Spade Williams was a gnome which was the least interesting thing about him. He was from the Vidron tribe of forest gnomes. He had witnessed the treaty of Trim Croak which brought about Vidron’s entry into the Empire. A hundred years later Spade was an old man even by gnome standards. Generally speaking Gnomes lived to be about one hundred getting to celebrate a one hundred and seventeenth birthday was impressive. Even with that Spade knew this job was going to be his last.

  A gentle knock on his sturdy oak door brought his attention to the present. He rose to his feet and adjusted himself. It didn’t matter how fine his clothes were if they looked sloppy. The Imperial saying was the Devil was in the details. This would have been a great saying but Spade had met Devils. They were foul creatures standing at roughly 36 inches in height or roughly the size of an adult gnome. He had yet to actually meet a devil that was detail oriented but he supposed the saying had to do with poor attention to detail being foul. The gnome opened the door and bowed.

  A giant stood on the other side. Well the human male was a giant to Spade, he was normal height and build for a human. In general this human looked rather plain. His clothing seemed to be of gnomish make or at least gnome styling. Spade didn’t dress like a Gnome; he preferred to dress in pants, shirt, and vest of Imperial style. This man, Dooley Jones was his name, wore a long sleeve v neck, overalls, boots, and gloves in rather plain looking fabric. This wasn’t the garb Spade expected.

  “Come in,” Spade Williams said to Dooley Jones.

  “Are you the chronicler,” Dooley Jones asked as he stepped inside and sat in the human sized chair. Normally there wouldn’t have been human sized furniture in Spade’s office but this job required it. Spade was the Master Chronicler in Excellent which was the largest port city on the continent. It was his job to take down important stories, news, reports, and accounts of events for The Chronology, which was the magical library-like database. His last task before his retirement was to take down the life story of Dooley Jones.

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  “I am Master Chronicler Spade Williams, Advisor to Excellent, High Snap of The Chronology, Elder of The Vidron, Keeper of The Circle, First of the Gnomes, at your service.”

  “I’m going to have to insist on fewer formalities Master Gnome,” Dooley Jones commented with a bit of a laugh.

  “Yes,” there was a pause as the gnome teetered on saying sir. The gnome moved to his desk and took a seat behind it. With the wave of a hand several floating crystals materialized. They zoomed over to Dooley Jones and took up places around his face and head. Spade watched as the human moved around, delighting in how the crystals followed him so precisely.

  “You can began whenever you are ready,” Spade Williams instructed. There was silence for a minute. The gnome had a quill in hand and was looking at a blank book ready to write.

  “At the beginning,” Dooley asked seemingly unsure.

  “From your arrival, yes, there is a great deal recorded about the others but little about you and little about the founding,” Spade remarked. It was true that little had been written about Dooley Jones and it wasn’t until he had been practically ordered that he agreed to tell his story. The last story Spade Williams would ever chronicle.

  “I’d like to say it was a distant memory but I remember everything like it was yesterday. I wish I had a bogus memory but I’m gifted with amazing recall. I awoke…” Dooley Jones began to tell his story.