They Were The Best of Gnomes, They Were The Worst of Gnomes (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 1)
Page 29
The bottom half of the figure stood- another Gnome. “How’s about we stay,” he said. The words were of an offer, but the tone was more of a statement.
“We insist,” said Top-Half, “We’re your new partners.”
“No. What you are is another rotten potato to add to the weeks’ stew,” scowled Grimbledung as he too drew his wand.
“I don’ think you two ‘erd me right” began Top Half tersely - apparently the boss of the team.
“Keep your tongue behind your teeth!” Snapped Drimblerod as he poked his wand at Top Half’s nose. “And you and your lackey get out of our shop.” He raised the wand and now poked the Gnomes forehead with it, “And don’t ever come back.”
Top Half stood. “You’re not seen the last o’ us, I’ll tell you that!” He warned Drimblerod.
Drimblerod glowered at the Gnome, “Oh, I’m sure I’ll see you later. It’s been that kind of month.” With that he went back behind the counter.
Grimbledung was torn between confronting the two Gnomes from where he was, or to go stand by his partner. He chose the latter and moved behind the counter as well. He turned so they were both facing the interloping Gnomes. “Time to go,” he said.
The two Gnomes moved to the door together. Top Half turned to glower at them.
Drimblerod smiled widely, “Say, I’m sorry, I didn’t get your names.”
“Weber and Seiko” said Bottom Half (Seiko) as he pointed back and forth.
As soon as he did so, his eyes got wide.
Weber’s got even narrower.
“Great, great,” continued Drimblerod, still smiling as he put his wand on the counter and rolled up his sleeve, “I’ll make sure to pass your regards to the Gremlins” he finished as he showed them his six-toed tattoo. “They’ll have great fun with you when I tell them you were trying to get a piece of their action.” The smile ominously faded away, “Great fun.”
Both Weber and Seiko’s eyes got large as they saw the tattoo. They both tried to see which could get out of the shop faster. After a few moments struggle, they piled out onto the street together. Or at least close enough to call it a tie.
Chapter Thirty Seven
Wherein the Obligatory Bar Room Brawl Occurs
“What a pair.”
“You can say that again, Grim”. Drimblerod shook his head as he moved to the sign and flipped it to ‘Closed’.
“Think we’ll see them again?”
“Those two characters? I sure hope not. That would ruin my day, I think.”
Grimbledung rubbed his hands together. “So, celebrating then?”
Drimblerod nodded, “Definitely. This was a good day. We need to have a nice quiet drink to celebrate.”
“That’s celebrating?” Grimbledung frowned. “That’s it?”
“Well, maybe a little more.” He winked at his partner, “If we get cleaned up quick, we can get a table at the Mora Tau before the crowds show up.”
Grimbledung did a jig, “The Mora Tau?” He clapped his hands and began to sing
Oh we’re goin to the bar called Mora Tau
Have some drinks and maybe a little more?
Wow!
And to ease our eyes, there’s females there that are lookers!
All shapes and sizes! And willing cause they’re all…
“Grim,” interrupted Drimblerod. “Are you going to sing and dance or get ready to go? We need to beat the crowd or we’ll be stuck at the bar instead of a table.”
Grimbledung stopped singing but the jig didn’t.
“Cleaned up” Drimblerod pointed to the back of the shop.
Grimbledung nodded as he jigged his way to the back.
With a head-shake, his partner followed, Rat close behind.
“Can I go too?” Rat asked as Grimbledung changed his shirt. The act severely interfered with his jig, but didn’t stop it completely.
“Sure!” Said Grimbledung as his head poked out the top of his shirt. “The more the merrier, right?”
“As long as you two behave yourselves. The Mora Tau can get rough sometimes.”
“So we’ll blend in better?” Grimbledung splashed water on his face. “Right?”
“Absolutely. We’re rough and tumble. It’s rough and tumble. We’re a perfect match.”
“Rat,” warned Drimblerod, “keep it up and you’re staying home.”
Rat grinned at the Gnome. “I’ll be on my best behavior.” He looked at Grimbledung. “Him, I can’t make any guarantee for.” He gestured at the Gnome.
