9,999 Bottles On The Wall

The next quester entered the chamber, and seemed surprised to see me. They spoke, and I eventually my translation headband worked out what they were speaking and translated me.

"Greetings! One of the bottles in this room contains the elixir of eternal life. The rest, death. You must drink one."

They looked around the room, every surface covered with bottles of every type.

"The one on your belt."

I held it out to them.

"Clever!"

They drank it.

"Wrong, but clever. But then again, everyone picks that one."

Once they'd dissolved, I drank from the bottle hidden in the doorframe.

Prophecy Problems

There were two problems with the prophecy. One was that for all its detail about the name, appearance, and skills of the one destined to overthrow the tyrannical King Ciker and usher in a new government, it lacked a timeframe or date.

The second problem was that everyone knew of the prophecy, and thus that name was given to every child that vaguely fit the description, most of whom grew up to die storming the castle.

The fact the prophecy was completely untrue wasn't a problem as much as it was the point, that's why King Ciker had it made.

Unhuman Nature

The Golem sat, passive in a way only a being that was technically a thing could be.

The Priest railed and shouted at me, supposedly, but really, I knew, he was yelling for the benefit of those waiting outside.

His issues with the Golem were threefold.

Its 'immorality' I easily overruled, given the Priest's god was the origin of the magic.

Its 'being against nature', that was easy one, given we were in an unnatural building.

Its 'dangerous nature', I laughed off. To prove my point, I ordered it to kill the Priest.

I didn't know it'd actually do it.

The Rules Of Life

The rules of life were fixed. Life was cold, wet, and unhappy. Then someone worked out how to break the rules with fire.

The rules of life were fixed. Life was violent, brutal, and short. Then someone worked out how to break the rules with bows.

The rules were fixed, then came iron. Navigation. Soap. Contraception.

Every time the rules of life seemed fixed, someone discovered something that broke them.

And then someone discovered magic, and that seemed to break the rules permanently.

But magic had the most rules of all.

Until someone worked out how to break those too.

All Good Things

I didn't see the truck coming.

I found myself looking at what remained of me, and then a bony hand gripped my shoulder.

"All good things must come to an end."

I looked up into the face that wasn't so much bony, as bone.

"Don't I get to play you at chess for a chance to survive?"

It looked at the remains.

"You really want to go back in there, now?"

"I just... don't want to die."

"Who said anything about death?"

"What are you then?"

"The one who decides if you're good enough to advance."

I went round again.

Useless Magic Devices

I made my weekly trip to the Wizard's Tower to get his new useless inventions.

He proudly placed the glass bottle on the table.

"It produces a never ending supply of liquorice jamdrops."

I poured one out and tried it.

"This is... actually useful, in a way. Better than the Shield of Glasses Repair or the Stick of East North East."

He beamed. "It's the last one she'll need!"

This was new, and I pressed him on it.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? A hero will need all these to save the world in a week."

"Jamdrops?"

"She'll be hungry!"

Hot Chef

The chef was famous throughout the Twelve Lands for his fusion dishes. The Elven Soul Leaf salad with Orcish Fungus Relish was what got him on the map, and after that he produced hit after hit. The Toasted Dwarven Bread Sandwich with Banshee Jelly was a great hangover cure, and everyone eats Gnome Bit infused Gnoll Scrolls.

Throughout the years, he just produced dish after dish, every one working great. But throughout, he never touched Human food. I finally asked him why.

"Too bland" was the response. Which, when you're a dragon, I suppose that's a fair thing to say.

Five's A Party

They were lined up against the wall, the four of them.

The firing squad were lined up, Forcebolt wanda aiming at their heads. The Guard Captain raised his hand.

The Paladin called out to stop, she had to finish her prayer. The squad waited.

The Guard Captain raised his hand.

The Ranger screamed, and asked for a blindfold. The squad waited.

Hand went up. The Rogue asked for a cigarette. The squad waited.

The Mage just stared at the Guard Captain as they raised and lowered their hand.

The Bard, still impersonating the Guard Captain, snuck out with the Loot.

Weaponised Food

There have been many food based weapons in history. From the Blackhill Dwarves and their feared Dwarven Pasta flails, to the Jimoss Forest Elves and their Roasted Chestnut Grenades, many races have used edible items as weapons.

Then there were the Gnomes, with their Dank Valley cheese, the odor of which was banned by several treaties and bylaws. These were in the process of being updated to include Gnomes eating the cheese and then breathing on beings, which was worse.

But the biggest weaponised food ever was a simple piece of cake.

That contained fruit the king was allergic to.

With 12 Magic Words

The Demon Girl appeared in a puff of red smoke.

"So what's your pleasure... Baby?"

Her smile that was calculated to be exactly the right amount of alluring faltered as she saw what passed for a summoning circle.

She picked up one of the bridles laying next to it, then looked up.

The stableboy stared at her.

"Look, I don't know where you came from, but I've got a dozen horses to catch, so-"

"Do they have weird Latin names?"

