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

“But you were just asleep” said Grimbledung confused.

  “Yes. That was sleeping. Now I will be napping. They’re completely different things,” explained Rat.

  “No they aren’t.” Argued Grimbledung,

  “Then why aren’t they called the same thing?”

  Grimbledung opened his mouth and then closed it. “I guess you’re right, but wait for a bit to nap- I need your help” pleaded Grimbledung.

  “With what?”

  “The same as always. Spelling. Mind the store.” Grimbledung rushed through the curtain as Rat sat up.

  “Minding, minding” said Rat in a monotone.

  “Drimblerod, I need a couple of boards and some paint,” said Grimbledung. He cautiously continued, “For something.”

  Drimblerod was seated on the floor, a dozen cans of wands sitting around him. “In the back” he said without looking up. He pulled a wand under his nose and inhaled as if it were a long cigar. “Reds” he mumbled as he put the wand in a red-spattered can. Without looking, he reached for another wand from the large pile.

  “Hey, Dummy” said Grimbledung, “do you want to help?” He looked around the room conspiratorially. “With something.”

  Dummy was pointing a wand into the Abyssmal Box. He shook his head at Grimbledung and waggled the wand at the box. A solid stream of water shot out of it. He placed the wand in a can with blue wavy lines painted on it. A dozen cans surrounded Dummy. Some had figures, some symbols, one had a large question mark. It had six wands in it.

  “No idea, huh?” Grimbledung asked as he pointed at the can.

  Dummy shrugged.

  “Sure you don’t want to help?”

  The dummy shook its head and pointed to the platform with a mitted hand.

  “Ordered to stay put. Fine, suit yourself,” finished Grimbledung as he moved to the storeroom in back.

  A few moments later he came shuffling out with two squares of wood, several paint cans, brushes, and a length of rope. Neither Drimblerod nor Dummy paid attention to him as he fought past the curtain with his load.

  “He’s a very strange Gnome,” said Drimblerod.

  Dummy nodded as he picked up another wand.

  “All right, Rat,” started Grimbledung. “This is what the sign needs to say ...”

  ‘I’m listening.” Rat had a piece of parchment and a bit of charcoal in his paw, ready to take notes.

  Grimbledung cleared his throat. “This is your chance to own a great magical wand!” Declared Grimbledung. “Great power at reasonable prices! Lots of wands to choose from. Free wrapping and no hassles from the law. Come buy your wand today.” He smiled proudly.

  “Got it.” Said Rat almost as soon as Grimbledung had stopped speaking.

  “Really? You don’t need me to repeat it?” Asked Grimbledung, “I didn’t see you writing a lot.”

  ‘Short hand,” explained Rat. “Don’t worry,” he assured Grimbledung, “I’ll write it on both pieces so when you tie them together, folks going either way will see it.”

  Grimbledung opened the cans of paint and put the brushes beside them. He arranged the wood squares side by side. “How is that?”

  “Great. I’ll get this done so I can nap.”

  Grimbledung hopped from foot to foot and twirled the rope over his head. “Great power! Reasonable prices!” He sing-songed, “Lots of wands too. Buy today.”

  “OK,” said Rat after just three iterations of the song, “I’m done.”

  “Already?” Asked Grimbledung, sorry he was going to have to stop playing with the rope. “That was quick.”

  “It’s just what you want. Trust me,” assured Rat. “Now tie them together at the top.” He pointed to the tops of the boards, “This end,” he added.

  Grimbledung twirled the rope over his head like a long ribbon one more time. He then drew his dirk and punched holes at what Rat said were the tops of the signs. He square-knotted the two lengths of rope at the top, and tied another length along the bottom so the wood formed a crude ‘A’. “That should do the trick, eh, Rat?” He pointed at it proudly. “That’s one nice looking sign!”

  He carried the sign out the door and sat it on the boardwalk. In big red letters it proclaimed:

  SaLe Too Dae

  And in smaller, light brown letters, it whispered

  No Ree funds!

  “Are you sure that it says everything I said?” Asked Grimbledung, “That’s not a lot of writing.”

  “Yes. Don’t worry. It’s short-hand. Businesses do it all the time.”

