Dejected, the dummy dropped its arms.
“I’m going to get you set up and you can go through dozens of wands. How does that sound?”
The dummy bopped and flailed like a happy puppy. A battered, legless puppy.
Drimblerod picked up the dummy and kicked the crate along with him as he moved to a clear corner of the room. Excited to be out and about, the giddy dummy bounced up and down.
“Quit squirming, you!”
Drimblerod put the dummy on top of the crate.
The dummy looked around this new area of the room.
“Don’t wander off,” Drimblerod commanded.
The dummy looked at him, hands on its hips.
“I’m starting to regret this,” he muttered as the dummy began to wave a nonexistent wand at various objects in the room.
Drimblerod moved to the front of the shop and caught a glimpse of the sweeping broom. When he turned toward it, it quickly leaned against the wall. Drimblerod scowled, “When Grimbledung gets here, then you can act like you’re working. Set the mood, as it were.” Moving behind the counter, he picked up a heavy, copper gilded box. Its lid was clamped down on all four corners. Grunting, he hefted it to the living area of the shop. As he came through the curtain, the dummy wheeled around and slashed at him with the non-bristled end of a broom.
“That is not a wand!” Scolded Drimblerod, “Put that poor broom down! DOWN!”
The dummy released the broom. It clattered to the ground but quickly righted itself and retreated a safe distance away.
“No playing with the brooms!”
The dummy dropped his arms to its sides and sulked.
“And I thought I told you to never point a wand at a living thing!” Drimblerod dropped the box and opened the lid. Inside was an inky black and red vortex which spiraled down on itself. “’I’ve a mind to put you into the box!” Drimblerod threatened.
The dummy appeared to look at the box, then gestured with its hands in a classic ‘So?’ gesture.
“You don’t know what this is, do you, dummy?” Drimblerod shoved the box beside the crate the dummy was on. It peered down into the swirling colors. ‘So?’ it gestured again.
“Allow me to demonstrate then.” Drimblerod looked around the room and spied a piece of lumber three feet long- a shelf that was never put up. He walked over and picked it up. “Hello, jousting dummy” he said to the piece of wood, “So you want to act up? That is not a good idea.”
Dummy stared at him.
“But I can do what I want,” Drimblerod said out of the corner of his mouth as he bobbed the wood up and down, “I’m a real smart dummy.”
Dummy was now standing with its hands on its hips, mitten fingers tapping.
Drimblerod stretched up so he was almost eye to eye with the dummy. “This. Is. You.” He said in a low voice. He stepped back and without ceremony let go of the wood.
The dummy tracked it leave Drimblerod’s hand down into the box. It slid noiselessly into the swirling colors. Where it should have bottomed out because it was much longer than the entire box, it continued down into the swirls.
“Gone,” said Drimblerod as he looked at the dummy. “Into the abyss.”
The dummy jumped back, arms flailing in front of it.
“This is an Abyssmal Box,” explained Drimblerod. “Things I drop into it never come back. Ever. I have no idea where anything actually goes and I don’t really care. Sure, I occasionally get an angrily-worded postcard from some low level bureaucrat from the Nether Regions, but that’s about it.”
The dummy now had its hands clasped together in front of it. If it had knees, it would have been on them.
“You understand then?”
The dummy reached out and shook Drimblerod’s hand with both of its mitts.
“Fine, fine, don’t get all mushy on me. Aim the wands at the Abyssmal Box and sort them. Got it?”
The dummy rendered several salutes. With both hands.
“I’m still regretting this,” mumbled Drimblerod as he hefted the Abyssmal Box. He carried it several feet away and sat it on a barrel. He tipped the box on its side and aimed it at the dummy. It had been watching his action and ducked quickly, its hands over its head. “Relax, dummy. It doesn’t work that way.” Even on its side, the swirling vortex continued on its spiral towards the bottom of the box. “Aim here,” commanded Drimblerod.
The dummy again saluted with both hands. Drimblerod shook his head as he again went to the front room. He pulled out an empty display case and gingerly raked the wands onto it. The glass beneath the pile was discolored and warped. He carried the tray to the dummy and sat it on its perch.
