“Wow!” That’s exactly what I am looking for!” The Half-Elf exclaimed as he took the wand in his hand. “What’s it cost?”
“It’s the cheapest in the whole shop. We’re practically giving those things away,” teased Drimblerod.
Giddily, the Half-Elf raised the wand over his head. “I’ll take it!”
“It’s merely one little gold coin.” Drimblerod said with a straight face. “It’s a before-lunch sale.” He added a wink for good measure.
“Sounds great!” My wife will be so happy. She says I never make a good deal. This will show her.” He raised the wand again over his head and it flared a small blue flame. “Oooh! It works too!”
“I’m just curious, friend,” began Drimblerod, “Do you by any chance have a Gnome as a relation?”
“Not as far as I know” he answered, “Why?”
“You remind me of a Gnome I know. Another... bargain hunter,” explained Drimblerod as he quickly pocketed the gold coin.
“Sorry I couldn’t help you,” said the Half Elf as he tucked the wands in a pocket. “I need to show this thing to my wife.”
“You do that,” suggested Drimblerod as he ushered the man to the door. “And come back when you need another bargain. Bring your wife and we’ll sell her something too.”
“Drim!” Shouted Grimbledung from the backroom. “Come look! The sign’s ready!”
Chapter Twenty (Part Two)
Wherein the Sign is -Almost- Ready
“Take care kind Half Elf, and come back soon!” Drimblerod finished with an almost-polite shove on the Half Elf’s back as he kicked the door shut. “This will be interesting,” he said as he flipped the sign to the closed side.”
“Hurry before the sign stops moving!” Grimbledung called.
“Moving?” Shaking his head, Drimblerod shuffled quickly to the curtain and pushed it aside.
Grimbledung was hopping back and forth in front of the sign. Drimblerod caught glimpses of gold, green, and yellow colors shouting at him.
“We wanted something that explained itself. Something understated yet gripping.” Explained Grimbledung as he stepped out of the way with a flourish.
Drimblerod was greeted by a sign the height of Grimbledung. Dummy, covered in paint, was still holding a dripping brush that it was dabbing at the edge of what appeared to be a large grey, slowly spinning disk. The disk was attached to a wooden backdrop of a forest, several fairies, and what seemed to be an excited adventurer holding a bulging sack. The edge of the disk was painted with crude gold coins which as the disk turned, seemed to dump into the sack the adventurer was holding. There was a faint clinking sound coming from the entire assembly.
“Get it?” Asked Grimbledung excitedly, “He’s getting rich!”
Drimblerod took a deep breath. Then another.
“See? We made it ourselves!”
Dummy nodded and pointed a blue thumb at himself.
Grimbledung appraised his work. “It moves and everything! Dummy painted the coins.”
Drimblerod took an even deeper breath and held it.
“Drim?” Asked Grimbledung, his smile faltering. “You’ll pass out if you don’t breathe. It’s important you know.”
Drimblerod exhaled slowly. He rubbed his temples as he did. “Now, Grimbledung,” he began slowly, “can you explain to me what this has to do with adventurers bringing us wands?”
Grimbledung squealed. “I thought you’d never ask! Let me give you the tour.” He moved beside the sign. He turned and looked at it.
After a few moments, Drimblerod cleared his throat. Grimbledung continued to appraise his handiwork. Only the sound of the squeaking wheel and the clink of coins could be heard.”
“GRIMBLEDUNG!” Shouted Drimblerod, “Snap out of it and explain the sign!”
Grimbledung startled as if he were asleep. “Sorry, I was thinking about all the money we were going to make.”
Drimblerod stared at his partner. “Grim, I could really use that explanation about now. Why is the sign that big?”
Grimbledung tut-tutted, “Because that’s all the wood you had, of course.”
“You used up all my hard scrounged wood?” Fumed Drimblerod. “To make this sign? This heap of lumber that looks more like a crazed carpenter’s apprentice’s CHILD’S project?”
“I was thinking ...” Grimbledung began.
“Do you know how long I had to scrounge to get that wood?” Howled Drimblerod. “It’s not like people just throw good lumber higgledy piggledy you know! And you’ve wasted it all!”
