ASK THE WIZARD – Tricks Are For Initiates
Greetings ye unwashed masses, tis I, Ulesorin, come once again to the page of your lightning box to translate the most magnificent and complex thoughts into drivel that even you ought to understand.
How’s being a wizard going? Can you do any cool tricks?
This month’s question is detestable for a number of reasons. The contempt for the great art of wizardry. The reference to the Greater Spells by which all of reality is bound and wrought as “cool tricks.” Even the complete absence of a return address by which I might have delivered onto my thoughtful reader the kind of curse that would render goats sterile everywhere in a blast radius equivalent to the size of a small kingdom being dropped from orbit. Worse yet, it is two questions in one. Any genie or enchanted door worth their salt offers only a single answer, yet I am expected to give two to this absolute nothing of a letter?!
Can I do any cool tricks?
I have rent the stars from the sky and cast them down, I have defeated foes by might of arcanum that would render babbling simpletons of lesser wills, I am a wizard of the highest order, and I shall not have my achievements brought to the level of some common illusionist or purveyor of fancies. The world-storm bends to my words. The primordial flame flinches and flutters in my presence. I am the keeper of the secret lore that has gone unspoken since the universe’s birth and when all the suns that all the worlds swivel about have gone cold and dark I shall speak my spell and remake all of creation. How are those for cool tricks?
Would you prefer that I pull a rabbit from my hat? Would you prefer to become the rabbit that I pull from my hat come supper time? It isn’t cannibalism if you’re polymorphed. I should know, I passed my Ethics for Sorcerers module with flying colours after transforming the instructor into a goldfish and consuming him whole.
How is being a wizard going?
Terribly. Every passing moment is a greater tragedy, exacerbated by observation. My eternal life has ever been plagued by the troubles of lesser minds, and even now as I enter my twilight millennia I am plagued by buffoonery such as this.
My tower’s construction is complete, yet it still lacks the homey lived-in feeling that it takes several centuries to truly cultivate, so I find that I am uncomfortable and disconsolate despite the great care that others have put into its construction. It is vast and empty. I am… lonely.
While wooing is no longer within my wheelhouse after my last failed romance put a pin in matters, not to mention the ongoing effects of briefly being a newt upon my sexual proclivities, I find myself longing for some companionship to carry me on through the vast oceans of eternity. Someone who I could share not only my wisdom with, but also a jolly laugh or a conversation or two. Once every month or so when my scrolls cease to engross me.
To wit, I have been seeking an apprentice to take their place alongside me in the tower. To learn from my vast experience and to become one of the mightiest masters of the arcane in all the free lands. You may recall me discussing this in a previous missive.
So far, the pickings have ranged from dire to offensive. My options thus far for a recipient of profound knowledge of the building blocks of creation are;
- a) A druid. Needless to say, I will not be taking their application further. If I wanted a hairy creature reeking of excrement in my tower, I would purchase a pet. Or in the case of this gentleman, some sort of yak.
- b) One of the kobold lawyers interns. In their application they expressed that wizardry looks less complex than law, and that they wouldn’t mind the pay cut. They currently receive nothing, scrabbling with the other interns for scraps from the lawyers lunches, so at least they have an accurate grasp on the rewards of my profession.
- c) I am placing a third applicant here only because three is a magical number, and not because there was in fact any other option. The fact that I am giving serious consideration to a kobold at this point is a testament to how far my glorious profession has fallen from grace.
Applications remain open, if there are any within your world who have mastered the basic competencies involved. Please do not self-reject, as the ability to make water exclusively within the designated chamber would currently place you head and shoulders above the current applicants. Head, shoulders and most of your torso above the kobold, most likely.
Email your problems to firstname.lastname@example.org 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 1794-year-old man who lives alone in a tower and claims to have magical powers.