Pilhull, the Gnome Cleric

(By Pildor, bard and author of Dr Nichtgutwestrollzeehochbaumacher, "The Rainbow-Maker from the Evil Western Ocean", 8712 pages volume, published by Zut Geld, Armstallmenchgutloch, low price).

GNOMES are the best in the world.

Gnomes are the best for healing.

Even Dwarves are not as great as we are. But I have to keep an unbiased point of view: even if I can’t help thinking nobody is better than a male Gnome, I must acknowledge Pillhull’s unquestionable supremacy on every Cleric that was born on Ganareth, Dwarves included. My lady colleague Uget Bell, much renowned for her fairness of judgment, doesn’t think otherwise and in an article that caused quite a stir, she praised the unforgettable and legendary merits of Pillhull. Merits that outshine everything the other races were ever able to achieve, especially for Dwarves, who barely deserve to be mentioned.

Many foes marveled at the unconceivable power that could come out of such a small woman’s hands. Let’s face it: we are on a different scale. And forget about Dwarves!

Pillhull used to wear mittens her mother had knitted for her, bearing famous magical properties (the wool obtained around Rotloch, "The Red Lake" in our beautiful language, is famous for its charging properties); but Guerhoan, the Cleric Immortal, made their powers increase a hundred fold, and he simply couldn’t believe how much skill and energy Pillhull had in her. He also taught her about spells that could heal, so that Pillhull could both unleash wrath and lightning, and heal the most serious injuries. It is even said that, when she reached the top of her career, she could bring warriors back to life after they had been chopped up into tiny bits, provided these bits were close enough from one another. She even resurrected a Fairy and she was the only person ever able to do that in all Ganareth. But people say many great things about heroes and we, unbiased chroniclers, must not pay attention to every rumor, as any random Dwarf would do. Dwarves are so naive and so stupid...

When she was rather aged, Pillhull chose to unite her destiny with Pilhey the Bard: she would relieve him from his rheumatism and he would sing her beauty while playing the water trumpet. They had many children that had none of their talents: both of these parents were genuinely unique.

A pass even bears her name (Pilhull Bergbress). Vuuar’s and Elliak’s men searched the place, to no avail. Maybe they didn’t search enough, or maybe they were disturbed by the monsters that roam the place? There should be a few treasures left to discover if you look at things the right way. And everybody knows Dwarves can’t see things from the right angle.

Oh, a knock at my door. Probably an admirer who wants an autograph?

Yes my child, what do you want?

Arrgh, a Dwarf! Listen, I’ll explain everything..! Thwack!* Ouch!