“...you know there are people out there that can’t read,” continued Grimbledung as if his partner hadn’t said a word, “so we couldn’t have a sign with writing on it. Or those people who can’t read wouldn’t be able to read it. Because they can’t read. See?”
Drimblerod’s face was becoming red. “Yes. Some people can’t read. I got it. What is with the stick figure fairies, the dragon with three legs, and the spinning wheel?”
“Why would people throw away perfectly good wood?”
“What?”
“You just said people don’t throw perfectly good wood away day in and day out.” Explained Grimbledung.
“Yes?” Drimblerod was caught off guard by the sudden change in conversation. Quickly he regained his composure. And anger. “Yes! People don’t just throw good lumber out higgledy piggledy! So stop wasting it!”
“So sometimes they throw out good wood?”
“What?”
“So, if they don’t always throw out good wood, that means sometimes they do throw out good wood, right?”
Drimblerod clenched his fists. “Forget the blasted wood. Tell me about this infernal sign.”
Grimbledung brightened up immediately, “Glad you asked! You see, while out in the Wilds, adventurers come across all sorts of magical beasts like fairies and dragons...” Began Grimbledung
“With three legs” offered Drimblerod.
“Well, that’s perspective. You can’t see that other leg because it’s so far away. It’s an artist thing.” Chided Grimbledung. “So this lucky adventurer is making all sorts of gold as you can tell by the sound of gold falling into the sack. Dummy suggested adding the clinking sounds.”
Dummy pointed at himself proudly.
“But.” Began Drimblerod. He took another deep breath, “Explain to me how people...”
“Who can’t read,” interrupted Grimbledung.
“... who can’t read,” agreed Drimblerod, “will know this has anything to do with selling us wands they find.”
“Because,” began Grimbledung. He looked at the sign. “Fairies?” He tried. “No wait, it’s the dragon. Yes. Definitely the dragon. No. Wait.” He tried again- “Because of the gold coins?” He offered.
“THERE ARE NO WANDS ON YOUR SIGN OR ANYTHING THAT SAYS SECOND HAND SORCERY!” Roared Drimblerod. “How are people going to know what this sign is even advertising?”
“Because we’re going to tell them?” Said Grimbledung meekly, “honestly, you really have a temper issue you need to deal with.”
Drimblerod spun around and pushed through the curtain.
“Where’s he going?” Asked Grimbledung.
The Dummy raised both his hands and shrugged. He pointed at the sign and cupped his hand to the side of his head.
“Yes, the clinking was a nice touch,” agreed Grimbledung.
Drimblerod burst back through the curtain wielding an Annihilate!! Wand. “I’m going to ask you one more time and then I’m going to let you have it!” Drimblerod snarled.
“But Drim, what would I want with an Annihilate!! Wand?” Asked Grimbledung.
Drimblerod ignored his baiting, “How will people know to sell wands to us by looking at this sign that used up all my good lumber?”
Grimbledung looked from Drimblerod to the glowing wand and back again.
“They won’t?” He tried.
Drimblerod lowered the wand and pointed it at Grimbledung’s chest.
“Yes. That’s right. They won’t.” Purplish tendrils started leaking from the end of the wand. “So why even have the sign that wasted all my wood?” Drimblerod narrowed his eyes. “Careful how you answer because those may be your last words. Ever.”
Grimbledung blinked as realization crept across his face. “Wait, you’re telling me you’re upset with how the sign turned out?”
Drimblerod spun the wand over his head. The tendrils were longer and darker now with flashes of red intermixed with the purple. “That’s what you want your last words to be?”
“But Drimblerod, you haven’t even seen the best part.”
Drimblerod inhaled deeply and let it whistle past his bared teeth. “You mean there’s more to this monstrosity?” He stopped twirling the wand but still held it aloft. The tendrils coalesced into a glob of magical Annihilate!! at its end.
“Sure.” Grimbledung said. “You don’t think that this is all that we did all morning” he said as he pointed at the sign. “You haven’t seen the best part.” Grimbledung smirked. “Seen. That’s a good one.”
“What is the best part?”
“Come closer and you’ll.... See.” Grimbledung giggled.
