sarbithewizard

Latest Posts by sarbithewizard

I fixed it for you.

"So, how's the wife?"

"Ah yes, the old ball and chain."

"That's a little rude, don't you think?"

I pull out a wedding photo from my wallet and you see me at the altar across from a chain chomp with a pink bow.

"Well we're here now, so what do you think?"

"The script is all wrong. It's in a first era type when it should be second. The curvature of those lines make it ever so slightly oblong, and over here you can see where they corrected but you'll still have instability. I wish you hadn't brought me here."

"You're the only one I know that could tell me all that!"

"Yeah, and a picture would've been fine too. This thing could blow at any minute! I'm not equipped for demon hunting, especially the unbound sort this sloppy work will bring!"

"Shit."

"Shit, indeed."

Prompt #1181

"I feel like this is one of those things you should have told me earlier."

Don't look behind me adventurer. I think the golems are following me and I need your help. Whatever you do, do not look into their eyes. They're glamoured to entice you like a siren does a sailor. They're built for sin to draw you in and bring about your end. Do not engage. Spread the word and get. me. help.

I believe you need a bit more stirring in your combination process. While the stripes may look nice in the cauldron, you'll get much more consistent results when the batch is a solid hue before firing. Good conjuration work besides, though.

I hope the oath wins over the curse. It's much more interesting to be sworn to amber and rot. That necromancer raising dinosaurs from oil in a modern fantasy would be killer. Sworn to take down the corruption of the corporate overlords. Bonus ancient diseases from raised bugs or using amber bound creatures as a focus. A curse is involuntary and dull. An oath is purposeful and full of volition.

let's make a "the [noun] of [noun] and [noun]" fantasy book title!

"That simple?"

"That simple." I said, handing the paper over.

"What's it do?"

"Kid, that's a ward against scrying and blood magic. Don't ever accept a deal like this again. You failed."

Wait, are you saying that magic is real?" "Yes." "And you can test if I have magical potential?" "Yes. It's simple: a piece of paper, a drop of your blood, and a simple spell."

Beginning about first quarter of the first sextant of the solar cycle there is a special state of psychological being that allows one to engage with the arcane even in the waking state of those living in the mundane reality. This is the time that wizards thrive.

The man at ten in the morning gave me a wary look as he accepted the package of sandwich bread, his payment left at the edge of the counter in exact change.

My favorite regular came in a quarter to eleven. She doesn't speak a lick of English but always bows to me at the door before letting it swing closed again.

Sometimes I can tell a spirit has taken a swipe at someone or said something inappropriate by their flinch or a flush to the face.

On rare occasion, those comments spark a full on fight like I was the one who gave them a lewd comment or an insult to their honor.

Everyone reacts differently to my collection. While it can be an inconvenience at times, I bake the best bread in the city so they have to come to me for something or another.

It doesn't get to me much though. My regulars know what's up, and those here for a sample either become regulars or are never seen here again.

Sometimes I think about hitting up the local priest to really give the spirits in my wake a piece of my mind. Ultimately it wouldn't change anything, though, and I've gotten used to the scared and disdainful reactions by now anyway.

The real treat comes when a "hero" comes by for a baguette or some brioche. The good ones give me a knowing smile and often tip well. The "targets" often buy what they came for civilly, but I've gotten good at reading the telltale signs of their nervousness.

The good ones are rare. The good ones are often labeled at vigilantes.

Right before close, Earth Man came in. I thanked him for his wonderful work saving the forest west of the city from those "foul" Kiowa Krusaders. He left sweating bullets.

I expect to serve a lot of humble pie tonight and have a new greeter in my entourage by morning.

For some context, the thought that came to me from this prompt that inspired this story was: Something about "hero" being a status generated by public perception but they were actually all evil

It is known that the ghosts of fallen heroes haunt their killers and cannot move on until the killer is brought to justice. But nobody is willing to ask the baker why so many ghosts are following them around.

"So then why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm trying my best."

Gertrude, is that you?!

When preparing to sell your tower to other prospective wizard buyers, remember to have your unseen servant sweep and mop daily to be ready for showings. Your familiar's fur builds up quicker than you think. While you may not be bothered by, or even prefer dusty corners and that spider by the back entrance that kills pest bugs for you in lieu of rent, others prefer to let their dust build up and choose their own multi-legged tenants.

I was simply enjoying a drink on the beach, admiring the sunset and waving my hands back and forth to make the waves dance to the song I had playing everywhere in my dreamscape all at once when a woman with branches growing everywhere on her body and overflowing with lush green leaves stepped in front of me out of thin air. I frowned at her.

"Will you do something? Anything? For the love of Mother Gaia, I'm so booooored!" she said indignantly with that petulant stomp and balled fists you'd only see better performed on a toddler.

I waved my hand in a dismissive gesture and her leaves quickly faded through the shades of Autumn before they shriveled up and fell in a ring around her feet. She huffed and crossed her arms, her face giving them a run for their money as she glared at me.

I took a sip of my drink and stared back impassively.

Finally relenting, I raised my eyebrow and said, "You're the one that put me here. I'm perfectly content. Bargain well struck in my book."

I materialized a book in my hand which flipped itself open to a page with the words "Bargain with the Fae: Well Struck." I grinned at her indignant "Urrrrgh..." and gnashing teeth. They made a sweetly satisfying sound of wood grinding and creaking like I was back in the forest where this all started.

