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“Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we’ll find the perfect match here somewhere — I wonder, now —”
Eul eyed a wand at the top of his shelves, tapping his scepter and spiraling upwards on a column of wind. He grabbed the topmost wand and came down, landing heavily on his rump.
“Ouch,” he exclaimed, rubbing his backside. “Stupid patch.”
He continued. “This wand has an unusual combination — null talisman, staff of wizardry, recipe. Made from the red hair of a female fire-dragon. Nice and potent.”