Balls Deep

Prologue

From the mountains in the north came a strong breeze. The breeze swept down from the caves, down through many a vale and past several clearings in the trees. It passed a small hole in the ground, past two odd houses alone, through the trees and past a small village. The breeze carried on, from the mountains, all the way to the city of Balls Deep.

Balls Deep was the hub of the Gnome Kingdom, a land known for its diversity and vast range of interesting folk. Through the city travelled all manner of strange kin, driads, elves (the Tolkien kind), dwarves (the real life kind), plant people, and so forth. The city had been struggling as of late, however.

Every so often, from the shadows, towns and cities throughout the Gnome Kingdom were found attacked, sacked and burnt to the ground. Always the clues lead to the same perpetrator, and the Gnome King had had enough. If he didn't act soon, then Balls Deep would fall soon too. If Balls Deep fell, then the entire land of Dunganddrag would too.

By the back of the city was the King's palace, a monstrosity of chiselled quarts and silver. In the main room was a large hall, where several folk had gathered, after heeding the call from the famous and kindly King. The call was a call of war; he needed soldiers, adventures, heroes.

Several gnomes ran among the crowd of hardy looking men and women, a collaboration of different species, all harbouring several sharp and dangerous looking weapons. Old wizards had spell tombs ready to set forth devastating flames, and ninjas from the east had shurikens ready to fly.

The room suddenly went silent. The Gnome King's footsteps were loud and distinct, and all the room knew he was about to appear at the balcony above them.

Thus so did the tip of his hat, as gnomes are about one foot tall. Whilst a stranger to height, his voice was no stranger to volume.

"Alright you degenerate pieces of shit!" The proud lord said, and they all bowed low. "I have summoned you here for one purpose, and one purpose alone. I'm sure you all know the rumours, yes lads and lasses, we have a troll problem!"

Chattering broke out amongst the crowd, quiet murmurs and gossip.

"I'm sure you know his name. The common man fears the cunt! But you are not common men, you are my champions! Who is ready for the task?"

No one stepped forward for a moment, until one hand quickly shot up above the crowd. It was blue, and webbed. It belonged to an otterman, a blue species from the mysterious Otterman Empire in the south. He was far from home.

"Oh, me! Pick me!" The beast screamed in an innocent, childlike but oddly charming voice.

"You are a brave warrior indeed!" The King laughed a hearty laugh.

The crowd separated from the blue man, so all could see him. True enough, his entire skin was blue. He wore his hair in a long braid running down his side, and wore a small leather set of faulds about his waist.

"Hello!" He said cheerily, an oblivious look in his eyes, which seemed so distant.

"What's your name, lad?" The King asked, coming down from the balcony to see the young otterman.

The otterman looked blankly at him for a moment, and then the realisation of an interrogative set him. The otterman's face screwed up, and a pondering expression grew greatly upon it.

"You, you do have a name, don't you? You ottermen are strange folk indeed, but surely you have names?"

The otterman's face suddenly lit up again, and he smiled wildly. "I am Sedgory, hello! People call me Sedge! But people also say I am not the sharpest bulb in the tool shed." Sedge's smiled dropped into a look of further confusion.