They Were The Best of Gnomes, They Were The Worst of Gnomes (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 1)

by Robert P. Wills

“Fine by me. Say, want to go home? I’m tired of being a Shambler. They don’t take nearly enough naps,” said RatShambler.

  Grimbledung perked up. “Do I? Let’s go!” He resumed hopping back and forth.

  The caravan finally caught up to the pair and the Trail Master approached them. “Say there ...” He paused because he was unsure of what to call his apparently talkative Shambler. “Shambler?” He tried. “We’re tryin t’get to town with that stuff. I’d ‘preciate it if’n you’d get back in the train.”

  RatShambler looked at the Trail Master. “Here’s the deal, Cutter,” he began, “I quit as of right now. I’m a free Shambler and I’ve decided that I’m through working.”

  Cutter just looked at RatShambler openmouthed; he was accustomed to having to deal with beasts of burden, but not accustomed to have them deal back.

  “So, here’s what I’m going to do for you.” RatShambler winked at Cutter, “I’ll tell the other Shamblers to work really hard for you so you make up the loss of me and my cargo. I imagine I can gain you a good couple of days on your routes.”

  Cutter considered the offer and closed his mouth, now his eyes were wide.

  “How’s that sound?”

  “That sounds good’t me. Coupla days ‘ere and ‘aire will add up.” He stuck out his hand then rethought the action and lowered it. “Deal?” Said Cutter.

  “Deal. Let me tell the other Shamblers.” RatShambler moved off to the head of the silk train and began to grunt as he walked down the line of beasts.

  Cutter and Grimbledung stared at each other in the prolonged silence. “Sure has been hot out here,” offered Grimbledung.

  “Nary a cloud in th’ sky,” said Cutter

  “Yep.”

  “Yep.”

  Finally, to both of their relief, RatShambler returned. “OK. It’s all settled. Just keep them in food and water, and it’s all set.” RatShambler moved beside Grimbledung, “Climb aboard so we can make good time.” He bent at the knees so that the Gnome could clamber on. “Nice doing business with you, Cutter,” said RatShambler as he walked off, leaving the confused Trail Master in the middle of the road.

  “You speak Shambler? I had no idea the enchantment gave that ability,” commented Grimbledung after they had walked a few minutes.

  RatShambler shook his head. “No, that would be an absurd effect for a Transmorgifation spell. But if he gives those beasts more food and water than he currently does, they’ll definitely walk faster for him.” Soon, the rolling of RatShambler lulled Grimbledung to sleep and they continued the rest of journey in silence.

  Obviously; because one of them was asleep.

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Wherein Gatherer Division Wands

  Unfortunately Do Not Begin to Arrive

  The pair arrived in Aution later that evening and Grimbledung’s return was met with much fanfare by Drimblerod and Nulu. Akita was pleased to see there hadn’t been a murder (those directly affected his annual raises) but upset that RatShambler left town without being questioned. “I’ll catch that beast yet” he growled. Rat heartily wished him luck as the Constable left.

  The next morning, Grimbledung flipped the sign on the shop, glad to be back in friendly, and more importantly- indoor surroundings. He opened the door and let the breeze blow in. “Here we go people,” he called out the door, “back in business.”

  “So he doesn’t remember how he got killed, so make sure you don’t bring it up,” said Rat emphatically. “Not a word, Drimblerod.”

  “It was all an accident so he won’t hear it from me. I’ll try to mention it to Akita the next time I see him. I can’t imagine he’ll care one way or another.”

  “Fine.”

  “He should also know that you’re the Shambler.”

  “What?”

  “He’s going to find out sooner or later anyway.”

  “Fine.” Rat looked over his shoulder. “Here he comes.”

  “So have any more Gatherers come in while I was away?” Grimbledung asked hopefully as he moved to the counter, “The Jamboree is just around the corner and we need as many people as possible, you know.”

  Drimblerod shook his head, “What we need is wands to come in that we can resell, you know. That Jamboree of yours is going to be a big pit that we throw money into if we don’t get a good number of unusual wands to sell.” He scrunched up his face, “And if all our hopes lie in that Runion Earl character, it’s going to be a deep hole that we’re going to have.”