  “Does it say ‘Lots of Wands? That’s important.”

  Rat rolled his one eye, “If it will make you happy, I can add that.”

  After Grimbledung muscled the sign back into the store, Rat dipped the brush in black paint and added to the sign

  Hooge Inventorie

  Rat had to go back to re-dip the brush for the other side. “Happy?”

  Grimbledung clapped and hopped back and forth. He took the sign and placed it on the walkway in front of the store and came back in giddily. “This will be great!” He squealed. “Rat, watch the store while I put this stuff away.” He grabbed up the paint and brushes and hurried to the rear storeroom. As he passed Drimblerod and Dummy, he shielded the paint cans with his body, sidestepping through the room. He was sprinting as he came back through empty handed. Neither Drimblerod nor Dummy even looked up from their tasks.

  Grimbledung burst through the curtain, “What’d I miss, Rat?” He asked.

  Rat was already napping.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wherein Grimbledung Almost Starves to Death

  Three customers looked at him. “So what’s the sale all about?” An Elf asked him curtly.

  Elves, thought Grimbledung, they act so smug. Maybe I should ask pretty-elf how many toes he has. Swallowing hard he replied as controlled and politely as possible, “Expanded management. We’re celebrating,” and because he could not help himself, he added, “Ma’am.”

  “I’m a male,” said the Elf as he tossed his long blond hair. His outfit was impeccably clean and polished. Even after a massive battle, Elves never seemed dirty. “The hair is a symbol of my prestige” he explained haughtily.

  “Of course, of course,” said Grimbledung, not offering an apology, “What are you looking for today, brave Elf?”

  “A Waterspout Wand” he replied in curt, better-than-everyone-else Elf fashion.

  ‘We’ve a fine one right here,” offered Grimbledung as he moved around the counter and took a blue-tinted wand from a wall rack. Just what you need to stay Elfishly clean he thought as he handed the Elf the wand. “Four copper today only,” he said hopefully.

  The Elf looked down at the Gnome. “I’ll give you two,” he said smugly.

  “Sold!” Exclaimed Grimbledung as he slapped his hands together. A Gnomish gesture that meant haggling was over.

  The Elf blinked angrily, realizing the lack of a counter-offer of ‘three copper’ meant he was overpaying. “Ah. I see,” he said as he took out two shiny copper pieces (even their money was always clean).

  Grimbledung took the coins from his hand. “Very nice. Good deal.” Grimbledung looked up at the Elf. “For you, my brave Elf,” he added quickly. “Have a magically wet day and come back soon!”

  The Elf furrowed a well maintained brow and left without a word. Grimbledung haggled and harangued customers for what seemed hours. He would look outside and still, the shadow of his clapboard was still not directly beneath it. His stomach growled angrily.

  Finally, during a break in customers he poked his head through the curtain, “Drimblerod! I’ve been out here for hours. I need a break!” He called at his partner, who was still (annoyingly) sitting on the floor smelling and sorting wands, “Are you going to snort wands all day?” He demanded.

  “It’s been not half an hour since you asked for the paints,” said Drimblerod. “Quit being a Gnomeling.”

  Dummy nodded. He held a mitten about at the height of where his knees
would be.

  “Half an hour? I’ve served hundreds of customers out here and I’m famished.” Grimbledung complained. “Hundreds!”

  “Hundreds? Quit exaggerating,” said Drimblerod as he stood, “I’ll come help you with your hundreds of customers.”

  Dummy shook his head at Drimblerod as he jerked a thumb at Grimbledung.

  “This will be fun.”

  Grimbledung moved so Drimblerod could move through the curtain.

  “I see four customers, Grimbledung. That’s good, but not what I’d call a ‘rush’.”

  “Sure it’s four now, but it’s usually six or seven and it’s been solid customers for hours.” Grimbledung’s stomach growled furiously. A customer glanced over at him. “See?”

  “So how much have you made?” Asked Drimblerod, still not convinced.

  Grimbledung pulled a bulging pouch from his belt. “Here, take this,” he said as he emptied the coins into Drimblerod’s cupped hands.

  “Well, there’s twenty copper, and a few silver here for sure.”. Drimblerod tilted his head, “But not hundreds of customer’s coins.”

