“I understand,” Grimbledung said knowingly. I understand you’re a mark he thought. Out loud he continued, “You need a standard Adventure of Doom package.” He winked.
“Yessss,” the figure agreed, “money is no object.”
Grimbledung did little puppy flips on the inside, “Follow me” he said as calmly as he could as he moved from behind the counter, “And stay clear of the window.”
The cloaked figure obliged, practically crawling behind Grimbledung. “So an Incinerator wand to heat ... I mean to boil a person’s brain.”
“Perfect!” Agreed the figure.
Grimbledung stuck the wand in the figure’s belt. In theory, one could cause harm with an Incinerator wand, but it would have to be held tightly against a head for a long time to even begin to cause damage. Skulls were poor conductors when it came to Incinerator wands. By then, a rock to the head would be a far better choice- especially if a victim was unwilling to remain still for a long time. “And to help move the bodies, a Levitator Wand”
“Just what I was thinking. Will it move several bodies at once?” The figure asked.
“Oh plenty of bodies” assured Grimbledung, “I saw one pick up a whole troop[4] of Orcs.” Behind him, he heard the bell over the door. Things couldn’t get better, he thought. “Come in, we endeavor to ser ...” His eyes met Drimblerod’s.
The cloaked figure hunched down, “No witnesses!” It hissed.
“Drimblerod’s not a witness,” Grimbledung explained to the figure, “he’s management.” He patted the figure’s back. “Relax.”
Drimblerod shook his head.
“Not management?” Asked Grimbledung.
Drimblerod pushed the empty dolly in and shut the door. He shook his head again. He stuck out his tongue and waggled it around as if he had a sugar stick.
“Lunch?” Suggested Grimbledung.
Drimblerod’s head shook again. He pointed at the window and waggled his tongue again.
“No.” Grimbledung said flatly, as he continued to pat the figure.
Drimblerod pointed to the cloaked figure and gave a thumbs-up.
“Right then,” Grimbledung’s eyes narrowed. “Back to my customer.” He drew a finger across his throat slowly at Drimblerod.
Drimblerod silently pushed the dolly through shop and under the curtain, then he returned to peek out from behind it.
“Ahhh, I thought he’d never leave,” said Grimbledung. “Now where were we? Killing things and toting corpses, I think. What more could you need?”
The hooded figure un-stooped slightly. “What do you suggest?”
“Come to the counter, friend and I’ll show you.” Grimbledung quickly moved around the counter so the figure knew where to skulk. “I only show this wand to the truly adventurous and most dangerous of customers. Only the most worthy of worthiest.”
“That’s me.”
Grimbledung searched quickly under the glass hoping that a wand would catch his eye. One did. He thumbed open the door and pulled out a small black wand. “This is your wand. I hope you have the gold for it,” warned Grimbledung.
“Of course I do,” whispered the figure.
“I sure hope so. The last time was horrible” said Grimbledung casually as he held the wand by the tip, offering the hilt to the figure. It was not how someone generally passed a wand to another, but the figure did not notice.
“Last time?” It asked.
“It’s nothing really. Hardly even worth mentioning. It’s just....”
The figure peered up at him, hand hovered inches from the hilt. “Just what?” It said finally.
“The cleanup was tough, that’s all. Took a whole week. We had to repaint you see.”
“Repaint?” The figure asked.
“The walls,” said Grimbledung.
“Walls?”
“And the ceilings of course.”
The figure’s hand moved ever so slightly away from the wand’s hilt.
“No matter,” continued Grimbledung, “you’re obviously much more controlled, magically speaking. And you’re definitely powerful enough wearing that cloak and all.” With that, Grimbledung shoved the wand into the figure’s sleeve.
Reflexively it grasped the wand.
“Ka-Clack” went the wand.
“Is it supposed to do that?” Asked the figure.
“Oh, we’ll be alright as long as ...” Grimbledung stopped as a high pitch whine began to emit from the wand. “Uh oh,” he said flatly.
“Uh oh? What’s that mean?”