  Grimbledung shook his head, “They’ll come through, don’t you worry.” He looked at the door expectedly, “Why we’ll have someone in here within the next few moments, just you watch.”

  “Well while you’re waiting, I think I’ll watch from across town. I’m going to get a haircut and a bath.”

  Grimbledung gawked at his partner, “A haircut and bath? What for?”

  “I was thinking of going out on the town tonight. It’s been a while,” he remarked offhandedly.

  Grimbledung flailed his arms, “I wanna go too! I wanna go carousing! I wanna go out too!” He kicked himself mentally for not bringing up his carousing requirements earlier. Now he could get left behind tending the shoppe. “Wanna go!” He wailed.

  Drimblerod put his hands up mimicking his partner, “Go! Sure you can go. Who said you couldn’t?” He wailed, “I just wanted to get a shave and bath before I did.”

  Grimbledung wiped a tear from his eye, “Really? ‘Cause I was meaning to talk to you about going out once and a while. I’m a young Gnome, after all.”

  Drimblerod raised an eyebrow at his partner, “Young?”

  Grimbledung waved his hand dismissively, “Well, in the grand scheme of things I am.”

  “Fine, fine,” said Drimblerod, “You tend the store while I get cleaned up, then if you want to go over, I’ll tend the store. You are going to get cleaned up, right?”

  Grimbledung ran his fingers through his hair as he looked down to appraise his attire, “Well, maybe a quick wash and a cut will do me good.”

  Drimblerod gave a relieved sigh, “Great. I’ll be back in a snap, then ...”

  Grimbledung thrust his fists in the air and did a little gig, without looking at Drimblerod (lest he stop him) he broke into song-

  Aution town’ll be singing this song

  Who they? Who they!

  Aution town’s Gnomes’r going strong!

  Oh they do, do they!

  Gonna drink to - night

  Gonna spend my pay!

  Aution town’ll be singing this song

  All the Gnome-long ... night!

  Drimblerod shook his head as he left the store. As he closed the door he looked back at Grimbledung who continued to sing at the top of his lungs. The jig hadn’t stopped either.

  As he turned to go down the sidewalk, he ran headlong into a group of Halflings, knocking the lead one to the ground. There’s quite a lot of Halflings in town all of a sudden. Very peculiar. It was like the Mysterious Halfling Migration of 657, right after the Great Strawberry Blight. Maybe Halflings were mad-crazy for strawberries. Drimblerod looked down at the Halfling who had sat down hard after the collision, “Sorry about that Pal, I didn’t see you there.”

  The Halfling glowered up at Drimblerod, “Watch where yer goin’!” Drimblerod offered his hand to the Halfling, “I had my mind on other things.” Drimblerod understood the issues that fueled the contrariness of Halflings; except for Pixies and Brownies, they were the smallest of civilized races. Practically everyone looked down at Halflings. It gave them a race-wide chip on their shoulders. Individually, they were fine to deal with, but once several got together, the large chip became a Large Chip. “Here let me help you up,” he offered.

  “I’ll help myself up, Gnome,” sneered the Halfling as he worked his way to his feet. Several of the other Halflings grunted their own disapproval.

  “In any case, again, sorry about that. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Drimblerod gave a casual, very non-
regulation salute to the soldiers. “Carry on.” With what looked like ten Halflings, the chip was probably more of a CHIP and he didn’t want to have it wacked about his head. “Have a fine day, good Halfling,” he said as he tried to walk around the group.

  The group spread out blocking his path. “Yer in an awful hurry Gnome. Afraid to stand here with us?”

  It was the second time the Halfling had turned ‘Gnome’ into what seemed like an insult. Chip or not, Drimblerod’s patience was wearing thin. They were, after all, Halflings. “Sure. Let’s stand here for a while.” Drimblerod crossed his arms nonchalantly and began tapping his foot. He surveyed the area, then the sky, “Lots of weather we’ve been having,” he remarked, “for the season.”

  One of the Halflings shoved him. “You tryin’ to be funny?”