The dummy grabbed a wand and flung it at the Abyssmal Box. The wand dutifully disappeared. Dummy raised its hands in triumph.
Drimblerod grabbed the dummy’s arm as it reached for another wand, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” He bellowed, “Bad dummy! NO! We do NOT do that. NO!” Drimblerod shook his head at the dummy, “Weren’t you listening?”
The dummy pointed to its nonexistent ears with its free hand and shrugged.
“Don’t give me that! How do you know what I’m saying if you can’t hear?”
The dummy started to raise its hand to make a point then dropped it. It cocked its head to one side, moving an invisible ear closer to Drimblerod.
“Good. Now that you’re actually listening- what you do is wave the wand at the box. Wave it. Then when you see what it does, you sort them according to what they do. Got it now?”
The dummy nodded and gave thumbs up sign.
“I’ll bring in some cans to put the wands in.” Drimblerod heard the bell clatter at the front door. “I’ll bring them later, but please, please get it right.” The dummy saluted again. “Or else!” He called over his shoulder as he walked out. More saluting greeted his back as he went.
Chapter Six
Wherein Grimbledung Tours
Second Hand Sorcery
Drimblerod pushed aside the curtains separating the two rooms with what he hoped was a suitably grandiose entrance. Grimbledung was leaning on the front counter peering through the glass. Drimblerod noticed the broom sat in the corner silent. He forced a scowl from his face, “Partner! Glad you finally made it.” Grimbledung was looking into the case. “Ahhh, the incinerators. Those move like Elven hotcakes.”
“Sure,” replied Grimbledung, “at a measly two coppers each. You’d have to sell ...”
“On average, ten a day” Drimblerod interrupted, “day in and day out. And that’s just that one wand type.”
Grimbledung blinked at Drimblerod. Mentally he made some calculations, using his toes pressing on the floor to help him out. The shop brought in more in a week that he did in a month. “That’s impressive, but there’s one thing I don’t understand ...” He was interrupted by what sounded like a peal of thunder from the backroom.
“Just a moment,” said Drimblerod as he quickly stepped through the curtain. Grimbledung followed close behind. They were greeted by the dummy lying flat on its back, holding a wand as far from it as possible in its mitten hand. It seemed stunned. Drimblerod took the wand and carefully laid it aside.
“Dummy, can you hear me?” Drimblerod asked, worry in his voice. “What happened?” He asked as he put the dummy back on its base.
“That thing can speak?” Grimbledung asked. He had seen Mechanimator magic in action before- usually as novelty coat or hat racks, or cooking utensils. He had never heard one speak more than a simple spiel, and that was a wine cask Matre'D who gave the current wine list at the Sliced Unicorn Restaurant and Ice Cream Parlour[3].
“No, I made that mistake once. My stupid brooms argued day and night ‘dust, dirt, or mud- which was worse’. It was the longest week of my life” Drimblerod looked up at the dummy. “What happened?”
The dummy pantomimed selecting a wand and waving it at the Abyssmal Box.
“Right, so far so good,” coaxed Drimblerod.
The dummy then flailed his arms aroun
d, almost falling to the ground again.
Drimblerod steadied the dummy. “Okay, okay. A really powerful wand. We’ll make a special copper-lined container for them. Maybe we need to screw you down to this crate.”
He was answered with more flailing from the dummy.
“How about some straps until we find a better solution? I think I have a pair of Ogre suspenders around here someplace.”
The dummy nodded.
“Let’s stop until I can scrounge up some cans.”
“So, what happened to the employees?” Grimbledung asked.
Drimblerod had been preparing for this question since he had Mechanimated the dueling dummy. He suppressed a smile at his cleverness. “I’m glad you asked, Grimbledung. I’m glad you asked. You see, in order to maximize profits, I felt we needed to liquidate certain non-depreciating assets of the business. By using this cost-free tester, which took days to locate, I have to tell you, I believe we will both experience an elevated through-put of currency.”
