The Gnome Meets the Fae

"Words are just little shining wisps that flow like maidens through the air, son, and like maidens they may destroy you or put you back on your path or simply vanish, never to be seen again. You may choose to welcome the maidens, or you may shun them: but choose quickly, for she is leaving," said the old gnome.

Fizzlespizzle rubbed his nose and shuddered: the past few days he had been forced to make so many difficult decisions so often. Little Fizzle the miner, caught up in such complicated things, he thought to himself as he realized he did not even know the name of the gnome.

"Well?" The gnome in question was clearly getting impatient.

Fizzlespizzle picked himself up and wiped some mud off his breeches. He looked around the cave one last time. It was a damp, dark place: the walls of the old untended tunnels had too few torches, he thought to himself, making a mental note to suggest some improvements to the head miner. If that scary fae-thing ever lets me out alive, that is, he sulked as he walked towards the green door.

"That's the way, son. Don't fret, I doubt she'll eat you. And yes, she's a she, mind you."