  “Put it with the rest,” said Grimbledung flatly.

  “The rest?”

  “I had to keep emptying my pouch. Check the drawer by the Dispel Wand.” Grimbledung’s stomach made a sound like the last moments of a sink draining. “I’m starving to death. What a way for a Gnome to go.” He groaned.

  Drimblerod moved behind the counter to the Dispel Wand and pulled on the drawer with his full hands. It felt stuck. He dumped the coins on the counter and again pulled on the drawer. Heavily, it slid out, tilting dangerously downwards. It was over half full of coins- a solid layer of copper and silver two feet by two feet, three inches deep. Drimblerod swept the coins off the counter into the drawer and grunted as he pushed it shut. He thought for a moment. “What day is it?” He asked warily.

  “Grunsday,” replied Grimbledung.

  “Thraksday,” said a customer at the same time.

  They both looked at each other and repeated their answers.

  “Are you sure?” Grimbledung asked the customer; a Half-Orc.

  “I’m sure,” the customer snarled. “Yesterday was day off from the mines. Grunsday are not work days for Pike,” he said as he pointed to himself. “Pike goes to work from Thraksday to Moonsday,” he said mimicking what was most likely his mate, “Every day when the sun go down, Pike go to the Bronze Mines, not get in fights, and then ...” He continued to parrot in a voice two octaves above his.

  “Yes, yes. We get it” interrupted Drimblerod. “Thanks, Pike.”

  Pike smiled. A ‘thank you’ meant Pike was being good. Screams meant Pike was being bad. Pike’s mate had said to stop being bad.

  “Pike need light wand. You see ...” He started.

  “Give Pike a wand, Grim,” Drimblerod interrupted the Half-Orc again.

  Pike’s blood pressure went up slightly. He clenched his fists. Sometimes obeying a mate was difficult[5].

  “Oh the house!” Drimblerod added quickly, spying the clenched fists. “Thanks again, Pike! Come back soon, and bring your lovely wife.” He said moving around the counter. “Everyone, can I have your attention?” He continued, “We’re going to have to take a break for lunch.”

  “It’s not even ten in the morning,” said another customer - a human. “Lunch?”

  ‘More like brunch then,” corrected Drimblerod, “Pike, help the gentleman out with you. Thanks.”

  Pike, wand in hand, grabbed the human by the neck and led him out of the store. In true Orcish fashion, roughly. The other customers followed instead of waiting for Pike to return for them.

  “Thanks folks!” Called Drimblerod. “Flip the sign, Grim.”

  Grimbledung flipped the sign and the catch on the door. “What’s going on here?”

  I’ve heard about this happening in Enchanted Forests, but never in an actual building,” explained Drimblerod. “It has something to do with a lot of magic in one place mucking up time. Like a princess who sleeps for a hundred years but to her, it’s just a night.”

  “This,” said Grimbledung spreading his hands wide, “is nice, but it’s no Enchanted Forest. It’s not even the Emerald Forest, and that’s infested with Orcs.”

  “True, but is full of magic. More than normal right now so we’re at some sort of tipping point.”

  “So what do we do about it? Work until we starve to death?” Grimbledung’s stomach growled again. “My body seems to think it’s only been a few hours, but my stomach knows it’s been a lot longer. Let’s listen to my stomach,” he suggested.

  Drimblerod paced around the shop. “I’ve got it” he clapped his hands together, “the tavern across the street. It’s under new ownership since old man Hooper died and his sons sold off the place. I don’t know who bought it but maybe they can help us.”

  “Excellent suggestion, Drim!” Exclaimed Grimbledung as he unlatched the door, “Let’s go eat and have an ale.” He offered the exit to Drimblerod, “Grab a handful of copper, grab Rat, and let’s go.”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  “But I’m going to faint, I think,” whimpered Grimbledung as he closed the door.

  “No, no. We’re going to the tavern, but not just to eat,” explained Drimblerod.

  Grimbledung reopened the door, “Great! To the tavern. Eating and more!” This time he started to leave first. “Come on Rat,” he called.

  Rat sat up, “I thought someone said something about carrying me.”

