Gosmini

We haven't heard from our friend Gosmini in a moment, and as I promised more writing I will show you how life has been for the poor bloke.

Norb was it’s name, and it was home to just a few. With large trees that grew all around, aged many years beyond that of the town, an ancient forest swayed. The town was small, and run down, it had weathered many years in the middle of Narza. Many traveled through, and few stopped to see, only if close to the end of their long journey from land afar would strangers set foot at the inn.Only those who could see into the forests great eyes would understand why one would travel, specifically, to Norb’s lonely perch. Only those who knew of what Norb truly held, would find value in standing in its sandy streets. For it was nothing more than a cross roads, to Tayin or Soyetu’s Keep in the north. Or the capitol Rimold Narza, far down the road to the south. Since the last war the Dwarves had found possession of Norb, but even to them, it held no great secrets. This land, was to be unturned only in the great events of turned tide gone far, or an unfortunate fellow with good luck.

The elderly man walked out the door, locking it behind him, as he usually did. He trudged his feet down the same path that he did every evening. His old bones seemed to creak as he did so, despite having done so quickly. He let out a groan. “I’ve got to leave this place.” Unlocking the door to his small homestead he took step inside and looked upon his belongings.  As he slouched he let out another monotonous groan. “The same house, the same bed, the same store, and, D****t! The same problem as always, I’ve left my spectacles at the store again!”

A tight tension rocked Gosmini’s jaw as he let out a heavy sigh from deep within his chest. He stomped his foot on the floor as he turned, walking spitefully out the door. This seemed to be the case at least once or twice a week, Gosmini forgot his spectacles, pen, this or that. Just something that he needed enough to take the short walk back down the road from his house to his shop. It was usually no bother, as for a man in his late sixties he was quite agile. Gosmini quickly walked back down the dusty road, to the front door, unlocking it, and finally to the back room. When he had promptly picked his spectacles from the work desk he turned to walk through the doorway.

Gosmini was a Tailor in the town of Norb. He had spent many years in this town and had sold many great garments to many great men, dwarf, tin, nobles, anyone with enough coin and an interest in looking fashionable. Had he not been gifted in his trade, he would have never made it in this small town. But when he moved south to Norb, from the town of Tayin, he was followed by many who seeked his craft. He was the most skilled Tailor in all of Narza. Some spoke saying that indeed his crafts were that of magic, but Gosmini thought to know better: ‘a careful hand and a vision for fits would do well for any tailor in the world.’ he would say. He just happened to be lucky he thought. Nonetheless, our protagonist is busy doing something: Gosmini had gathered his thoughts and began to step towards the door.

But just then a crash came from the storefront. The sound like that of his front window being smashed by a ginormous rock. Then came the footsteps and the uneasy giggling, and a stern voice. “Grab those! They’ve got to be expensive.”

Chills ran down Gosmini’s spine like alarms of war, quite possibly Gosmini’s worst nightmare. His hand quickly slammed to his mouth to cover the impending scream. Gosmini was being robbed, and he had no way of defending himself. He was but a simple man in a simple town, he had never planned for the rush of confrontation and was quite unnerved. His eyes began to feverishly dart around the dark back room of his store, searching for anything that would give him some leverage. After a few short moments, he had grabbed a cane lying in the corner. Summoning the little courage (untouched in his youth) from deep within his belly, he stormed into the front room and quickly swatted at the first man he could see.

Gosmini shook in terror as the thief rose from his crouch. The man, now standing a solid foot over Gosmini, was made of nothing but brick. In his hand the same club that broke the window, now came down on Gosmini and cast him into darkness. Gosmini would leave this small town, not how he had wanted perhaps, but now, his departure was imminent.  

When Gosmini had finally awoken there was nothing to be seen except for the inside of a linen bag. There was a ring from inside his head as a terrible ache began to overcome his mind. He could hear the rustling of a cart and the feet of horses outside the sack which held his head. In the back noise a conversation that was indiscernible from the other sounds could be heard.

“I think he’s awake.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Look, his heads moving and he seems to be responding to our voices.”

“Ah, yes, I see it now.”

“Well, what do we do with him? I don’t see why we took him in the first place.”

“Well, either he joins us or he dies.” The voice let out a small chuckle. “I’m betting we’ll get our hands bloodied today.”

Gosmini was taken by surprise and was now full of discontent. This was not how Gosmini wanted to die. Not in a million years did Gosmini ever want his fate to be taken by the hands of thieves. But, there was nothing he could do. His hands were tied, his feet were tied and his morale had dropped to a new low. Never had he felt so dismayed. Not when his business almost collapsed from a winter too long and too harsh. Not when his home had been ripped by the winds of a storm. Not when his own child and only heir to anything that would be Gosmini had passed. Gosmini was mentally strong, he always kept living, but today had  torn asunder all that he had ever known. He was no fighter and could not join the rebel thieves on their journey for gold and treasure. He could not, even if he freed himself, overcome the huge man that had struck him in the head earlier. Even if he was free from his binds he would never be able to outrun the young men who had kidnapped him. He was hopeless in this moment.

The cart suddenly came to a halt and the chatter from the front had stopped. The two men in the cart with him had rose from their seats and took Gosmini from the floor. Briefly through the sack over his head he could see dim sunlight fading behind hills, but only for a short while as the two men carried him inside their safe house. The door shut behind the two men and the sack was removed from Gosmini’s head. Placed with his back against a wall Gosmini took a moment to look around.

It was dark in the house and looked more like a shack from the inside. Water seemed to be dripping from one end of the shack and a cool breeze came from a stairwell to Gosmini’s left. Gosmini could remember the scent, a daft scent, a stale scent of fresh air traveled through a dark moldy cavern; mountains. Even with this in mind, there were many places Gosmini could be by now as he was unsure of how long he had been out. The ache in his head seemed to tumble things in his mind, he just couldn’t focus on one thing at all.

Author's Note

Be harsh.