LORE: The Harlequin Hand-grenade
“She’s a genuine hero,” Chuck testified at Harlequin’s funeral. “She gave her life to expose our enemy, and to allow us the opportunity to stop a war.”
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Once in a while there are things of great import which may not seem so to others. For the sake of the innocent, people endure the loss of a loved one and make great sacrifices.
This isn’t one of those times.
Look, I love Uncle Chuck, and I feel for him, but I can only go so far in recording the history of this world. I’m making this entry to keep my word, and because the story is interesting. Not many know the origin story of the Gentre (Gnome) go-to explosive used in combat.
Just…take it with a grain of salt.
It’s All About A Bobble Duck
Morphiophelius Smith (Chuck) has an array of talents and hobbies. One of his passions is the raising of small and adorable animals. Miniature pigs, goats, an array of video game playing tree-jumpers (Jaime says you have something similar called a ‘squirrel’). Of the many creatures he cares for and loves, ducks are one of his favorites. He is fond of their variety, their beauty, the quirkiness of their personalities, and the complexity of their language.
I know, I know, I don’t get that last part either, but I swear he talks to his waterfowl…and they understand him.
Those of us closest to Chuck know that when he was at home, he was always followed about by Harlequin. She was a lovely miniature ‘Bobble’ duck, and if you met her, you’d adore her. Bobbles are small-sized sea ducks that can be found in west and eastern Humär, Pävarios, and according to Chuck (some days you just don’t argue with that mägo), Isumiir. They live along fast-flowing streams, rocky coastal waters, and wetlands with vegetation and trees.
I’ve only seen Harlequin and her mate, to represent their species, but they are small. Each weighs between 0.9 to 1.5 pounds with a wingspan between 24 and 27.5 inches, Harlequin being the larger of the two.
The point is, Chuck loved her, and Harlequin loved him back, having free-reign of the grounds & cottage. They spent many long nights laughing and chatting in the kitchen nook, over crackers and a cup of warm clam soup. As weird as it sounds, it was actually cute to watch.
It didn’t last, though.
A Ducked-Up Invasion
When the Horde invaded the outer rim of Humär’s eastern shores, they weren’t expecting Harlequin to be present. While scouting for a way past the University of Magic, the vallen discovered a strange structure nestled among the treacherous cliffs. The cannibalistic giants investigated, wanting no witnesses of their mission.
Chuck had moved the Cottage, taking a break from the world and the responsibilities taxing him. The eastern cliffs provided seclusion, while granting Harlequin and her mate an opportunity to visit with relatives along the cliffs.
The small band of warriors approached the cottage while Chuck and Dax were off fishing. The complex wards woven into the Cottage prevented entry into the structure, but that didn’t stop the invaders. I would have thought the smoke would be enough to get Chuck’s attention, but no.
Apparently, tree-jumpers love a good nut BBQ.
Hundreds of bobbles filled the sky, their squawks echoing as they circled the Cottage. Chuck and Dax ran back to find scorched ground and all but the Cottage itself burned to ash.
All his little beloved friends were missing…including Harlequin.
Following the fresh path leading down to the rocky shore, they discovered two bodies. A single giant, impaled on the jagged rocks,…and Harlequin.
Let's just say that Chuck's little friends were rescued from their captors, who drowned while attempting to row back to their vessel.
As did all the horde still on the vessel…and the vessel.
After it blew up.
Twice.
Harlequin the Hero
As Chuck tells the story, he and Dax inspected the vallen kabob and found a considerable amount of duck feces on one boot. It matched the exact spot where the giant had lost his footing above.
…and it smelled like clam soup.
“She’s a genuine hero,” Chuck testified at Harlequin’s funeral. “I know her better than anyone but George, and we agree. Harlequin knew that if those scouts were to escape with a map to those cliffs, Humär would never be safe from invasion. She gave her life to expose our enemy, and to allow us the opportunity to stop a war.”
12,644 of Harlequin’s closest friends and relatives attended the funeral, except her cousin, Jane.
…but that’s Jane for you.
Morphiophelius Smith conducted the funeral, while Harlequin’s mate, George, gave her eulogy. He spoke with eloquence, from the heart, bringing everyone to tears.
The services closed with the congregation singing “Five Little Ducks”.
Five Little Ducks went out one day, over the hills and far away.
Mother Duck said, “Quack, Quack, Quack, Quack,” but only four little ducks came back.
Four little ducks went out one day, over the hills and far away
Mother Duck said, “Quack, Quack, Quack, Quack,” but only three little ducks came back.
(Repeat counting down to “but no little ducks came back.”)
Sad mother duck went out one day, over the hills and far away
Mother Duck said, “Quack, Quack, Quack, Quack,” and five little ducks came back.
Harlequin Went Out With A Bang
This is where I joined the story.
Honestly, I was worried about Uncle Chuck. Many people have criticized him over the years, but that old man loves life. He loves his friends, and he considers those closest to him as family. For months he wouldn’t interact, answer emails, or visit like he’d done my whole life. When Dax couldn’t get him to eat or drink, we had a meeting. Dax, myself, my daughter Alhannah, my son Green, and the critters who lived at the Cottage.
Harlequin was a treasured part of Chuck’s life. Now that she was gone, there was a hole in his heart. One that another bobble couldn’t fill. Harlequin owned that part of his heart.
He was a broken mägo.
When you lose someone you love, you have to learn how to deal with that pain. How to get up in the morning, breathe in and out, remember routines and move about. Over time, you learn how to deal, how to accept that there will be good days and bad days.
Since every day with Harlequin was a good day for Chuck, we sought to change his focus…to those who took her from him.
Now don’t get all high and mighty, thinking we fueled feelings of revenge on the vallen or the horde. We simply provided a way for Harlequin to be remembered in a positive and proactive way.
We designed a miniature, target-seeking explosive, specifically to defend smaller folks, and then named it the Harlequin Hand-grenade.
What can I say…it made Uncle Chuck smile.
Leave a comment or ask a question. I love talking worldbuilding!
Paid subscribers can comment, access the archive of this site, along with other stories, art, and any article I’ve ever written. If you aren’t a paid subscriber, you can access the archive for free with a 7-day trial OR earn a paid membership by joining the referral program! Contact me if you need our ‘hardship scholarships’ — used for military, first responders, homeschoolers and those in countries with horrible exchange rates — we have a deeeep discount for you.