“But we only met earlier today.” Said Grimbledung, “How could you have been looking for an alternative for days?”
Rolton chips, thought Drimblerod, great heaping piles of steaming Rolton chips. “I fired them” confessed Drimblerod, “They wanted a raise. The dummy was a temporary solution that I ...”
He was interrupted by frantic flailing by the dummy.
“... that I think may be more of a permanent solution of the problem.”
The dummy wiped non-existent sweat from its blank, flour sack head and began to shake both the Gnomes’ hands.
“Let’s go back out front so we can talk privately.”
The dummy saluted the two until they left.
“So you were confused about something?”
“Yes” began Grimbledung, “the wand business I get- you have a nice operation going here. But what’s a Psychotic Reading?”
“That’s the Hook.”
“The Hook?” Asked Grimbledung.
“Yes, you know- something to pull people into the shop so they’ll buy something else.”
“I know what a Hook is” said Grimbledung testily, “I do have my own business you know.”
“Well, the way this Hook works is that after they come in and I explain a Psychotic Reading to them, they usually decline, but by then, I have them in the shop where I have a chance of making a wand sale.”
“That sounds like a Bait and Switch. What’s the constable think of that?” He shuddered at the thought of the town’s Constable.
“No, no. If they want a Psychotic Reading, I give it to them,” assured Drimblerod, “it’s all above the board.”
“OK, I’ll bite,” said Grimbledung as he sat on a stool.
Chapter Seven
Wherein Grimbledung receives His
First (and Last) Psychotic Reading
“What’s a Psychotic Reading?”
“Why, I’m glad you asked.” Said Drimblerod as he switched into his well- rehearsed pitch, “A Psychotic Reading, my valued customer, is a completely revolutionary art I have developed wherein I tap into the Chaotic Ether of the universe to attempt to determine the success ... or failure of your immediate endeavors.” He smiled at Grimbledung. The hook was being dangled.
“I’d be interested in knowing that, to be honest,” Grimbledung moved forward on the stool.
There was the nibble.
“But,” continued Drimblerod, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, “I must warn you- there are dire consequences if the Chaotic Ether does not cooperate. It is, shall I say, unpredictable.” As if on cue (which it may have been), it began to rain. Big heavy drops spattered against the large window as Grimbledung moved back to the center of his stool. “For a mere copper coin, I can begin the reading. After I start, a silver will keep the connection open” he eyed Grimbledung, “for a short period.”
Grimbledung raised an eyebrow. He dug into his pocket and pulled a copper and a silver coin from a hidden slit. He dropped them both on the counter. Before they even stopped rattling, Drimblerod had covered them with a black silk cloth and covered that with a massive egg-shaped loadstone. It sparkled and emitted sporadic green Ethereal wisps. The hook was set.
“The Chaotic Ether answers!” Drimblerod hissed. He peered intently into the stone. “I see your death. It is far out on the horizon, true, but it is there.”
He grabbed a green wisp and tugged on it. “I see pain and suffering. Crushed by a heavy stone maybe? Maybe a stone. A Gastrolith possibly. Yes. Definitely possibly... In the belly of a Dragon? ... Gruesome indeed.”
Grimbledung moved back on the stool, “What? Eaten alive?” His face paled.
“Perhaps,” continued Drimblerod. He peered at the wisp. “You may already be dead at that point. Hit on the head?” Drimblerod looked up at Grimbledung and locked eyes with him, “By someone you recently met.” He let go of the wisp and it curled about and seemed to move towards Grimbledung.
Grimbledung avoided it.
“It seems,” Drimblerod continued as he looked back down, “it may be a Halfling or perhaps a Gnome that does you in. Do you know any Halflings or Gnomes, per chance?” He asked without looking up.
“Yes, several of each,” said Grimbledung. The front two legs of his stool were now lifted off the floor. “Including you, of course.”
“Yes, yes. I see that clearly now. There is a failure of a business transaction that causes the stalking. How unfortunate. That involved an event which, according to local law enforcement reports, led to ... the incident...”
“What incident?”
