The party had experienced its fair share of setbacks, but Bridget had never seen an adventure go to hell so quickly. In hindsight, they had bitten off more than they could chew in trying to infiltrate the lair of a dragon.

First, Kaz couldn't resist pulling at a bejeweled scepter and set off a cascade of gold coins that woke the dragon from its slumber. