Nestor Pinkly was not much for regret, nor for thinking ahead, but if he had thought ahead when attempting to save the prisoners trapped in the coffins, he might almost have regretted it, because his instinctual plan involved two spells that he had never used before, and the power involved in casting them might literally kill him.
But when it came to helping others, Nestor Pinkly did not think, he did. Continue reading “Nestor the Incomparable, Part Three”
Fifty years ago, a dozen gnomes left their homes in the dwarven nation of Barlagtelen, having grown tired of their neighbors disrespecting their careers as entertainers. They made their way to the neighboring woods of the Dol elves, who for a long time hated dwarves and were considered their opposite. The idea of a variety theater troupe was more palatable here, but they were unimpressed by the gnomes’ complete lack of magic in any of their shows.
These gnomes were a statistical impossibility, for it is just as uncommon for gnomes to lack magic as it is for dwarves to possess it, and yet there was not an ounce of magical blood among the twelve. But they didn’t allow this to deter them; what they lacked in arcana they made up for with talent, passion, and showmanship. Whether it be dancing, singing, acting, or acrobatics, these gnomes did it, and they did it well. Continue reading “Nestor the Incomparable, Part Two”
“And that,” Nestor Pinkly said, “is why friendship and joy are the most valuable resources even in a capitalist economy.”
“I think you misunderstood,” the golem replied. “I said gold is the most important thing to me because my body is actually made of it.”
“That was a lovely speech, though,” the golem’s boyfriend added. “Even if it did last a quarter of an hour. So, thank you for that.”
“My pleasure!” Nestor said, saluting the pair. “I hope you two have a wonderful day.”
“Can we get to the bank now, Nestor?” Karessa Plunderton asked. “People are staring.” Continue reading “Nestor the Incomparable, Part One”
Aftermaj storms were a matter of serious concern in Skymoore, but they were rarely so disastrous as they could be. Sure, things blew in the wind, caught fire, and collapsed, but the random acts of magic – disappearing floor, randomly-summoned spirits, people suddenly existing in several places simultaneously – only affected those who weren’t careful. Because, you see, magic had a way of respecting boundaries both natural and constructed. Continue reading “Bad Faith, Part Nine”
Three-hundred years ago, a man called Pulldrid the Riser lifted a town called Seamoore into the sky using a thing called magic. The town was thereafter called Skymoore. It’s still there to this day and, except for one unicorn, everyone who lives in the floating city is pretty pleased with their elevation. They are so pleased with it that they gave Pulldrid that cool title and honor the event with a holiday called Severance Day. Continue reading “Severance Day”