  Drimblerod looked down at the Halfling, “No,” he said with a smile to the Halfling that just fed him the perfect straight line, “If I were trying to be funny, I’d say ‘A naked blonde walks into a bar with a pooka under one arm and a two- foot salami under the other. She lays the pooka on the table. The bartender says, ‘I suppose you won't be needing a drink.’ And the naked lady says...”

  “Drimblerod!” Nulu called from across the street, “You okay over there?”

  Drimblerod looked at Nulu, “Nulu! I was just coming to see you. Got a second?” Drimblerod pushed his way between two Halflings that were penning him in and quickly made his way across the street. “I’m glad to see you!”

  “We’ll talk later Gnome,” said the leader of the group – Corporal Colossus-

  “We’ve unfinished business.”

  “I wanna hear the end of the joke,” lamented one of the Halflings.

  Corporal Colossus punched him in the face, “Quiet you! You’ll never hear the end of that joke. We’re not here for story time! When we meet up with the Intel Halflings tonight, we’ll let them know about this Gnome. I’ll get him to the top of the list,” he snarled. He looked up at the sign of the shop he was in front of. “Second Hand Sorcery? Psychotic Readings? Drimblerod?” He kicked the side of the shop. “And I’ll get this shop at the top of the list too. He kicked the shop again. “Let’s go reconnoiter and harass some more.” The other Halflings fell in step behind him as they continued down the sidewalk, shoving and insulting as they went.

  Drimblerod watched as what appeared to be the lead Halfling punched another one in the face, then kicked his Shoppe. Twice. “What is wrong with those people. I mean, I understand why Orcs are the way they are, but what gives with Halflings?” He asked, even though he knew the answer.

  Nulu shrugged. “I think it’s some sort of inferiority complex. Because of their size, they always try to make sure they act like the toughest one in the room.” She watched the group of Halflings continue down the sidewalk, shoving an elderly lady out of their way as they went. She dropped the mincemeat pie she was carrying. “Or the street. So what did you want to see me about?”

  Drimblerod shook his head, “Oh, nothing, sorry. I just wanted to get away from those crazies. I’m going to get a haircut and bath.”

  “A night on the town?” Nulu winked at the Gnome.

  It’s been a while and I know Grim has been dying to get out and about. I’m amazed he hasn’t mentioned it yet.”

  He thought back to their exchange in the shoppe, “You should have seen him when he thought I wasn’t going to take him with me.”

  Nulu gave Drimblerod a poke, “You should be careful pushing his buttons. You don’t know which one controls his craziness.”

  Drimblerod laughed. “That’s true. I didn’t look at it that way. Say you want to come along? Tonight?”

  Nulu shook her head, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. An ...” She considered her words, “... out on the town Grimbledung and me in the same place? That may not be the best idea.” She stuck out her tongue. “The amount of double entendres I’d be ducking would be staggering.”

  “I understand completely. Well, I’m going to get to the barbers so that Grim can go when I get back. It seems like a pretty quiet day so it seemed safe to leave him alone.”

  “Well, have fun then.” Nulu waved as she turned and continued up the sidewalk.

  Drimblerod went the other direction, towards the barber shop.

  After an hour, Drimblerod returned to the wand shoppe. Grimbledung was sitting sad-faced at the counter. “This is no fun,” he lamented. “And I’m bored.”

  Drimblerod smiled at his partner, “Don’t worry. Things will pick up. And if not, I’ve got something that might help cheer you up.”

  Grimbledung lifted his head off is hands. He still didn’t smile, “I can’t imagine what could do that. Besides customers wanting to join the Gatherers Division.”

  Drimblerod moved to the counter, across from his partner, “This will. While I was getting my hair cut, Seville told me there had been another skirmish outside of town to the east. This time the local militia was able to take care of it. It seemed to be another group of mercenaries sent this way.”

  “Dead mercenaries is good,” said Grimbledung, “that’s nice to hear at least.”

  Drimblerod shook his head, “That’s not the good part. Seville said that the Mercs had some magic with them.”

  “Dead magicians is good too.”