Drimblerod lowered the wand but kept it pointed in Grimbledung’s general direction. The glob of magic was now the size of a Dwarf’s head[8]. “This better be good,” he warned as he stepped forward.
Grimbledung stepped back, giggling as he went. “Closer ... closer,” he coaxed.
Drimblerod moved directly in front of the sign. “What?” What am I suppo...”
“WELCOME ADVENTURER!” Said the sign as the adventurer’s mouth moved up and down jerkily. “Earn gold coins by bringing wands to Second Hand Sorcery. Right across from the Stumbling Drunk. Sell a wand and have a drink. What are you waiting for?” The wooden adventurer winked. “Stop by the Wand Shop to get your pin!”
“I gave Nulu a little plug too. Sneaky, huh?”
Drimblerod let the wand drop to his side. The blob of Annihilate!! immediately dispersed, What’s This? leaking back into the floor. He appraised the sign for a long minute. He was still frowning when he was done. He took another moment to look at the sign. “I admit that’s a good pitch, but what shop owner is going to want to hear that all day long? After half a day, they’ll pitch it on a burn pile.”
“Do not burn me Mister Gnome!” Pleaded the wooden adventurer, “I will be a good sign, I will!”
Drimblerod raised the wand again. “You didn’t. You Mechanimated that sign?”
Grimbledung beamed.
“You know what happens if you Mechanimate too many things and the Magicians Guild finds out about it?”
“They get their tabards in a bunch and sit around all pouty-faced?” Said Grimbledung, “What’s a measly magician going to do to me?” He crossed his arms defiantly.
Chapter Twenty One
Wherein Drimblerod Explains the
Difference Between Magicians and Wizards
“Let’s just go through that.” Drimblerod held up a finger, “They turn your heart into a frog,” then a second finger, “Or your head into a mushroom,” he held up a third finger, “Or they teleport your skin someplace else”, he held up a fourth finger, “they turn your bones to jelly. He held up his thumb “Or maybe they just ... well, let’s just say it can get worse than that.”
Grimbledung blanched. “Wait, what was that first one again?”
Drimblerod ignored his partner’s baiting. Again. “Just imagine a bunch of uptight, upset, organized old hacks who just want to prove their worth. And by making a bunch of animated objects, they think you cheapen their craft.”
“How would you know all that?” Asked Grimbledung. “Did you cross them?”
“I might have had a fully Mechanimated workshop at one point,” confessed Drimblerod. “And they didn’t take too kindly to even the pliers working on their own.”
“What’d they do to you?”
“The last one” he said holding up his thumb. “I had to stay out of the sun and eat soft foods for a whole year. Trust me- that’s all the details you want.”
“Well, I’m dashed!” Said Grimbledung, “And I always thought that they were such kind hearted folks, running schools to teach magic to youngsters, pulling rabbits from hats, and all that.”
Drimblerod shook his head, “No, no, you’re confusing Magicians with Wizards. They’re completely different. They’re not even in the same guild.” He thought for a moment. “Magicians do the rabbit from the hat trick. No Wizard would be caught pulling off a cheap parlor trick like that.”
“Cutting women in half?”
“Magicians.”
“Defeat dragons?”
“Wizards.”
“Quests for all powerful rings?”
“Those are just conjurors of cheap tricks.”
“Hmmm” Grimbledung said, “I’ve always thought that Big Julie was a tough Head Mistress, but she was fair. So she’s a Wizard then.”
“Witch,” corrected Drimblerod absently. He blinked as he realized what he had just said, “Hold on. Big Julie is a female? Do you know her?” He continued hopefully.
“No, that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve never met her. Julie’s a girl’s name so I just figured she was a girl. Who would name their son Julie?” He giggled. “A boy named Julie.”
“I have met several very dangerous males named Julie. One Eye’d Julie was a Troll who ran a Pickled Elf Toe stand in Orcistan, the other was No Teeth Julie Shor’tongue, a Human who was as crooked as the Great Salt River is long. Then there’s Flatfoot Julie. He had a numbers racket that cleaned out a whole town.” When he had first arrived in town, Drimblerod had considered dabbling in the less than legal business of numbers. Then after being at old Flatfoot’s lynching, he decided wand selling was the way to go.