Drimblerod looked at his partner. He had a towel wrapped around his head like an Iranistan warrior. He was still dancing.
“You are not wearing that towel on your head.”
“I think it makes me look exotic.”
“No.” Said Rat and Drimblerod at the same time.
Dejected, Grimbledung removed the towel from his head. “Motasefane bedoone kale e-man”
“What’s that?” Asked Drimblerod.
“It’s Giantish for ‘not as exotic’.”
“You speak Giantish?”
‘Just a few important phrases.”
“I don’t see how ‘not as exotic’ is an important phrase.” Drimblerod reached down for Rat. “You ready?”
“I’m a rat. What’s to get ready?”
“You’d be surprised how often it comes up in conversation.” Grimbledung grinned. “Like now for instance.”
“Well, in any language, you’re not going out with a towel wrapped around your head.”
Drimblerod picked Rat up. “Let’s go then.” He squinted at his partner, “Towel-less.”
“I’ve heard it’s always important to have a towel with you when you go places.”
“Really?” Drimblerod moved to the curtain. “Never heard that.”
“I thought it was important to never panic,” offered Rat.
“That makes more sense.” Drimblerod reached out and pulled the curtain to the side. “Ready whenever you are, Grim. There’s drinking and carousing in our very near future.”
Grimbledung picked up his jig again as he moved past the curtain towards the front of the shop.
The three made their way quickly to the Mora Tau Bar and BAR- the sun was beginning to move completely into his nighttime resting place and at that point, the bar would fill up rapidly.
“Ahhh, the Mora Tau,” said Grimbledung. He looked up appraisingly at the building.
The Mora Tau took up over half a block, with the remainder being a parking area for wagons and beasts. Two large Orcs stood at the gate of the parking area. Each held a thick, leather wrapped club. If someone were in the mood to park a wagon full of gold out in the open, there wasn’t a safer place in town than the Mora Tau livery parking area. Once the appropriate bribe was paid to the Orcs, of course. The building itself was a massive two-story affair with far too many windows (and not enough structure) on the second floor. In many of these windows, ladies -of various races- leaned out and, in a complete role reversal, cat-called any and all passersby. The windows on the first floor were more evenly spaced and actually had curtains in them. Most of them anyway.
The structure appeared to have been built in stages; there were two distinct architectural styles in use, and one section that seemed to have been designed by someone who had never even heard of the profession of ‘architect’.
It was common knowledge that there was also a basement.
Grimbledung opened the door to the establishment and moved to the side for his partner to enter. “Let’s go to the basement.”
Drimblerod nodded as he entered the bar’s main floor. “We’ll start there and work our way up.”
“I’ll just stay downstairs, I think,” said Rat. “I don’t think I need to make a visit to the debauchery of the second floor.” He leered. “For that, I may head round back to the kitchen”.
“Suit yourself, Rat,” said Grimbledung as he followed his partner in.
The trio stood in the foyer and took in the sight. T
here were quite a few tables that were already full. People were already standing at the bar as well. “We’re too late,” said Grimbledung. “Standing at the bar. Branded a fool. What will they say tomorrow at the shop?”
“Don’t you start singing,” warned Rat. “The last thing I want is to be thrown out of this place. Yet again.”
Drimblerod moved to the stairs. “This floor may be full because these people have respectable jobs and got off early. Well we’ll just go to the floor where the folks who go there are still mucking stalls, or picking pockets.” As he started down the stairs, he turned to his partner, “Follow me.”
Grimbledung fell in step behind his partner as they went down the creaky stairs. Grimbledung slowed as he looked at the sketches that were framed and lining the staircase. I wonder who all these people are. Are they famous or something? When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Drimblerod was already at a table. There were several still vacant, in fact.
“Success!” Cheered Grimbledung as he flopped into the chair beside his partner. The chair creaked in protest.
“Careful, Grim. The furniture down here is pretty rickety.”
Grimbledung shifted his weight back and forth in the chair. It swayed under him. “With how much business this place gets, you’d think old Palmerlee would fork over a few coins for some better furniture.
