Word: Biblioklept

 

biblioklept

[ bib-lee-uh-klept ]

noun

1. a person who steals books.

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               There were a lot of guards around. All of them stood around a single place. In that place stood a pedestal. On that pedestal was a book. A large, old book with a heavy leather cover and ornate embossing. None of the party guests could see what was so important about that book. There were so many other pieces of art on display that many wondered about the owner’s mental state.

               After all, why protect a book when a fine marble statue stood not twenty feet away? And then there was the display of fine jewelry that lined the walls in neat cases. And the paintings simply covered the walls. So why was the book the only thing with protection?

               The owner of all the art on display, Lord Keller, made his way around the room, speaking to guests. All of them complimented him on the quality and variety of his collection. Many remarks and inquiries were made about where he got them or who made certain pieces. But nobody asked about the guards around the book.

               That changed when one of the younger guests decided his curiosity outweighed the social problems that asking would cause.

               “Simple.” Lord Keller said. “I anticipate that particular book will be the target of a thief.”

               “A thief? Really?” The young lordling asked. “Why would this thief steal a book instead of the jewels in your possession?”

               “Yes, really. First of all, that book is very rare, and just as valuable as anything else in my collection. More valuable than some, in fact. But yes, a thief. A very odd one. He’s been called the Page Taker. He only steals one thing. Books. Nobody knows why this is, but many a rare and valuable book have been stolen by this man.”

               The young noble nodded. “Ah, I think I see. I do have to wonder what this Page Taker is thinking though. I mean, books?”

               “A lot of experts are wondering the same thing. Personally, I think he’s a scholar. He takes books that aren’t found in any library, you see. I believe he seeks knowledge that others don’t have.”

               “Sounds more like he’s just trying to make a name for himself.”

               “Oh?”

               “History is full of famous criminals, and all of them have something that sets them apart from a beggar stealing bread. Uncommon skills. A flair for the dramatic. In this case, an unusual target.”

               “That might very well be.” Lord Keller said with a nod. “I still hold by my guess, but we can hardly know for sure.”

               “At least not until he’s caught, yes?”

               “Quite so, quite so. With any luck that shall be tonight. And if not, then at least I will be a small part of a no doubt great story.”

               “I think I would prefer to not be in the story of a thief, if it’s all the same to you.”

               “Of course, of course. To each their own. I have more fine people to talk to, so if you will excuse me?”

               Lord Keller went off leaving the young guest to his own devises. The young noble’s eyes fell to the book, and then to the guards. He could imagine a dozen ways for a skilled thief to avoid or incapacitate all of them without being seen. Maybe he would hang around longer. After all, catching a famous thief was quite the story indeed.

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Remember, everything is valuable to someone. Just because you don't think something is worth having, doesn't mean someone else won't think it's worth having, no matter what it takes.

Word: Bumbershoot

 

bumbershoot

[ buhm-ber-shoot ]

nounInformal: Often Facetious.

1. an umbrella.

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               Dave leaned on the end of his sledgehammer. It was cheap, and not nearly the best out there. But it was what he could afford, and it would do for his purposes. He was the first of them to arrive, although he could already see Jill coming. He could imagine what she would bring. Probably something small and quick. It was Pete that he was really concerned about   . He was almost guaranteed to bring something weird.

               Once Jill got closer, she took one look at Dave’s hammer. “Huh. I thought you’d bring a sword for sure.”

               “Swords are cool and all, but they’re only good against unarmored enemies. Hammers are good against everything.”

               “And since we have no idea what we’re going up against…”

               “Exactly. How about you?”

               Jill took off the backpack she had been wearing and pulled out a rope. It was quite long, and each end had something tied to it. On one was a knife, and the other a fairly sizable chuck of metal. Dave could tell she had spent quite a bit of effort to make sure both were as secure as possible.

               “I figure once everything gets upgraded, this’ll be fun to use.” She said proudly.

               “Isn’t that kind of stuff really hard to use?”

               “That can be said about any weapon. I’m pretty sure using a hammer is more than just swinging it around.”

               Dave nodded. He had kind of been hoping that was all it would take, but now that he thought about it, she was probably right. Hopefully the beings who contacted them about this not-so-little tournament would include combat training in addition to making their chosen weapons stronger.

               “I guess Pete isn’t here yet?” Jill asked.

               “Nope. Is it bad that I kind of hope he’s a no show?”

               “A little bit, yeah. But it doesn’t matter, here he comes now.”

               Sure enough, Pete was making a mad dash towards the meeting place. He didn’t have any packs like Jill had, but he did have an umbrella in his hand for some reason. When he met up with the other two, he doubled over and gasped for air with his hands on his knees.

               “S-sorry I’m late.” Pete said, every word followed by a deep breath. “Had to put the finishing touches on my new baby.”

               “Pete, please tell me you brought an actual weapon.” Dave said. “Please tell me that umbrella isn’t it.”

               “Why? It totally is.”

               Dave rubbed his forehead. Jill sighed heavily.

               “No, no. It’s fine, really.” Pete said. “See, I totally weaponized it, and I figure once it gets all aliened up, it’ll be super useful.”