Grimbledung let go of the tip of the wand. “I really, really need you to pay for that quickly because we don’t offer refunds.”
“Refunds?”
“And it should help pay for the cleanup.” Grimbledung said as the wand’s pitch rose two more octaves. “Sooner is better than later right now,” he suggested.
“What do I do? How do I make it stop?” Pleaded the figure.
“Pay and take it outside so the street sweepers can take care of the mess. Less to paint out there.”
“But ...” started the figure. He had to speak up over the noise.
“But what?” Asked Grimbledung innocently.
“I have... no money” the figure finally admitted. It dropped the wand on the counter and sprinted out of the shop.
“One down” said Grimbledung as he gingerly picked up the now smoking wand. “Make way!” He called as he ran through the curtain. Drimblerod barely sidestepped as he came through. “Duck, Dummy!” Grimbledung called. He was now running at top speed, wand held out ahead of him.
Dummy saw Grimbledung at full tilt, smoking wand aimed at it. It wheeled its arms and fell off the platform just as the wand went off. A jagged purple bolt zigzagged from the wand and into the Abyssmal Box for a full five seconds, crackling and sizzling as it went.
“We’re going to get very angry letters” said Drimblerod as he helped Dummy to its base. It was furiously twirling a mitten hand around its ear as it gestured towards Grimbledung with the other.
“Well, that was exciting!” Said Grimbledung, “I thought that guy would never leave!”
“Why in the Lands did you hand that fool a Destructor!! Wand for?” Drimblerod asked angrily, “He could have taken out half the shop!”
“Relax, Drim. I had it all under control,” Grimbledung tried to reassure him.
“And what if we didn’t have that box?” Drimblerod pointed testily at the Abyssmal Box. “What if you didn’t make it back here? What it the lid was shut? What then?”
“I’d have gone outside and cut a bunch of clouds in half. No harm done”
“Except that discharging a Destructor!! Wand within township limits is a felony and I would have, WE would have lost the shop trying to pay all the fines and bribes!” Snapped Drimblerod. “And that’s not even taking into account any up close and personal meetings we’d have with the Constable!”
Grimbledung shuddered. Fines and jail time- those could be dealt with. Up close and personal meetings with the Constable, or more specifically Aution’s Constable was a different matter entirely. Then something truly horrible came to his mind, “Rolton Chips!” He exclaimed.
“What now?” Said Drimblerod, exasperated.
“That fellow walked out of here with that Levitation Wand stuck in his belt. Steaming piles of Rolton Chips.” He scrunched up his face at the loss of a wand.
“Well, if that’s all this learning experience costs us, we’re still doing pretty well.” He thought for a moment, “But for now on, put wands on the counter until a customer pays for it, not on their person!”
Grimbledung sighed heavily. Wand Shoppe ownership definitely was more complicated than Wand Wagon ownership. Hopefully he got the hang of it. At least before he killed off his new partner. “Fine, fine.”
First things first...
Chapter Twelve
Wherein Grimbledung Gets Some Pointers on Wand Sales
Grimbledung’s shoulders sagged. Building-Business owner
ship was definitely more complex than Wagon-Business ownership. “I’m sorry, Drimblerod. I really am. I’ll take this seriously,” said Grimbledung. 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 and 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.
“Two copper” said Drimblerod quickly as he came through the curtain, “but we might be able to make you a deal.”
“Two?” 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. “Three 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 a single copper. Four total coins for fresh feet, a straight back, and hot chow.”
“Excellent!” The Gnome-Dwarf dug into his pockets and pulled out four 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 and 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 evenly and shook his head.
Grimbledung blanched. “How gruesome! Still, it was impressive to see you get four 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.
Chapter Thirteen
Wherein Grimbledung has a Grand Idea
“Stop that!” Commanded Rat, “You look positively absurd.”
“Rat! You’re awake! Great. I need your help.”
“Wonderful. What with? I was just getting ready to start my nap.” Rat yawned.
They Were The Best of Gnomes, They Were The Worst of Gnomes (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 1) Page 7