Greetings mortals, buffoons, imbeciles, and other miscellaneous denizens of the plane inexplicably named after dirt. Ulesorin the Green returns to you from a far more sensibly named world, with wisdom, kindness, no small amount of condescension, and grace unmatched. 

I am here once more to offer you answers to those questions which plague you. Suffering is the lot of the uneducated, so I come to remove the agony that besets you, as though I were the sister of one of your parents… Even in my immense wisdom, I am unclear on why agony aunt is the title used for such things, but here we are all the same. You, staring gormlessly at my words, and I full of gorm, writing them.

To whit, I shall now prove my gorm by answering a flurry of your missives, in a rapid fashion akin to how I cast my magic missiles. Multitudinously, and with great haste.

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Sir,

The new newspaper delivery boy: he is always late. Try as I might, I cannot convince the youth to make his delivery at an earlier hour and this is having a detrimental effect on my mental health. I fear I am changed for the worse as I find myself contemplating the meaninglessness of existence far too often as I stare into the murky depths of my cornflakes, watching them slowly decay into a milky soup to be washed down the sink and consumed inevitably in the ocean depths, their existence rendered meaningless, null, void…

What should I do?

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This is a simple matter. Enchant said delivery boy with haste, then if he should fail to deliver at a sufficiently early hour, remove the enchantment of haste and replace it with a direct evocation of fire. This will ensure a new newspaper delivery boy, who will be entering into the arrangement with a sense of the stakes involved if he should make late deliveries.

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Dear Ulesorin,

 

My wife: she reorganises the kitchen cupboards on a monthly basis. I cannot find my cornflakes for the first week of each month and I fear were I to ask her to cease her habit it would cause difficulties.

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This is a simple matter, simply find something more fulfilling for your wife to do with her time. In my experience, laying a massive clutch of wizard-dragon hybrid eggs will occupy her for a great many hours, and then the management of the resultant army should ensure that there is entirely too much to do to interfere with you flaked corn storage. Alternately, a direct evocation of fire, assuming she is not of the red scaled variety, and thereby immune to fire damage.

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Sir, 

 

I am at a loss: when I sit down on my sofa my pockets are full of coin, but when I get up the coin is gone! I suspected that perhaps a thief was sneaking into my home and rifling my pockets when I nodded off and so I placed multiple cameras about the property, yet no burglar appears in the recordings!

Can you help?

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Assuming that your supposition is correct then this thief is clearly operating under some spell of invisibility, attempt to dispel said spell when you sit upon the sofa, lay down tripwires and wards to prevent approach from alternate angles, and be ready with a handy direct invocation of fire.

However, there is the distinct possibility that the matter you are dealing with is not one of thievery, but something markedly more dire. I would propose that the issue is your “sofa,” a word which I place into quotation marks to inform you that I do not believe it to be a sofa at all, but rather some subspecies of mimic that consumes gold, perhaps crossbred at some point in its ancestry with a Pulgasari metal-eater.

If it is some form of disguised Pulgasari, then may I remind you that attempts to destroy it with a direct evocation of fire will be entirely ineffective, and may result in your village burning down. Instead, attempt to lure it outside with something shiny and bar your door with a wooden beam so that it cannot munch its way back inside.

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In conclusion and in the parlance of your people, it is my duty to inform all and sundry that I am “back, bitches.”

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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 1794-year-old man who lives alone in a tower and claims to have magical powers.

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