“... that causes your demise. It’s gruesome the Chaotic Ether suggests.”
“You’ve said that already!” the legs of Grimbledung’s stool moved farther from the floor.
“It seems that the Chaotic Ether has gotten upset.” Drimblerod pulled a tendril up to his ear and went stiff. The tendril turned purple as it entered his ear. “Yes... Maybe... I don’t know.” Drimblerod looked up at Grimbledung with unfocusing eyes and narrowed them, “Probably.”
“Probably what?”
“No. I think I could.” Drimblerod chuckled. “No, I don’t think they would figure it out.”
Grimbledung stood on the rails of his stool. It clattered back onto all four legs. “Who wouldn’t?”
The tendril turned blood red. “I understand... I can do that.” Drimblerod’s voice dropped to a whisper. An evil one... “I obey.”
“Now just a minute, Drimblerod! I’ve had quite enough of this!” Grimbledung complained.
Drimblerod pulled the tendril from his ear and it switched from red to purple then back to green. He visibly relaxed. “My oh me! That was exciting, wasn’t it?” Drimblerod said innocently. “Do you want to pay another silver to hear more?”
“No, I won’t pay another coin. I’ve had all I want to hear from this Chaotic Ether or whatever it is. And you’re... you’re...”
“Psychotic?” Suggested Drimblerod.
“Yes, completely...” Grimbledung sat back on the stool, glowering at Drimblerod. Realization crept across his face. He narrowed his eyes at Drimblerod, “Saaaay, how long can you keep that up?”
“Till either your pockets or courage run dry.” Drimblerod opened his eyes wide, “Wait, just what did I say to you?” He oozed innocence. Or at least plausible deniability. “Can I interest you in a reasonably priced wand loaded with an array of defensive spells?” He offered nonchalantly.
“Nice pitch, Drim. You can stop it now.” Grimbledung said as he leaned forward on the counter. “I don’t see as how that’s legal. That whole pitch just reeks of blackmail and murder. What if someone goes to the authorities? The last thing we need is the Constable on the payroll.” He shivered at the thought.
“Blackmail? Murder? Why, I’m dashed! You see the problem is the law, or rather Lawmakers themselves. They are completely out of touch with everyday life and the local populace.”
“Well, wouldn’t you be if you had the means?” Aske
d Grimbledung.
“Of course- who actually chooses to hang around with common folk?” Drimblerod stuck out his tongue. “Ilk, really.” He tried to think of a better word; none came to mind. “Yes, we’re definitely ilk. Now as I was saying, Lawmakers are out of touch with common people and that always causes loopholes in their laws because they don’t realize how conniving we ilk really are.”
“So what’s the loophole?”
“There’s a sign out front that advertises the service of Psychotic Readings.”
“Right,” agreed Grimbledung.
“I tell the people that it will be dark and most likely foreboding”
“Yes, I heard that part myself.”
“And I explain the fees upfront.”
“Again, true.”
“I never guarantee success or accuracy. This isn’t thievery on my part; it’s a very poor business decision on their part.” He waved his hand dismissively, “People are free to make bad business decisions all day long!”
He pondered the situation for a long moment. “Genius! Sheer genius. How many readings do you actually end up doing in a week?”
“Only one or two, but it’s pure profit. As I was telling my shiftless employees...”
A thought came to Grimbledung, “Employees! My rat is still out front!” He got up and went to the door.
Chapter Eight
Wherein Grimbledung Officially Moves In
Grimbledung opened the door and was greeted by a soaked RatShambler still hooked up to the wagon. He had his head under the Magicked Moon in a vain attempt to keep it dry. “I really and truly do loath you. Loathing like Clay Golems loath flowing water. Whampyri and sunlight. Elves and dirt. Complete and utter hatred,” he said.
“Bring the wagon around the back and I’ll open the rear doors,” called Drimblerod as he moved through the curtain.
“Oh Rat, I’m sorry. I completely forgot about you. I was having a fine time inside.”
They Were The Best of Gnomes, They Were The Worst of Gnomes (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 1) Page 4