“Why certainly gentlemen and I’m glad you asked! These are nothing other than the Amazingly Fantabulous, World Famous Whizbangs!”
Daerul and Kemmel stopped in the dusty street and looked toward the source of the racket. It was perhaps the shortest man Daerul had ever seen, standing lower than waist height to him and barely coming over Kemmel’s knees. He was bald all over except a horseshoe of snow white hair around the back of his relatively oversized head and a small tuft sticking out in front, which was carefully combed to one side. He was wearing a robe that may have been blue at one time, and they caught glimpses of sturdy traveling boots below it as he capered about. On a strap around his neck he carried a box of little sticks with paper wrapped around one end and little strings sticking from it.
“And what is a world famous whizbang?” asked Daerul.
“Well, I am a Whizbang, a whizbang is me! Lord Whizbang Dustyboots at your service.” Then, glancing down at the box and giving a start as if noticing it for the first time, he added “Oh yes, these are Whizbangs too. Famous around the world, you know.” He chattered off so fast it was hard to understand him.
“Lord Whizbang Dustyboots you said?” Daerul asked incredulously.
“You heard what I said and I said what you heard! Though what I should have said, or rather what you should have heard is ‘How many of these little marvels am I going to let you talk me out of?’” This was the first lord Daerul had ever heard that sounded so much like a chipmunk. “One hundred! I should say not, why I don’t even know if…” He spluttered to a stop as Daerul interrupted his deluge.
“What do they do?”
The tiny man looked up at Daerul as if he’d just asked why they don’t eat stones for supper. Turning to Kemmel he asked “The boy missing a few spokes in his wheel?” The older man just chuckled and shrugged. Turning back to Daerul, he took one of the sticks from the box and held it up in front of him. “Well, little one, all you do is light the end of the fuse here,” he said, pointing to the little string, “and then…” He looked up at Daerul expectantly, as if he’d just explained why fish don’t drink in taverns. Daerul just stared at him blankly. Shaking his head in disgust he exclaimed “and they go Whiz… BANG!”
Before either friend could say anything, Whizbang started off again. “Sixty, of don’t be ridiculous! I’ll sell you twenty and not a single more.” Producing a coin purse that looked suspiciously like the one Daerul had been wearing, he dug into it. “Ahh yes. Twenty, so carry the seven…”
“Hey, how did you get that?” exclaimed Daerul, feeling for his belt pouch.
“Oh yes, well here’s that back to you, and your Whizbangs. Mind you keep them out of the rain! Two boys in a hayloft! Look at the sun; I’ll miss tea if I’m not back soon!” And with that he scurried off before either could protest their dubious purchase.
“Quite an unusual fellow.” said Daerul, staring after the disappearing figure.
“Aye, shoulda warned you lad. That there was a knowm.”
“A knowm?”
“Sure, I reckon it’s ‘cause after you’ve seen one, you’ll know’m when ya see’m.”
That's an excerpt from my other thing "In The Wizard's hand." Thought I'd put it up by itself since it's guild-related (sorta).
Travis
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Heelar Salvavidas Grasalak Scorpse |
