A Day in the life of a Brownie Named Wendel

A fun little piece featuring the hero of my new project.

"Glitter, my shiny pretty," Wendle thought as he stared at the shimmering ruby. He lost himself in the depths of the fantastic gem. It was nestled between two massive creamy breasts that were smashed together with a way too tight corset. Instinctively he climbed for the magnificent jewel. SMACK! The poor brownie found himself hurtling through the air. Fortune was on his side as he landed in a bucket of sudsy water. The stinging sensation that wracked his body was almost too much to bear.

 

"You keep that filthy creature away from me," the angry woman yelled at Wendle's traveling partner. Wendle liked his new companion Aaruk. He was a druid and knew many tricks. He, however, had a taste for women. Wendle hated human women. They always tended to "freak out" and scream at him. What was their problem, anyways? He considered himself to be cute, and quite a conversationalist. Aaruk let his trousers drop. Wendle slid under the door. He hated to be around human mating activities. It tended to be dangerous around such huge creatures when they were being so active, and yet so distracted. Besides, he always felt insignificant and inadequate in these situations.

 

After battling the stairs for about forty-five minutes, he reached the tavern below. The place was bustling with patrons. A traveling minstrel was just taking the stage. "Just in time," he thought, then he found a nice spot near the front. He climbed the pile of firewood near the stage and sat eyes fixed on the bard.

 

"Patrons, patrons, hold thy tongues
Lo, there are many tales to be sung
So fill up thy wine, and tip back thy ale
For I the great Bruno shall recite thee a tale"

 

Wendle was intrigued, he had never seen a gnome before. And one that could sing? Tonight was the best night ever.

 

"We all love a hero who's both righteous and brave
We all have our secrets we take to the grave
So innkeeper, throw some more logs on the fire
And listen for these facts truly transpired"

 

"Transpired? What did that mean," Wendle's thoughts were abruptly broken as his seat lifted into the air and landed in the fire. The poor brownie shrieked in pain and leaped from the fire, rolling around on the hearth. The flames went out as the bard dumped a tankard of ale on him. Wendle looked up curiously at the singer. The tavern was filled with laughter, obviously at his expense. The brownie ran out the front door. He never seemed to fit in, always the butt of jokes, and of course, let's not forget the screams, and superstitions.

 

He missed his family. They had all died in the stiff breeze of two weeks ago. Fell to their deaths. Only Wendle had survived, and then only because a passing raven had swooped in to snag him as an afternoon snack. Fortunately he had escaped by tickling the foul bird's feet. Wendle wandered the streets of the small hamlet. Everything was so big. He had traveled with Aaruk for about four days, now, and had come to realize just how big the world was. Aaruk had told him of places that were months travel away. That's months of human sized travel steps. Wendle still didn't really believe it could be that big, but he humored the druid, anyway.

 

Wendle was so distracted that he didn't notice the large black spider that shadowed his every move. He only realized when his feet became mired in the sticky threads of the creature's silk. Wendle turned to see the furry monster bearing down on him. His mind raced. Suddenly a surprisingly familiar raven swooped in and crushed the spider in it's powerful beak. Wendle slipped out of his boots and pants as the mighty bird tilted back it's head jerkily swallowing the spider. As it turned to the trapped brownie, it discovered only some mouse fur pants and bark soled shoes.

 

Wendle was hiding beneath the stairs of a small hut waiting for the hungry bird to leave, when an aroma met his nostrils. The smell was divine. It smelled like beets, stewed with carrots. He also smelled something he thought to be what Aaruk had called lamb. He ventured further beneath the hut and peered through a knothole into what appeared to be a kitchen. A peasant human was cooking on a stove. The smell made saliva pour down his stubbly chin.

 

Slowly the pseudo-faerie stuck his dirt streaked face through the hole. He could think of nothing but the smell that filled his tiny nostrils. "MMMMMMMMM," he said. Slowly he pulled his entire naked body out of the hole. As if in a trance his feet carried him ever closer to that magical waft of heavenly board. Carefully he climbed the voluminous folds of the cook's dress. He soon found himself looking over the plump human's shoulder, down into a pot simmering with vegetables, and huge chunks of fall off the bone juicy meat. The steam rolled over his face allowing a telltale taste of the amazing broth. It was the dull purring sound that brought his head back into reality. It took the brownie all of a half a second to spot the most humongusest grey tiger cat the world had ever seen. Well at least he had ever seen. The beast was perched on a shelf a mere three feet away.

 

As he and the possible instrument of his death met eyes, Wendle thought of Aaruk. His friend was surely finished with the mean female and probably enjoying the minstrel in the tavern with all the "Ha Ha" riff raff. Then, the tiger pounced. Wendle jumped over the woman's shoulder and slid over her breasts into a pocket in her apron. The weight of the huge feline knocked her into the stove spilling the delicious smelling stew everywhere. The woman snatched up her broom and chased the cat swinging and cursing. She took no heed of the nude brownie sliding down the folds of her dress. Wendle ran across the floor and snatched up the biggest piece of meat he could carry, and dropped through the knothole.

 

After eating as much as he could, the naked faerie looked out beneath the steps of the hut. The raven was still waiting, but just then, the door of the hut flew open, and the grey tiger came sailing out landing inches from the startled raven. Wendle watched as the two beasts rolled across the ground, fur and feather filling the air. Wendle simply walked past them, and gathered his clothes from the silken strands of webbing.

 

By the time he arrived at the tavern, the show was over. Many of the patrons had left, and the gnome was sharing a bottle of wine with Aaruk. Wendle tugged on the druid's robe, and lifted his arms as if to say, "Pick me up you jerk, I need a drink". And drink they did.