“Well, either way, I hear that Big Julie is tough but fair. Why do you care anyway?” Grimbledung asked.
“At some point, I’d like to see his or her operation. To see how it might fit into our operation. If Big Julie is a male, things might be more difficult. There’s conniving that comes with that name.” Drimblerod stopped and considered the possibilities of selling wands to new students, and the invariable lost or broken wand that would require replacement. There was money to be had if a wand seller could align themselves with a successful Wizard and Witch’s School. The real hurdle was whether some other outfit was already affiliated with the school. A second hurdle was how to get rid of any other outfit already in that position. Since the school had been established fairly recently, the odds were in his favor that no one had an Exclusivity Contract. Yet ... Drimblerod smiled at the thought of the profit associated with an Exclusivity Contract. New customers every school year. Former students keeping wands for nostalgia. Lost wands even. Income galore!
Drimblerod realized everyone was waiting for him to finish his thought. He scowled to get back in the mood. “We’re getting off track. What are we going to do with this Mechanimated sign?”
Chapter Twenty (Part Three)
Wherein Grimbledung Finishes the Sign
“I say we do not put it in the burn pile!” Suggested the sign.
“Shaddap you!” Warned Drimblerod. He stopped and examined the sign closely. “Don’t you have contractions?”
“A what?” Asked the sign, “I do not know what that is. What is a contraction?”
Drimblerod looked at Grimbledung who just shrugged. “Either way is fine. I suppose it makes us seem like a more classy operation,” he reassured Grimbledung. “Anyway,” he continued, “a few pots and pans, and an occasional broom are about as Mechanimated as I want my life to be.” Dummy dropped his paintbrush and flailed his arms. “
You’re fine, Dummy.”
“Larry” corrected Grimbledung.
“Don’t tell me you gave him a name! That makes it that much harder to ...”
“Do not say throw into the burn pile!” Pleaded the sign.
“Relax, Jerry. No
one is going to throw you in the burn pile,” assured Grimbledung.
“STOP NAMING THINGS!” Shouted Drimblerod. “Nothing else gets a name. Nothing!”
“Damn it all. I wanted to be Jerry.”
“QUIET RAT!” Drimblerod raised the wand above his head again. Dutifully the glob of Annihilate!! began to reform. “All right,” Drimblerod said. “Everyone listen and listen good. NOTHING else gets Mechanimated. EVERTHING that doesn’t have a beating heart has a distinct possibility of ending up in the burn pile or the box! Got it?”
Dummy looked down at the ground, head lolling in anguish.
“Relax dummy” assured Drimblerod. “You’re a valuable asset to the business.”
Dummy’s head sprung up and he did a jig from the waist up. That was all he had to work with.
“Just don’t get cocky,” warned Drimblerod.
Instead of stopping his jig, the Dummy toned it down and directed it towards the sign.
“What about me?” Asked Jerry the sign, “I am valuable, I am!”
“We will see, sign.”
“Call me Jerry.”
Drimblerod just glowered at the sign. “A bonfire is just one incinerator wand away, sign, so don’t press your luck. Sign,” he repeated for emphasis.
Grimbledung cleared his throat, “You know Drim, I say we stick the sign at the Outfitters next door and see how it works over a few days. If it doesn’t seem to attract any business, we can see what we will do with Jerry at that point.” Grimbledung pointed at the still charged wand in Drimblerod’s hand. “And you should put that back in the display case,” he suggested.
Drimblerod looked up at the wand and the large blob of Annihilate! That hung just above its tip. “I suppose that’s a good idea,” he squinted at the sign, “I’d hate to waste a good bit of magic on a misfire when there are perfectly good targets all around.” He squinted again at the sign.
“Mister Gnome! I will get you business, just drag me over to that shop and you will see!” Said the sign. “Say, I have an idea!” The sign perked up (as much as a wooden sign could), “Why do you not put some wheels on me and I will roll myself over there. Myself.” The sign considered his offer for a moment. “I promise I will go straight to the Outfitters and nowhere else. I promise!” He cringed as he realized he had said too much.
They Were The Best of Gnomes, They Were The Worst of Gnomes (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 1) Page 12