From mountaintop high to dungeon deep, my name echoes forth across these blighted lands. Hissed from betwixt the pointed teeth of my foes and sung by the joyous masses in memory of my passing. It is I. Ulesorin the Green! Artiste of the arcane, braider of beards, conjurer of conundrums, diviner of destinies, evoker of enchantments, fulminator of flames, grinder of goblins, harbinger of happiness, incanter of incantations, jiggler of jellies, kicker of kobolds, lord of leprechauns, master of magics, noble of necromancy, obstructer of ogres, procurer of prophecy, quickener of quests, reader of runes, slinger of spells, tormentor of trolls, uncle of unicorns, ventilator of vampires, waver of wands, xenagogue of the xindha, yearner for yellow, and zenith of zappers.

Each turn of your moon I return with words of wisdom and guidance for those who had the wit to seek it. To all of my many titles I have proudly affixed the words “agony aunt”, so come now. Let us cut to the chase and solve your troubles apace!

***

Clerical Error writes:

My baby is a high priest… help?

My dear friend, I regret to inform you that divine magic is not my forte, but from my many centuries of adventuring I am able to divine some small but pertinent details about your situation. Were the child in question a little older, perhaps seven or eight, then his ascension to this role would be cause for celebration. Younger priests than that have had successful adventuring careers and then retired into long and comfortable administrative roles. However, you specified that this child of yours is a baby. No good religion has a baby priest. To discern whether one of the many demon cults of the universe has selected your spawn as their mouthpiece, please answer the following questions:

Has the baby begun to speak in tongues? Babbling inanely while those around it pretend to understand its utterings? Yes? Demon cult.

Has the baby begun to unleash an odious stench on occasion, similar to the scent of brimstone? Yes? Demon cult.

Has the baby ever sprayed a foul acrid liquid from any of its orifices? Yes? Definitely a demon cult.

Find your local cleric and demand that an exorcism is performed immediately. Alternately, join the relevant demon cult and live out the rest of your days in a hazy orgy, being praised incessantly as the bringers of their dark messiah. Either way, remember to burp the high priest before laying him down if you do not wish to suffer the Blasphemous Shriek of Doom.

***

Aging in Atlanta writes:

How can I live to be 1793 years old?

There is a very simple way to achieve the grand old age of 1793. The first step is simply to be born a wizard, flooded with the almighty and eternal powers of magic from the moment of your conception, and the second is to take the good advice of very clever wizards and don’t make them repeat themselves. Lest they smite you with lightning. Lightning is known to shorten the life expectancy. Unless one is already dead, in which case it is known to lengthen the life expectancy considerably. Lightning is neutral overall in terms of life expectancy. Forget I said lightning. Fireball. I’ll throw a fireball. There we are.

***

Email your problems to thefantasyhive@gmail.com with the subject: Ask the Wizard. Or leave a comment below. Having relationship issues? Need career advice? You name it, our ‘Agony Ant’ can help!*

*Disclaimer: All answers are provided for entertainment purposes only. It may not be in your best interests to follow advice provided by a 1793-year-old man who lives alone in a tower with nothing but animated furniture for company.