"Yes, why?"

She made all his dreams come true. She got all the horses back in their stables without injury.

Simon Says

I called it "Simon Says", since I'm Simon. And with just a specfic hand movement from someone with magic energy, they could force anyone to obey a command, if you could express it in one word.

Now, I knew that wasn't true, I knew that it was that your average Human or Elf or Whatever could only concentrate on one word's worth of actions to implant.

But then a Goblin learnt it. And they consider their entire lives to be one giant word. And they're used to thinking of multiple actions in one thought.

My spell conquered the world, though.

Check

We played every day, or rather, every day I crushed him.

It wasn't that he kept doing the same thing over and over again, he always did something different, it was just never good.

Until today.

Today, every move was brilliant, I was tossed around like a leaf in a tornado.

When he got checkmate, I stared at him and demanded to know how the hell he got good overnight.

He claimed he'd sold his soul to the devil for skill with chess.

We laughed, me much more than him.

I knew damn well I hadn't bought shit off him.

Statistician's Wish

It didn't look like a magic lamp you see on the cartoons, but a genie still popped out, as well as a large chocolate spinning wheel thing.

"Ah, welcome my new Master, have a wish?"

They placed a hand on the wheel.

"What's the wheel for?"

"Oh, well, every wish you make, I have to spin the wheel, see if you get it or death."

I thought this over.

"So, like, 3 is the mode of number people get?"

They shrugged.

"OK then, I wish for a trillion dollars."

They spun.

Despite understanding chance theory, I was never actually lucky.

Death's Feelings

After I failed to kill him for the fifth time, and I was tired, I summoned Death.

Death took the form of a young girl this time, licking a black lollipop.

"Yeah?"

"I've been trying to kill Rasgiven. He refuses to die."

"Yeah. OK. So?"

I stared at her.

"You... Don't you want to help take him down? Don't you want to claim him?"

She shrugged.

"If someone has worked out how to avoid me, I applaud them for it. I get plenty of you, I don't need everyone. You're good enough."

"What do you mean I'm-"

Rasgiven killed me.

Projecting An Image

The Princess had been locked in the tower for a week, but she was still polite to the servants.

On the 8th day, the maid quietly had a word with her.

"I appreciate that this isn't the ideal start to the relationship, but Master is actually a nice man, he just needs to portray an image of ruthlessness to discourage enemy attacks."

The Princess nodded at this, as the maid continued.

"Now, I'm sure you disbelieve me, but I-"

"Why should I disbelieve you? You're lying? Shame!"

The maid burst into tears, knowing she'd get the whip for failure now.

Take The Shot

The arrow was ready to fly, the bowstring drawn back taut as he waited for an opening.

He'd only have one chance for this. The Dragon's sensative, weak undercarriage was almost never exposed, the Dragon knew how to defend itself.

So he had to wait to use his best arrow, embued with magic and poison, and he had to make sure he'd hit it.

The Dragon landed, and then its momentum caused its back haunches to rise, and he fired.

As did everyone else, so while his shot didn't land, enough did.

He should have been happy, and yet, no.

The Specific Term

After intensive study, I'd finally worked out how to summon Death. Three different animal sacrifices, twelve different candles, 13th full moon of the year.

"Death, He Who Ends Life, I Beseech You To Appear!"

Nothing happened.

So I studied, and a few years later, I tried again.

"Death, She Who Ends Life, I Beseech You To Appear!"

Yet again, nothing happened.

I had a few years to wait for the next one, and I think I had it.

"Death, They Who Ends Life, I Beseech You To Appear!"

"Finally! It hurt to see you get so close before.

Answer's no."

End Everything (Written)

The spellbook had an infinite number of pages, in theory. Every spell that was created in the world would appear in its pages, under the gaze of the Librarian. It was a boring task, but an important one, as someone had to watch and read to see if anyone created a spell that was dangerous, so they could be contained.

But then one day, the spell to end everything came up in the book. And while he would have been able to stop it, the creator was smart.

The spell was cast by reading it silently in your head, see.

Stirring The Pot

Every day, the little old lady sat at the window of the store, a rug over her lower half, constantly stirring a pot of crunchmix, adding stuff as needed. For a coin, she'd put a scoop in a leafbowl and hand it over, bigger scoops and bowls for silver and gold coins.

The local children all had theories as to what was under the rug. Tentacles was the most popular theory, but clockwork had its advocates.

Eventually, a brave lad snuck in and looked, revealing nothing.

As in no legs at all.

That was viewed as a disappointment by everyone.

Symbolism

The arrow was the one that killed King Brek. It was pulled out of his neck, and given it had maintained its shape but was blood soaked, it made for a perfect symbol of the new Republic.

It was framed and hung above the throne, as a reminder to all that the throne would remain empty, and why.

But then, Suvia claimed the Goddess had chosen her to rule, she claimed that the throne was hers.

After a long battle, she captured the throne, and when she sat down, the arrow fell.

And landed in her hand, proving her point.