Slow clapping was a demon invention. Not much of a claim to fame, but I was related to the demon who maybe pioneered it. What an inheritance.

Kobold sauntered toward me, his claps punctuating the air. Lanky in frame, he was no taller than I was, your garden variety green-skinned, pointy-eared, bearded male redcap with a perpetual scowl, dressed in rough, homespun cloth pants and shirt. He snatched up his red pointed hat from the forest floor and slapped it jauntily on his head. The ...