Tales From a Second Hand Wand Shop- Book 1: They Were the Best of Gnomes. They Were the Worst of Gnomes.
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Chapter Two
Wherein Grimbledung and Drimblerod Meet
Grimbledung crested the hill on a cloudy, yet still bright and crisp fall afternoon. He gazed at the carnage below. There was a lot of it. That was what weeks of battle left behind. That, and profit.
“And honestly, a little bit of stench,” offered Grimbledung, helpfully.
And honestly, a little bit of stench.
Red and yellow flowers -still in bloom even as the leaves hinted at changing colors to a season that would probably not get discussed again3- carpeted the fields before him. Above, hundreds of birds caught the breeze and flew in lazy circles- mostly crows but some vultures and eagles. Very soon, if his experiences with such events held true, vultures would outnumber the other birds three to one.
Flash! Staff in hand, Grimbledung continued down the hill. The Flash! Staff was more of a precaution than a walking aid; one never knew when a merely comatose fighter would come-to and think the battle was still raging. The solid wood staff was topped with a Power Orb imbued with particularly powerful Lumens! Spell. As mandated by local ordinance, it was the exclamation point that denoted the ‘particularly powerful’ as opposed to ‘regular strength’ version of the spell. A sharp knock- in this case by rapping the staff on the ground- fired the always loaded spell. It was not bright enough to cause permanent damage (that would require two exclamation points) but would cause anyone and everyone nearby with eyes to see blue and purple spots for about three minutes. This was plenty of time for Grimbledung to affect what he called a Tactical Flanking Maneuver. Witnesses described it as ‘running away flailing like a scared six-year-old girl’. Elvin – Elfin was Grimbledung’s opinion on the matter. As he went down the hill, Grimbledung absently swung the staff at a passing crow. It had seemed to take a dive at Grimbledung as if to get a better look at him. Surprised he connected; he looked wide-eyed at the careening bird. The subsequent Flash! made him sit for a full three minutes.
Drimblerod saw the flash (he was unsure of its potency) from across the valley. A glint off a soldier’s shield? A quick glance at the cloudy sky and that hope was gone. Another gatherer. Most looters took items that could be stored and sold easily; swords, daggers, shields and such. Wands did not fit into either the ‘store’ or ‘sell easily’ category for most gatherers.
It was all that Drimblerod was after. Wands were his specialty and Drimblerod knew that many a variety of wands could be had after an extensive battle. Usually Dispellers (against other magic), Incinerators (used by cooks), Levitators (used by the weak, lazy, or crafty- depending on the point of view)), and Nudgers (used by hack Magicians) were fairly common. Above these, Repellers were the prize wand to find. Before large battles, squads of men would pool their salary to hire Wizards or (if no Wizards were available) Sorcerers to accompany them. Magicians were a distant third and hired as a last resort. Unless of course, someone was having a birthday party, then they were at the top of the list.
Sorcerers drew from the magical forces in the ground – they called it What’s This? to create spells. The problem with this was that with a large number of Sorcerers tapping the What’s This? in a particular area, it would run out fairly quickly. Anything over a week and the landscape would be leeched dry. Then the Sorcerers, with their No Refund policy enforced by the local union who one did not want to cross, would all go scampering away in a much more dignified manner than a six-year-old girl. But not by much.
As previously mentioned, Magicians were hardly considered when life and death were on the line; Wizards were the way to go. Day after day, week after week, they would blast away with a wand or two. Even if you had to tie them to their mount, spoon feed them, and occasionally change their breeches, they would stick to their task. As far as pricing, a soldier’s life was literally decided by the haggling. Wizards who commanded a silver coin a day usually carried an assortment of wands to include Dispellers, Levitators, and an Incinerator along with a Nudger. After all, no one wanted to be turned into a newt, have to carry their own gear, or worse- go without a hot dinner! Unfortunately, Wizards with Nudger wands were often frowned upon by higher-ups (who tended to stay out of the immediate battle area), because a Nudger Wand merely affected the trajectory of an incoming catapult round or ballista bolt. Those to the front, rear, and flanks usually lost patience with a Nudge Wand Wielding Wizard rather quickly. This often caused an event called “Blue on Blue” by the Officers, and was very much discouraged. Loudly. Non-judicial punishment often followed the loud scolding.
It was the Wizard who could wield a Repeller Wand that received four or five silver coins a day. Unlike the weaker Nudging wand, Repellers sent a projectile back along its original trajectory- or at least a close approximation of it. Once it was over enemy ranks, no one faulted a wizard on where exactly a returning projectile landed. Officers liked seeing Repeller Wands because they kept the battle just like the field scroll said it should be; Blue on Red.4
Drimblerod had already picked up a fair assortment of ordinary wands and was presently searching in Earnest for costlier wands. Without any luck. Drimblerod rolled the soldier back onto his shield, just below the scratched in ‘0743-Earnest’. “Better luck next time,” Drimblerod said as he patted the dead soldier’s back, “you should have sprung for a Repeller.” He brushed off his hands and drew his Dragon Spine Wand.
Short at about seven inches (it was originally just the very tip of a Dragon’s tail) it was still a formidable wand with a wide array of offensive, defensive and of course, Precursor spells. Often used for bluster, Precursor spells let those nearby know that a powerful, potentially hazardous spell was about to be cast. Effects such as gathering storm clouds, lightning bolts, or even vortexes of various colors of light from the end of a wand were common Precursor spells.
The Precursor spell of choice for Drimblerod was ‘The Crossbow’. There were no atmospheric effects or lightshows- just a simple sound; “Ka Clack”. It was the sound made by pulling the charging handle on a crossbow “Ka,” and the string dropping into the trigger release under great tension “Clack”. It was a universal sound which transcended language and race. Everyone everywhere had heard this sound at one point or another. These were, after all dangerous times. In fact, nothing sent a shiver up the back of an after- hours intruder like “Ka-Clack” breaking the still of the night. When faced with a group bent on redistributing Drimblerod’s hard earned wealth among themselves, the sound would usually give the band of ne’er-do-wells pause. Unfortunately, Drimblerod had learned that a well-placed warning shot was also sometimes necessary to bring the point home.
There are two main camps when it comes to warning shots: Over-The- Head and At-The-Feet. Drimblerod was in an altogether different camp- Center Mass. It was a simple yet resoundingly effective camp; pick the largest and/or leader of the aforementioned group and aim center mass. In a word this told the group:
“Ireallythinkyoushouldreconsideryourcurrentcourseofactionoryourenext”
This type of warning shot never failed in disbanding a group. It also precluded the inevitable from happening when one chose an over-the-head or at-the-feet approach: the death of an innocent bystander.
Invariably, a warning shot would ricochet off something or another and hit a hapless widow who was the bedrock of the community or some kid (or kid-like creature) whom everyone liked because “they were so full of life. These “innocent bystanders” could have been actual demons, eating small pets up to that point, but now that they were dead, they were transformed into saints. Citizens would get riled up, drawing the attention of the local authorities. And when the local authorities arrived, they were greeted by the self-same thugs who by then were assisting the citizenry in plucking chickens, heating up tar, or helping build some gallows. Center of Mass was the way to go in Drimblerod’s book.