Drimblerod raised his hand to summon a wench. “No, if the chairs were comfortably sturdy, they’d be lethal in a brawl. These nice and spindly chairs make terrible weapons.” He eyed his partner who was still squirming. “So stop squirming in that chair before you break it. You’re going to get us kicked out of here and we just arrived.”
“Not on your life. If there’s one place I’ve never been kicked out of, it’s a bar” tut-tutted Grimbledung. “When it comes to drinking, I’m a professional.” He smiled as the buxom serving wench approached the table. Even though it was early in the evening, she already had a tired look on her face. She was also the oldest person in the room by a couple of decades. Maybe three. Even so, her corset was cinched tight and her breasts seemed to pour over the top of her outfit in true serving wench fashion.
“Whaddayawant?”
“Tankards of ale,” said Grimbledung politely. He winked at his partner. “If you please.”
“Anythin’ ta eat?”
Grimbledung rubbed his belly. “Prolly. But first I want to get a few drinks down on an empty stomach.”
The wench narrowed her eyes at the Gnome. “Ya cheap er sumethin?”
“No, not at all, Miss...”
“Miss?”
“... Missus” tried Drimblerod. “He’s just impatient. Bring us a couple of chickens.”
“And no vegetables.”
Drimblerod glanced at Rat. “And no vegetables.”
“If you please.” Grimbledung winked again.
“Somethin’ wrong wit’ yer eye?”
“Errr. No?” Tried Grimbledung. “Just being polite is all.”
The wench stared at Grimbledung. Opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. She pointed a finger at him instead. Picking her tray off the table, she moved off to get drinks.
Grimbledung bounced up and down in his chair. “Oh boy, this is fun!”
“All right, Grim. We’ve got us a table and drinks on the way. That’s a good start. I’m going out to the facilities. Just please try and behave yourself while I’m away.”
Grimbledung waved a dismissive hand at his partner, “Don’t worry, I’m on my best behavior. You go make wee, and Rat and I will wait here.”
Drimblerod shook his head as he walked to the stairs. He had to wait to go up because of a group of Halflings was coming down. Once they passed, he went up. The Halflings stopped at the bottom and scanned the room. They nodded at another group of three Halflings sitting in a far corner. After a quick discussion, the four Halflings chose a table next to Grimbledung and Rat and sat down.
Rat leaned over towards Grimbledung. “There’s a lot of Halflings down here all of a sudden. Just don’t do anything crazy. Drimblerod and I would like to be here for a while. We’re celebrating, remember.”
Grimbledung nodded at his friend. When he spied the wench moving towards them, several tankards on her tray, he began to wave at her. “Ooohhh! Ooohhh!” He coaxed her on. “OOOHHH!”
When she got to the table and began to lower the tray onto it, one of the Halflings grabbed her arm to stop her. “Those are our drinks.”
The wench looked from the Halflings to the Gnome and Rat, and back again. “Ya stupid?”
The Halfling’s eyes got large, “What?”
“There’s four of you Halflings infesting that table. There’s three drinks on this here tray.” She snickered. “Oh, sorry. Which of you two are the couple? I can get you a pair of reeds so you can enjoy yer drink all romantic like.”
Grimbledung guffawed at the Halflings. A sharp look from three of them made him stop and rest his chin on the table. Silently. The fourth Halfling hadn’t taken his eyes off the wench.
“You’re awful bold for a used up wench.”
Grimbledung frowned. “Hey now; that’s not polite at all.”
Rat shook his head. “Don’t do it, Grim.”
The serving wench shrugged as she turned her back on the Halfling, “Better to be a bold used up wench than a loudmouthed little bitty Halfling.” As she picked up the tankards, she held her pinkie out. “Little bittie” she repeated as she waggled her pinkie.
Grimbledung guffawed at the Halflings. This time all four gave him a sharp look.
“Grimbledung,” warned Rat.
Grimbledung nodded as he picked up his tankard. “Thanks heaps. Can we run a tab?”