"You know how to end this, love. Now if you'll excuse me, I was playing with the ocean." I said as I waved my hand and she disappeared in a flurry of dead leaves.

I awoke with a start. Killed in my sleep again, I assumed. Sure enough, there was the wood fae at the foot of my bed. Her back was to me, which wasn't unusual but she was slumped forward instead of leaning back on her hands, which was very unusual. I yawned, preparing to go back to sleep, figuring it was another game that I didn't care to play.

"Cassia." she said, sullenly. I paused.

"Excuse me?" I asked in a deadpan. My expression went flat, not that she could see. That was until she spun around angrily, her hands propping her up as she was nearly sideways on the end of the bed.

"Cassia! That's my name! You're so infuriating!" she said, spinning back around with that last statement and throwing her hands in the air.

"Cassia..." I said, rolling the name over in my mouth. There was a faint shudder to the space around me as I felt something form between us. I smiled gently as she stiffened then looked over her shoulder at me hesitantly.

"It's a lovely name." I said to her before I began rummaging in my bag by the side of the bed. I pulled out a book and flipped to the newest unused page, finally able to write something in it again knowing it would stick.

Bargain with Cassia: Well Struck.

"I'm glad to have met you, Cassia. I always wondered why this inn smelled of cinnamon every morning. You have a mighty gift with time magic. We are going to do great things together!" I said, the excitement growing in my voice.

Cassia looked relieved and even had a shy smile on her face. She quickly tried to school it, however, before saying, "Maybe now you won't be so boring, I hope!" and crossing her arms, her face anything but cross in accompaniment for once.

The Fae that trapped you in a Groundhog Day-style time loop is extremely frustrated that you’re taking advantage of the situation to just sleep all day, every day.

Curse thee, foul lizard! Be warned, brethren! The dragons have turned against our circle and joined the enemy and exposed our plot to thin their ranks!

Counterspell does not require any verbal or material components so a gesture, say the hand of a sized up giant ape flipping off your spell, is sufficient to tell that filthy sorcerer trying to fireball your party where he can stick it while polymorphed. Just a... random example.

What's the most random thing you've got memorised for no apparent reason, that isn't useful in any other context than the one where you learned it?

80% of 1600 is 1280. I can remember no other percentages.

The hat's the only point allowed in these halls.

what is the FUCKING POINT then???

These and memes like it make me want to get an easel and pallet and paint wizards in nature and I likely places.

A clown a day keeps the circus away.

If you can't take the clowns, get out of the circus

Had a dream where I couldn't touch anything striped for a day or I'd die or something. Somewhere along the line I witnessed Pooh and Piglet and later Tigger. Pooh was shirtless, talking to Piglet on the dirt road who had no stripes, just the lines at the neck and leg and arm boundaries. Tigger was just orange with the normal tan maw. He seemed concerned.

Am I the only one that will reflexively type "suite" instead of "sweet" when saying something like "That sounds sweet, dude!"?

"Until they stop pursuing you." the hunter replied, the automatic reply coming out flat.

"They will never stop pursuing me. Please, let us just run and live together for as long as we can." the vampire pleaded.

The hunter stopped, closing a chest with a thump and turned to the vampire.

"We would always be looking over our shoulders. What kind of life would that be? We could trust no one." the hunter said coldly.

"Then we won't live around anyone." the vampire offered.

"That's not the problem. You just don't understand, but that's okay. You lived among them, but you haven't been the hunted before. Once they're all dead, it won't matter anyway. I'll see this through to the end." the hunter explained, then walked out the door.

"No, you don't understand. The end will be when you're gone, and I'm afraid you might be already." the vampire muttered forlornly to the empty doorway.

After a one-month long hunt, the vampire hunter returns home with a body full of hastily treated wounds and dark circles under the eyes. Yet, they are already preparing to embark on another hunt. Standing beside them, a vampire speaks up: "How long do you plan to live this way?"

"When you summon celestial forces to alter axiomatic principles of reality so that the demonic forces of entropy don't encroach upon our reality and disintegrate this quiet little town of ours, you can give me your attitude. Until then, good bloody morning to you too!"

Writing Prompt #3010

"I called you! Like five times! What the hell were you doing?"

"Sleeping. For the first time in days."

"But you do lie."

"No I don't."

"I rest my case."

"What? But I don't lie!"

"You also didn't rest your case."

prompt 425

“The biggest difference between you and me is that you lie and I don’t.”

“I don’t lie.”

“I rest my case.”

This is low key describing the development of my life philosophy over the years. Like, in order and everything. Get out of my head.

"It could be a sign."

Prompt #1170

"It could be dangerous."

"It could be legendary."

If you write a story for the backstory of a character in a ttrpg that is set in an existing franchise, is that considered an OC fanfic?

*Achoo!* "Uri-" *choo!* "Uriel!" *Sniffle*

"Yes (Choo!) my Lord?" Uriel replied, appearing in a puff of smoke.

"Call off *Aaah-* that Me damned *CHOO!* storm at that *muffled sneeze* atheist convention!"

"Thy will (achoo) be done." Uriel bowed.

God sank into his celestial throne with a heavenly sigh of relief.

It is often said that uttering the Lord’s Name in vain is forbidden because it is blasphemy. No, the truth is far more mundane and hilarious than that: Every time His name is uttered in vain, the Lord sneezes.