People who use two different weapons, one for each hand. There exists an unofficial club for these people, dedicated to finding and recording the effects of combining magically enchanted weapons. The 100 Swords of Sepathok are very popular with dual wielders who consider themselves members of this club.
"Man, I can't believe we're about to do this," said Gar, nervously fingering his pamphlets.
"Just be cool," said Brent, "Just tell yourself he's just another guy we're canvassing for membership. So what if he's like forty thousand years old?"
"But it's like we've been stalking him or something. It's not like it's his house... we followed him all the way to some Inn!"
"Exactly. He'll have to hear us out."
The duo briefly paused before knocking on the door. They heard some crashing sounds inside, and muffled curses.
"Omg, omg omg omg..." stammered Gar, "He's going to kill us!"
"Shut UP" hissed Gar.
Finally, the door opened to reveal a rugged figure whose fuzzy body was clad only in a loosely-secured tabard. His eyes were puffy and heavily lidded. Gar and Brent were surprised at how short he was, but tried not to make it obvious.
"Do the two of you have ANY IDEA WHAT TIME IT IS?"
"Um... uh..." stammered Gar.
"Sir, have you ever felt that something is missing from your life?" asked Brent, not pausing for answer, "I know I sure did. Many of us have felt different while walking through shops and looking at the vast array of shields, wands, and other accoutrements wielded by--"
"What the fliew'dar are you talking about?"
"My name is Brent and this is Gar. We're canvassing for your local chapter of the Dual Wielders. Sir, have you ever wondered what plan the Dual Wielders might have for you? As a member, you will be able to test the effects of wielding the most epic--"
"Look, first of all, I'm already the member of a pretty exclusive epic club. Second..." (he glanced behind himself as another crash and a somewhat higher-pitched cursing were heard in the background) "...this isn't what you'd call a good time for me to talk."
"Wait," said a curious Gar, "What's this club?"
"Let me put it this way: Are you going to get old and die someday?"
"I assume so."
"Well... Not me."
And with that, the door was slammed in their expectant faces. The pair remained standing at the door for several seconds in disbelief, as more strange muffled sounds emanated from within.
"I think I just peed a little" whispered Gar.
-- excerpted from The Wenching Hour
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