’s nudity would distract not only the adversarial leprechaun, but every individual involved in the encounter.” And, “There is a considerable probability a leprechaun will be less susceptible to such a carnal distraction.”
“Disappointing.” With a flourish of his left hand and a mumbled series of arcane words, the leprechaun completed his Transmorph Spell. Or undid his previous Transmorph Spell. Stephi’s wings shrank and disappeared. At the same time she grew, as if a camera’s zoom lens was a real, physical effect. As she returned to her stature, her head lifting the cloak by its hood, she pulled the front closed, covering her more than amply endowed body.
Glenn watched, amazed to witness the spell’s effects. The first time, she’d disappeared within her collapsing garments. Kirby had a ring that could similarly cause size changes, but on a far more limited basis with respect to both size, and duration.
During the middle of the Transmorph Spell’s effects, Bata Fidil muttered something else. Glenn’s attention shot to the leprechaun. The gnome internally berated himself for getting distracted.
Within fifteen seconds Stephi stood, filling her travelling cloak as she once had. She looked around, and down at her companions, her face moving from elation to relief.
“Now, you’ll be returning me gold coin I’ve been missing.”
“I’ll give it to him,” Stephi said. She extended her left hand down toward Glenn while clutching her cloak with her right, keeping it closed.
Glenn dug for the coin in his pocket, and took his eyes off the leprechaun for a second. “Just a sec,” he said. “It’s tucked beneath my coin pouch.” He realized something was wrong the same instant Stephi did. Her boobs were up too high. Normally their bottoms rested at a height to lightly brush the top of his head, if he stood close enough. Now, they were more than a hand’s spread higher. And she wasn’t even wearing her heeled boots. Either Bata Fidil had shrunk him, or he’d overdone Stephi.
Glenn shot a glance past Stephi, toward Kirby. And unless his half-goblin friend had been shrunk too...
Stephi’s beautiful face twisted in anger. She took a step toward the leprechaun. “You little creep.”
“This is coming apart, dude,” Kirby said. “Give me back the coin.”
Glenn complied and tossed it to his friend.
Ron, comprehending the deteriorating situation, shifted his spear to his left hand before pulling his silvered dagger from its sheath.
Derek drew his sword. “Fix her right.”
Kirby drew his cutlass. “Yeah, dude.”
Glenn unslung his shield and pulled his cudgel. He, Derek and Ron wielded weapons effective against the magical leprechaun.
Bata Fidil took a step back toward his pot, a playful grin on his face.
“Departing without properly rendering the promised service will not earn the return of your treasured gold coin.” Ron spoke as if lecturing a freshman who’d failed an exam due to partying instead of engaging in adequate study. “This potential impasse can be resolved without resorting to violence.”
Glenn sure hoped so. He’d seen what high-ranked magic users could do. What a magical creature like Bata Fidil could do frightened him. Killing the little man wouldn’t solve Stephi’s new problem. It would leave them with a pot full of gold. That selfish thought bit at Glenn’s conscience, until he rationalized they could spend it on finding someone to cast a spell to shrink her back—if that could be done.
“Oh, my dark-skinned friend,” Bata Fidil said, “impending violence isn’t nearly the concern for me as it is for you.” He tapped his shillelagh three times against the cast-iron pot. “Or, ’twill be the case, momentarily.”
The rainbow shuddered like a flag waving in the wind. Then an undulation in the colors, originating from above the trees, descended. From behind the pot of gold stepped a hissing lizard man. Standing nearly seven feet tall and armed with a nasty-looking trident, the man-eating creature stared at the party assembled against the leprechaun who’d summoned him.
A second undulating wave descended, depositing a hulking ogre. The huge brute smelled of foul sweat and fetid blood, the latter emanating from the stains of recent victims covering his spiked club. Glenn had encountered a couple ogres in the Monsters, Maces and Magic world. This one looked like their big brother.
The third and final wave brought forth a monster three times worse than the previous two, combined. The big monster didn’t even acknowledge Bata Fidil as the others had. Rather, it immediately turned its black-eyed gaze upon the party. The monstrous beast stood over twice the height of a man. It wore an assortment of crudely sewn furs over its broad shoulders and around its waist, covering only a portion of its mottled-green skin.
Glenn recognized it as a troll. His gnomish heritage—shared nightmares of his race—left no doubt. One of his few D&D characters back in junior high died fighting a troll. During that game encounter the troll monster regenerated from all wounds his party inflicted. Only fire and acid were effective. None of which they had.
Where the similar-sized ogre lumbered, the troll stepped away from the rainbow, showing tight muscles, ready to spring into action. Although the troll carried no weapons, it arrived spoiling for a fight.
It smiled menacingly, showing double rows of pointed teeth. Everything on the troll’s face seemed pointed. Its ears, its long nose, its chin. The black nails on each hand were sharp too, resembling talons more than anything else.
“Might you be thinking on amending your notion of violence?” Bata Fidil asked. He leapt up and backwards, landing atop his pot’s mound of gold. A nimble feat certain to impress any tree frog. He extended his hand. “Now, I’ll be having me stolen coin, and be on me way.”
“You’ll be on your way like a fall leaf taken up by a winter’s gale, Bataí Fidil na Maidine,” a high-pitched, female voice from behind Bata Fidil and his three enforcers announced, “once you fulfill your promise to Marigold.”