               He held the full size, non-collapsing umbrella out and flicked a small button that he had definitely added himself. A piece of metal popped out of the top. It was clearly sharpened, and even had a slight edge to it. But it was barely four inches long, and did not look to be particularly well fastened.

               “That’s going to fall apart the first time you use it.” Jill said with slumped shoulders.

               “Right now, sure. But like I said, upgrades. Super, awesome upgrades that’ll totally make this a badass weapon.”

               “A spear would’ve been better.” Dave said. “Easier to make, and maintain. Plus it’d be longer and most likely easier to use.”

               “And a spear is a tested weapon that’s been used for pretty much all of human history.” Jill added. “That is something made to keep the rain off you with a pointy thing stuck on the end.”

               “Oh, just you wait. This is going to be great, you’ll see. I bet it’ll become the perfect weapon that combines attack and defense. Way better than a hammer and…whatever you picked, Jill. Hold on, is that a rope with a knife on it? Why aren’t you complaining about that?”

               “Because this is an actual weapon.” Jill said. “Ninjas used this kind of thing all the time. It’s perfect for all kind of things, even out of battle. Yours is only good on a rainy day.”

               Before the argument could continue, a bright light filled the area. It did not have a source, and seemed to radiate from everywhere at once. All three of them became silent. This was it. Their ride was here.

               “Well, looks like we’ll just have to see what happens.” Dave said. “And hope to god that Pete didn’t screw us over with a bad weapon choice.”

               A moment later, all three had disappeared. Gone from the face of the Earth, and off towards someplace far greater. 

**********************************

You know it's either going to be an awesome, incredibly useful weapon, or totally useless. There's pretty much no in between with something like this. 

Word: Defenestrate

 

defenestrate

[ dee-fen-uh-streyt ]

---

verb (used with object),de·fen·es·trat·ed, de·fen·es·trat·ing.

1. to throw (a person or thing) out of a window: A Portuguese bishop, accused of conspiring with the leaders of Castile, was defenestrated from the north tower of Lisbon's cathedral in 1383.

2. to suddenly remove (a person) from an important position or office: The chief executive was defenestrated after a corruption investigation.

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                  There were a lot of things Jack thought he would be doing with his life. Traveling, getting a job. Maybe start a family at some point. What he definitely did not see him doing was threatening to throw a man out the window of a very tall building.

                  He considered the course of events that led him to this situation. It seemed like something out a poorly written action movie. A normal guy gets involved with a spy or secret agent and normal guy has to step up and prove his worth to save the world. Well, Jack was not exactly saving the world, and he had yet to meet a spy, but the core of it was still there.

                  “Come on man, y-you don’t have to do this!” The other man shouted, glancing down at the far too distant ground.

                  “Yeah. I probably don’t.” Jack agreed. He held the rope that was the only thing keeping the other man from the plummet. “Then again, you didn’t have to try and stab me, did you.”

                  Jack had never thought he would be stabbed. Well, he still had not been, but the intent had been there, which was something Jack had never thought about happening in his life. Jack was not exactly a trained killing machine, but when another man was coming at you with a weapon, certain instincts tended to take over. Which brought them both to the current situation of Jack almost throwing said attacker out the window.

                  “Hey, I’m just here doing my job, you know?” The panicked man said. “My boss told me to come in here and kill the first guy I see. It wasn’t supposed to be you!”

                  “You know, that doesn’t make me feel much better?” Jack said. “I mean, you were still trying to kill someone. Seems like this hole dropping you thing would be justified by most courts.”

                  Jack wondered about that. I did seem like a fairly straight forward self-defense situation, what with the knife and all. But he was fairly sure that this was something of a grey area, what with the danger mostly having passed at this point. The attacker had dropped the knife when half his body exited the window. That did not mean he was harmless, but the danger was much reduced. Jack would have to look up the legal ruling later.

                  “L-Look, I…I can give you info. Don’t you want to know why someone was going to get killed? I bet my original target will pay for that. I’ll tell you everything. Employer, location. All that stuff!”

                  “You know, I’m not really sure I want any of that. See, someone who would hire an assassin once would probably have no problems hiring another one to keep whatever secrets you spill. And this one would probably have a gun instead of a knife.”

                  The attacker opened his mouth, most likely to protest, but paused. “Yeah, yeah he would absolutely do that.”

                  “Exactly. I figure I’m already in a bad spot just by being in this position, so why make it worse? Hm, if I pull you up and restrain you, would your employer consider negotiation?”

                  “Probably not. I already screwed up, you know?”

                  “Ah. Right. Shame. You know, most people at one point ask themselves if they would be capable of killing someone. I always thought the answer would be no. It’s weird though, but I think I might have to rethink that.”

                  And with that, Jack let go of the rope. The attacker screamed as he fell. The sound did not last long. Jack did not watch the man fall. He took a few deep breaths and looked at his hands. Then he collapsed into a sobbing, blubbering mess on the floor of the office. 

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   Every time I see this word, it amazes me that it exists. Such a wonderful, niche word that would wouldn't think needs to exist. And yet, here it is. Language is funny like that, isn't it.