Deepforge by R.J. Washburn, Ron Washburn

her first aid kit and tools. As the distraught Chieftain continued to mourn his masterpiece of technology, she methodically removed the helmet and healed him as best she could.
    “There, that’s better, “ she said as she began wrapping a large bandage around his head.
    “I can’t stay here. I…have to leave…” Hawkson said. He was now obviously in shock. He stood up and began walking north.
    Grognor saw this and walked up. “Where’s he going?”
    Teelena shook her head in pity. “I think the shock of it all finally hit him when we showed up. He said he couldn’t stay here.”
    They watched as he walked off toward the forest.
    “Shouldn’t we stop him?” Teelena asked.
    “No, just let him go. There’s a hidden elven village that way, they’ll take care of him.
    Teelena nodded and helped the cleanup effort. “Poor, poor gnome. This was his life’s work. I just can’t imagine how hard this is for him.”
    “Yea,” Grognor nodded, “this has got to be tough. But, maybe it’s a good thing.”
    “How is it a good thing?”
    “Well,” Grognor sighed as he threw a particularly large burned metallic object into the pile of rubble, “maybe all of this technology just wasn’t meant to be.”
    All of the nearby gnomes dropped what they were doing and looked at Grognor in shock.
    “No, really. I mean, think about it.” Grognor tried to explain. “We’ve been really dependent on technology for a long time. Well, not the dwarves so much, but…certainly the gnomes, and for sure the humans and halflings.”
    “Nor the elves, so I’ve heard. I don’t think they use any of this technology,” Teelena said as she dragged off a random, unrecognizable burnt object.
    Grognor saw the looks on the gnomes’ faces and dropped the subject. “Well, let’s get this cleaned up and continue on. We have the games to attend, and we’re going to miss the opening ceremonies…I think…right? They have those, I mean opening ceremonies?”
    Teelena nodded.
    Grognor smiled.
    It took another two full days to organize the rubble and clean up as best they could. All but one bridge had been destroyed by the technological collapse as buildings crashed and burned. The remaining bridge was the original one, the one that had existed before the industrial park had been built. Nobody was actually sure who had built it, but it was of a very distinct design and ingenious construction. Nobody had heard from Hawkson, so a group of gnomes decided to go look for him just in case he needed help. As they began to head north, the dwarven army mounted up to leave.
    Two figures appeared in front of the group. One was a silver clad female elf, and one was a golden clad human male. The female elf had long brown hair and deep black eyes. She was slender, but curvy. She dressed in all silver garb, much as Deccon wore gold. She was a silver dragon in elven shape. It was customary for silver dragons to appear as female elves, as the gold dragons customarily appeared as human males. Everyone stopped in their tracks, recognizing what they were.             
    “Dragons,” Grognor said, stating the obvious.
    Deccon the Fierce and another, unidentified dragon stood before them.
    “Greetings,” Deccon started, “This is Vella the Wise, dragon companion of the Glade elves.”             
    Grognor jumped off his steed and bowed with respect. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Vella. The ‘Glade’ elves?”
    She nodded.
    “She is also my mate,” Deccon stated. “The Glade is where the elves to the north reside.”
    Grognor bowed again. The gnomes and everyone else stood perfectly quiet, hanging on every word of the humanoid shifted dragons. They never appeared for casual reasons. Something important was about to happen.
    Deccon grasped Vella’s hand and stepped forward. “Do not worry about Chieftain Hawkson. He resides with the elves, now. He is in good hands.”
    “Thank you,” one of the Hawkflight gnomes