  “I’ve got him,” said Drimblerod as he scooped up Rat, “I’ll just get some coins.” He moved behind the counter and filled his pouch with an assortment of silver and copper coins. “We really need to count all this. And see about getting it into the bank. It’s not safe keeping all this coinage around, you know.”

  “Deposit it later! Right now I need a deposit in my belly!” Whimpered Grimbledung from the doorway. With that he gripped his belly with both hands and bent over with a groan.

  “All right, all right, just calm down,” said Drimblerod. “We’re on our way. We’ll get this all sorted out and you something to eat.” He shook his head, “I can’t believe I am putting your stomach on even ground with the welfare of the shoppe.”

  Grimbledung groaned again, “I’m fading fast! Wax on while we leave.”

  “Fine, fine. Let’s get going then,” said Drimblerod. He looked down at Rat with a pained look in his eye, “Is this normal for him?”

  Rat looked at Grimbledung. He was bent over clutching his stomach with both hands and moaning. “Yep. Pretty much.”

  “Well we better get going before...” Drimblerod considered what he was going to say. “... Before he really starts acting strange.”

  “Starts? Are you in for a treat.”

  Grimbledung leapt at the ceiling then began to hop back and forth. With smile he burst into song

  We’re going to the Ta-vern right now

  My belly will be so happ-y.

  Meat and cheese and crusty bread!

  And an Ale or two for me.

  An Ale or two for me?

  Yes! An Ale or two for me!

  “Are any of his songs good?” Drimblerod asked Rat as he shut the door, following his dancing partner out.

  “No. Not a single one.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Wherein the Gnomes Make a New Partner

  The three crossed the sidewalk into the street, as they got there a group of Halflings, ten in all, crossed their path.

  “Hey there little fellas!” Said Grimbledung amicably, “we’re going to get something to eat!”

  The entire group skidded to a halt. The lead Halfling looked up at Grimbledung, “What’d you call me?” He snapped.

  “What?” Asked Grimbledung. He was still hopping back and forth out of excitement. “Me?”

  Drimblerod saw several of the Halflings rest their hands on the hilts of their weapons- the rest of them already had their hands on theirs. “Hold on
there, Halfling, my friend meant no disrespect,” began Drimblerod.

  The Halfling whirled on Drimblerod, “You callin’ me stupid or deaf?”

  “What?” Asked Drimblerod. “Me? How?”

  “Well,” began the Halfling as the others spread out around the Gnomes, “either I’m hard of hearing ‘cause your friend didn’t say what I thought he said, or I’m stupid because I didn’t understand what he said to me.” He glowered up at Drimblerod, “Which is it?”

  Drimblerod took a step back, “Listen, we’re just crossing the street going to get something to eat. We don’t want any trouble.”

  Several of the Halflings muttered “Trouble.”

  Grimbledung stopped hopping back and forth. “What?” He said again. This time his eyes narrowed.

  Drimblerod looked from his partner to the group of Halflings. From recent (Grimbledung) and not too recent (all Halflings) experiences, he knew that they were all unstable. Individually Halflings were fairly pleasant to be around. Once they got into groups of over three, their demeanor completely changed; they became bullying, cantankerous, and just downright unpleasant.

  Drimblerod smiled at the lead Halfling, “Listen, pal, how about we buy you and your friends a drink? We’re celebrating and would be happy to buy your first round.”

  The lead Halfling crowded Drimblerod, “I don’t need no stinking Gnome...”

  “WHAT?” Interjected Grimbledung.

  “... buying me or my mates drinks. Wec’n get our own drinks. When and where we want. Got it?”

  “Your loss then, Pal.” Drimblerod said. He grabbed Grimbledung’s shoulder and pulled him around to face the direction of the pub, “Let’s go Grim.”

  “Oh it’ll be grim all right,” sneered the Halfling.

  The others nodded. Several continued to mutter “Trouble.” Some said “grim.”

  “And you’re at the top of the list for when we hand it out.” He kicked a clod of dirt at the Gnomes.

  Rat who had been standing on Drimblerod’s shoulder the entire exchange hopped onto the Halfling’s shoulder. “I’m going to pee in your ear at one point in the near future.” He whispered into the Halfling’s ear as he hopped off.