What Is Best in Life?

(I think you know who I’m talking about…)

Grorm the barbarian strode purposefully through the foul wizard’s eldritch lair, massive sword clutched in one hand, while the other trailed one finger along the dust covered stones of the wall. Grorm sneezed. “Filthy wizards!” Grorm cursed. “Too stingy to hire a cleaning service.” Grorm bellowed in rage and his inchoate burst of anger echoed throughout the sorcerer’s cramped and twisting corridors. “Yahhh!” Grorm yelled, his massive boot knocking the last door down onto the floor. More dust flew into the air. Grorm sneezed three times in quick succession. “The devil take you, wretched warlock, or I will!” The room was full of books and scrolls and loose sheets of parchment and more books, books on shelves, books stacked on the floor, quills just lying all over the place, there was even a crocodile head or two, but mostly just books. Really it was pretty out of hand. A figure sat with his back to Grorm at a desk at the far end of the room. Grorm strode manfully forward and tripped on a stack of books, tried to get up, but his foot slipped on a piece of paper and he went down with a crash, more dust flying into the air. There was another sneeze. “Damn your eyes, you squint-eyed mountebank!” Grorm staggered to his feet, eyes red and watering. The figure at the desk wheeled around. Yup, wizard. “Oh ho ho, you dull-witted oaf. So you’ve come to match your mettle against the magical, mystical might of Mooglorb the… er… Mighty?” The wizard cackled and stood, arms raised, magical energy beginning to pour through his fingers. “Jubba jubba croopa poopa…” Grorm threw his sword through him. The wizard wheezed his last. “I expect you’ll be wanting my magical swords…” Cough cough. “Nah,” Grorm said, plopping some tiny reading glasses onto his nose, “I came for your books.”

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