“How much will you give me for this, good shopkeeper?”
“That depends on what the hell it is.”
“A powerful amulet — made from real gold and jewels, nothing cheap — crafted by the Gem-Singers of the Purple Hills and then enchanted by Aggrazong The Patient to impart complete immunity to all necromagicks from simple curses to Death Words, stolen by me this past midnight from the bedchamber of Lady Orstrabald while she was away at Court trying to secure the King’s favor with her wanton dancing and conspicuous cleavage.”
“Ten crowns.”
“Your offer is insultingly low. But I accept.”
Anything for some ale, eh?
ReplyDeleteHe wants to be two towns away before Lady Orstrabald gets home. ;-)
DeleteInteresting....
ReplyDeleteD.B. McNicol
Romance & Mystery...writing my life
I love the last line - snarky, quick, decisive.
ReplyDeleteThanks very much for reading and commenting!
DeleteAh, I love the connotation of fenced here. That insultingly low is the icing on the amulet ;)
ReplyDelete