The wench leaned down on the table. Her breasts looked like they were on the verge of an exodus of some big old book proportions. “Are you respectable?”
Well...” Grimbledung looked down at his drink, then at the wench’s breasts, then her face. Then back at her breasts. Then back at her face. “Yes? I am co- owner of Secondhand Sorcery. The best used wand shoppe around.”
The Halflings laughed. “Used wand seller,” said one.
Grimbledung glanced at the Halflings.
The wench ignored the Halflings and continued to stare at Grimbledung.
“Oh, I know tha’ place. Down near Pozzuoli’s it is.
Grimbledung nodded, “Sure is. Me and Drimblerod run it. Together.” He smiled. “Rat helps too.”
Rat nodded. “That is true.” He took a sip of his drink. “I’m a key employee, actually. Key.”
“And we have a dummy that helps too.”
“A dummy!” The Halflings erupted in laughter. Grimbledung glanced at the Halflings.
“Well, I’ve seen you down here before. And your partner,” said the wench as she straightened, “I’ll keep a tab for you.” She took a charcoal stick from her apron and put three slash marks on the table. “Three so far.” She winked and moved off.
“Hey guys, I got a shop” said one Halfling. “And we have a rat that works for us.”
Grimbledung glanced at the Halflings.
“Oh, that’s grand. Do you have anything else?” Asked a third Halfling innocently.
“Well, we have a dummy too.”
The Halflings laughed uproariously.
Grimbledung glanced at the Halflings. He put down his drink.
“Grim...”
Grimbledung stood up and moved to the Halfling’s table. They didn’t notice him because they were all laughing too hard. “Excuse me.”
The Halflings stopped their laughing and looked at Grimbledung. “Which one is he?” Asked one.
“I think he’s the rat.”
“Or maybe the dummy”.
They all began to laugh again.
“Grim...” Rat tried again. “How about you sit down until Drimblerod gets back?”
“Yeah, go sit down until your partner gets back,” laughed a Halfling. “We saw him on the stairs. He’s such a sweet looking partner.”<
br />
Grimbledung breathed in deeply.
“Look out! He’s going to blow!” Another round of laughter commenced.
“Grimbledung, let’s take our drinks upstairs,” suggested Rat.
“Yeah, go upstairs, Gnome. Back home to your stinking, wand-selling, garbage-scow shop.”
Grimbledung put his hands on the edge of the Halfling’s table. “Don’t you think you ought to rephrase that?”
One Halfling nodded as he suddenly became serious. “Yes. You’re right. I didn’t mean that your shop was selling garbage.”
Grimbledung nodded.
“I meant to say your shop should be hauled off as garbage.”
Grimbledung punched the Halfling in the mouth.
“Here we go.” Rat took a drink of Ale. If history were any indication, soon there would be no tankards left.
The Halfling leaned back in his chair from the punch, as he did, its back legs gave out and he crashed backwards. The other Halflings quickly got to their feet.
Rat slid a tankard over to the edge of the table. Grimbledung reached out and grabbed it as it began to teeter of the edge. Without interrupting his swing, he brought the tankard around and hit another Halfling on the side of the head with it. It exploded in a shower of ale and clay shards. A large gash opened on the Halfling’s cheek. Blood began to wash the ale away.
The remaining two Halflings grabbed Grimbledung by the arms and yanked him onto the table. Thanks to the new coating of ale, he slid off the end and crashed into the table beyond it. It collapsed into splinters. As it did, the drinks on it soaked the three Humans sitting there.
One picked up Grimbledung.
“Thanks!”
Another Human punched him in the face, sending him reeling back towards the Halflings. The four Halflings hefted Grimbledung in the air and tossed him onto his table. Unbelievably, it remained intact. Rat spun the last tankard around and Grimbledung grabbed it by the handle. He swung it at a Halfling, catching him across the bridge of his nose. Dutifully, his nose began to spurt blood and point in a completely different direction.
A Dwarf at a nearby table stood and grabbed one of the Halflings by the shoulder and spun him around. “Ya should pick on someone yer own size, Laddie,” he said. Then he head-butted the Halfling.