Tales From a Second Hand Wand Shop- Book 1: They Were the Best of Gnomes. They Were the Worst of Gnomes.

by Robert P. Wills

Chapter Twelve

  Wherein Grimbledung Gets Some Pointers on Wand Sales

  Grimbledung’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, Drimblerod. I really am. I’ll take this seriously.”

  They both looked at each other in silence. Just then the front doorbell jingled.

  “I’ll see to it Drimblerod,” assured Grimbledung, “Don’t worry,” he said as he quickly pushed through the curtain to the front of the shop.

  “Welcome to the shop.” Grimbledung said somberly, “Can I help you find something?”

  The squat creature in front of him- half Gnome, half Dwarf- looked at the wands on the shelves. “I’m off to seek my fortune and I need a wand or two.” He shuffled to the counter with an impossibly large pack on his back, “Can I put this down?”

  “Sure thing, friend,” Grimbledung gestured to the edge of the counter and the Gnome-Dwarf obliged. The pack was nearly as tall as he was.

  “I think the first thing you need is a Levitation Wand,” suggested Grimbledung as he moved around the counter, “It will definitely make your travels more enjoyable.” He took one of the wands off the shelf and pointed it at the pack. With a slight twist of his wrist, he levitated the pack to the top of the counter. “See?”

  “Well, that’s good and fine” said the Gnome-Dwarf as he crossed his arms and watched the demonstration.

  “Exactly,” Grimbledung said as he lowered the pack, “So what else do you need?”

  “How about to not be the laughing stock of the group? That would be nice,” he said. “What do you think that would do to my reputation to foist my pack duties onto a wand? Should I keep my pinky out as well?” He finished.

  Grimbledung looked at the Gnome-Dwarf evenly as he decided how to respond. Nothing helpful came to mind. “You know, sir, you’re right,” agreed Grimbledung, trying to act like a respectable, serious businessman. “That wouldn’t do at all. Let me ask my associate what he thinks of the situation.” He held up his palm. “Just a moment. “He went behind the curtain, “Drim, I’m trying to make a sale and I need your help” he said, “I need a suggestion, or an opinion, or something.”

  Drimblerod looked up from the can of wands he was examining, “Did you waylay another customer?” He asked.

  “No! Now hurry before he leaves!” Snapped Grimbledung, “I’m trying to be serious here.” He stepped back through the curtain. The fellow had an Incinerator Wand in his hand.

  “How well do these work?”

  “Well, you can definitely cook a hearty pot of stew with it, roast a rabbit, or even a shank of lamb. Nothing bigger than that,” explained Grimbledung.

  “How much?” Asked the Gnome-Dwarf.

  “Three copper” said Drimblerod quickly as he came through the curtain, “but we might be able to make you a deal.”

  “Three?” The creature said as he started to put the wand back on the shelf.

  Drimblerod nimbly intercepted the wand, hurriedly placed it on the counter, and executed a crisp U-Turn back to the potential customer within a moment. “So what’s the trouble?” Drimblerod asked the Gnome-Dwarf.

  “Your partner here wants me to be the fool who totes his pack at the end of a wand,” he scowled.

  Grimbledung’s eyes got large.

  “He’s new,” offered Drimblerod, “he meant no offense, sir. He’s still learning the ropes. Career change and all that. Bad times we live in, you know.”

  Grimbledung narrowed his eyes at Drimblerod who only winked in reply.

  “So, what’s your suggestion?” Said the Gnome-Dwarf as he re-crossed his arms.

  “I’d say a nice Levitation Wand,” suggested Drimblerod.

  From behind the customer, Grimbledung shook his head and pulled his finger across his throat.

  “We’ve been through that!” Scowled the Gnome-Dwarf as he raised his hands, “I shan’t be seen waggling a wand at my pack as we trudge the Wilds!”

  “No, not at all,” assured Drimblerod, “and no one is saying you should.” He put his arm around the customer and led him to the pack. “Watch this.” Drimblerod took the wand, gave it a twist and bumped the hilt with the palm of his other hand. Quickly he shoved the wand into the main pocket of the pack. “There” he said simply.

  “Are you giving me it then? Either way, I won’t use it. I’ve got my reputation to maintain, and my ...”

  As the Gnome-Dwarf spoke, Drimblerod reached for the middle of the pack and hefted it over his head.

  “...self-respect to... think about. What’s this?” He finished.

  “It’s on automatic,” explained Drimblerod as he put the pack down.

  The Gnome-Dwarf grabbed the pack with both hands and nearly stumbled due to the lack of resistance as he picked it up. “Say! This weighs the same as when it was empty! How’s that work?”

  “When you see those Humans or Orcs battling and running all day, do you really think they’re doing it in regular, full weight armor?”