  “No, no, that means that there might be wands out there. You should check it out on the way to the barber shoppe.”

  Grimbledung perked up. “Well, that’s at least something. Searching dead bodies for wands does always cheer me up.”

  “Great. I’ve got the shoppe; you check out the wands and get cleaned up. No matter what, we’ll have ourselves a hot time on the old town tonight.”

  “That would make a good song,” remarked Grimbledung.

  Drimblerod raised an eyebrow at his partner, “What would?”

  “Check the wands, get cleaned up” of course,” said Grimbledung as he moved around the counter and made his way to the door.

  “Watch out for Halflings, by the way,” warned Drimblerod, “There’s a group of them wandering the town looking for trouble.”

  “Thanks for the warning. I’ll make sure I stop by and tell them hello.” He stepped through the door and onto the sidewalk. He looked left and right. There was not a Halfling in sight. With a shrug he headed toward the eastern limits of town.

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Wherein Grimbledung Goes

  Searching for Wands

  Grimbledung made his way to the edge of town, searching for Halflings as he went. Dejected, he finally passed the last of the buildings that marked the edge of town. He looked off into the distance and saw several plumes of smoke; a sure sign that a battle had taken place.

  Grimbledung picked up his pace, hoping to arrive before everything was burned to a crisp. It was common practice to burn the remains of a battle to keep pests at a minimum. It was not that there was any sort of overarching agreement among people for this to happen, it was a matter of practicality. If an invading force was repelled, the local populace did not want to be overrun by rats and vultures, so they burned the bodies to keep their homeland pristine. If, on the other hand, an invading force was successful, they too would burn the remains to ensure that their newly gained territory was not overrun by rats and vultures. Mutual destruction was what rats and vultures hoped for.

  After several minutes, Grimbledung’s breath became labored; he lamented that he had not brought Rat with him to act as transportation. “I wish I had thought to bring Rat along as transportation,” Grimbledung lamented.

  Finally, after almost five minutes of walking, Grimbledung reached the location of the battle. He surveyed the area. It was more of a skirmish than a battle; there weren’t more than four or five piles burning, and they weren’t too awfully tall either; just barely over his head. Also, oddly, there were piles of wood stacked up as well.

  Grimbledung moved to the first pile (of bodies)- which seemed to be smoldering instead of outright burning- and be
gan to poke around the edges looking for any unarmored bodies. Finding none, he moved dejectedly to the second pile (still bodies). This one also seemed to be merely smoldering.

  “What horrible fire starters,” Grimbledung tut-tutted. “These people can’t even get a good fire going, how they won a battle is beyond me” he remarked to a very dead warrior as he rolled him over, “you should be ashamed.”

  “So should you” someone behind Grimbledung said.

  Grimbledung jumped straight into the air, “Ghosts!” He shrieked. In a flash his wand was in his hand. He was greeted by an indeterminate number of Halflings (not only could Grimbledung not read, counting was as of yet, just beyond his abilities). As he saw them, he relaxed. “Sorry, you scared me half to death!”

  “Well, we’re halfway there at least,” remarked the lead Halfling. Or at least he seemed to be the lead one, as he was in front of the others. Behind him, Grimbledung saw several other Halflings dump arms-full of wood. Very odd.

  “Hah. Good one,” said Grimbledung amicably. Pestering individual Halflings was safe enough. Pestering a group within city limits was also safe since there was always someone around who didn’t like Halflings who would jump into the fray. Outside of town, with no potential backup, pestering a group of Halflings was definitely not safe. “If this is your area to loot, I’ll just be on my way.”

  The Halfling shook his head, “No, Gnome, this isn’t our loot.”

  Grimbledung smiled.

  “This is our handiwork.”

  Grimbledung frowned.

  “We were just basking in yet another absurdly glorious Halfling triumph.”

  Several of the Halflings let their hands rest on their weapon’s hilts. “Triumph” they muttered.

  “Well then, congratulations on your success, good Halfling.” Grimbledung put out his hand, “Congratulations all around.” He extended it towards several of them.

  The Halfling ignored Grimbledung’s extended hand. “So what’r you doing out here, Gnome?”