Derek the Wanderer 2

When Derek pulled the colorful brown and green cloak from his shoulders in a swirling pinwheel blur the onlookers stood entranced. They had never seen one such as the towering man with his pouches and sacks full of tools and trinkets gathered from the many lands of his travels and explorations (not to mention exploitations). Nevertheless he seemed unamused by their bewildered expressions and tossed a satchel on the table, spilling small gears, levers and other apparatuses across the oak surface. With a collective gasp the crowd oooh’d and awww’d as Derek assembled a small clock right before their eyes with remarkable speed.  In a flash it was over. Somehow, as if through a tremendous force of magickal willpower, Derek had completed the clock already. No one understood it, yet none could doubt what they witnessed. Suddenly, a man at the back of the crowd shouted that he’d buy it for 15 Laranks. Another chimed in at 18 and more and more until the price had pushed up past 4 Sheldumns. Hastily bargaining with the top bidder Derek tucked his now hefty pouch of silver and gold beneath his cloak and moseyed on away.

                Now Darren Kettlesplumb was an honest man so far as honest men could be said to own a shady back alley corner store in the more than derelict district of the magnificent city of Thamond’s Gorge.  Though not one to often pull loose his purse strings there was something unusual about this clock and Darren couldn’t help but desire to get to the bottom of the mystery. He jostled aside the crowd after wrapping the clock gently in cloth and carried the swollen bundle out of the tavern, down towards his shop. Sweeping aside the fine linen wedding dresses, or what appeared as such at first glance, that littered the display table Darren placed the voluminous bundle in their stead with tremendous grace. It had seemed smaller when he first stuffed it inside the sackcloth, but now the pointed edges of the clock could be distinctly seen forcing themselves against the tight fabric. Curious, Darren peeled back the wrappings and to his great astonishment not only had the clock grown in size, but it had also changed. It was changing, morphing right in front of his eyes!

                Now free from its bindings the clock grew rapidly. From its humble beginnings as a funny shaped wooden box it grew, it evolved, developing intricate woodworking along slender lips and ridges. The clock face sprouted golden numerals and the hands elongated into spindly wisps of silver, while the base of the clock elongated and shot up swiftly one, two, five feet into the air. Then, as abruptly as it had begun the growing stopped and Darren was left standing wild-eyed and mouth agape at the grandfather clock now sitting on his tabletop.

                A distant chime told Derek that he had better hastily make his way out of Thamond’s Gorge and wither he will stop next only time shall tell.

Derek the Wanderer

Derek the Wanderer once stumbled over a great log from which a rabbit ran out the hollowed side and darted downward towards the briar patch. Unknowingly the rabbit accidently trampled over a serpent that had been slithering along in search of a tasty treat but upon being stepped on let out a great hiss. This inadvertently terrified a nearby dove on the low hanging tree branch directly above the serpent and caused the dove to fly away in fright eastward with the wind whereupon it landed on a shoddy chimney of a house in the village of Gnarlesburry. Now the chimney being poorly constructed and left without maintenance for the space of many years gave way under the weight of the obese dove and thereby collapsed with a great crash.  Bricks lay scattered about and the entire side of the cottage was in shambles, much to the dismay of the poor family that lived there. However, one unfortunate brick had struck the backside of a passing horse hauling a coach which drove him into an uncontrollable sprint down the main thoroughfare of the town. Upon reaching the town square, narrowly avoid several accidents to this point, the horse and buggy finally made an abrupt end to its race by slamming into a farmer’s giant pumpkin stand. As pumpkins and debris flew through the air, a great panic erupted and townsfolk scattered hurriedly to avoid being pummeled by falling produce. Amidst the commotion no one scarcely notice a disturb lantern had been knocked from its perch and smashed on the ground, igniting a gargantuan bushel of hay. The fire quickly spread to the nearby buildings and was carried on by the wind through the wooden buildings of the town faster than its citizens could organize and fight the flames. It was about this same time that Derek finally reached the end of the forest path and beheld the terrible crisis before his eyes. Fortunately, Derek was well versed in the ways of the wind and the water of yore and caused a tremendous storm of rain to fall upon Gnarlesburry, extinguishing the fire almost as quickly as it had begun. After dispersing the storm the townsfolk raised Derek upon their shoulders shouting praises and showering him with what little fortunes they still had remaining. Sadly, after enjoying the fine people’s company for only a couple of days, he was forced to speedily flee the village after an unwitting string of unrelated incidents implicated that Derek had spent an evening with the mayor’s young and very attractive daughter (this in fact was true, but the conclusion was reached through faulty evidence, hearsay and the appearance of a strange, furry goat). And so Derek the Wanderer traveled onward and wither he will stop next only time shall tell.