  “Well, I just assumed,” said the Gnome-Dwarf.

  Drimblerod shook his head. “Levitation Wands in their armor.”

  “I’ll be! And no one’ll know it’s there?” He asked.

  “Not unless you’ll tell them. All for a mere three copper. A pittance really. A token of appreciation” suggested Drimblerod. “four copper for effortless walking on non-blistered feet.”

  “Sold!” Said the Gnome-Dwarf. He hefted the pack several times. “What a deal!” He beamed. “Wait till the rest of the guys are complaining and I’m just strolling along.” He dropped the pack and then rubbed his hands together with glee.

  “And since you’re such a good fellow, I’ll throw in the Incinerator for two copper. Five total coins for fresh feet, a straight back, and hot chow.”

  “Excellent!” The Gnome-Dwarf dug into his pockets and pulled out five copper coins, “Here you go” he said as he handed the coins over giddily. He hefted his pack and effortlessly slung it on.

  “Remember, twist and bump to set it on. Repeat it to turn it off,” said Drimblerod as the fellow cinched the straps on its pack.

  “Don’t forget your Incinerator.” Said Grimbledung as he stuck the wand into one of the pack’s bulging pockets, “Hot chow!”

  “Thanks again! I’ll be back when I need something else” waved the Gnome-Dwarf as he opened the door behind him and bounded by the window, still waving.

  “What a great customer!” Exclaimed Grimbledung, “I hope he sends us some more business.”

  “Not a chance” Drimblerod said as he shook his head.

  “Why?”

  “First,” started Drimblerod tapping one finger, “he’ll never tell his pals because he’ll want to keep that wand his secret, even though it would help out the entire group and possibly save lives.” He ticked a second finger off, “And second, he’ll be dead in about a week.”

  “Dead?”

  “Eaten by Orcs most likely. Skewered by Trolls and roasted. Squashed by Ogres. Possibly even digested by a Dragon.

  “How can you be so sure?” Asked Grimbledung.

  “Most of those Adventurers are dead in a week.” Drimblerod said. “They almost never come back to tell their tales of high adventure. Or even High Adventure”, he said, managing to enunciate the capitalization. “Usually, it is a haggard lone survivor telling their sad story at the Maura Tau Bar and BAR.”

  “Maybe they settle someplace else, living like kings?” Suggested Grimbledung.

  Drimblerod looked at him solemly and shook his head.

  Grimbledung blanched. “How gruesome! Still, it was impressive to see you get five copper for two copper worth of wands. “Very tricky” he shook his finger at Drimblerod.

  “I probably could have gotten six. You always have to leave space in Yea Olde Haggle Room to sit in.”

  “Good tip.”

  “You know what they say,” offered Drimblerod, “Them’s that don’t haggle, gets tooken.”

  “That’s horrible Common” tut-tutted Grimbledung.

  “It’s
a poem.”

  “Oh? How’s the rest of it go?” Asked Grimbledung hopefully.

  “That’s it. It’s the Great Poem of Business.”

  Grimbledung blinked. “Who wrote it?”

  “Me” Drimblerod winked as went back through the curtain. “Remember, we’ve a silver coin to make back” he reminded over his shoulder.

  “Right!” Called Grimbledung. “I’ve got this!” He returned to wait behind the counter, fingers drumming on the glass. After ten minutes, no one had come in and he was bored. “I’m bored,” he confirmed to no one in particular. He took a piece of parchment from behind the counter and began to doodle. Soon, he had a (terrible) sketch of a Dragon devouring a band of adventurers. He supplied the appropriate commentary and wails as the sketch progressed. “If only we all had light packs!” Groaned one adventurer as the Dragon chomped on it. “If only we had knoooowwwwnnn!” The stick figure lamented with his last breath. “If only” Grimbledung said to console the now devoured stick figure.

  “If only they had known?” He asked himself. He stood up straight and clapped with glee. “If only! If only!” He sing-songed as he hopped foot to foot.

  Quickly, his gleeful hand clapping became a more sinister hand-rubbing. At the same time, the hopping became a stooped over shuffle as he moved back and forth behind the counter, “Oh yes, they will know. They will know!” Grimbledung hissed to himself. “They may still get devoured but it won’t be because they didn’t know.” A cackle formed in the back of Grimbledung’s throat and worked its way up as he tilted his head back and laughed at the ceiling. “They will know!” He finished loudly, arms splayed out to the side, fingers arched upward. “MWWAAHHAA!”

  Rat sat up sleepily. “What in the Lands are you going on about now, you crazy Gnome?”

  Grimbledung reverted to hopping back and forth. “If only! If only!” He sing-songed again as he clapped -again- gleefully innocent.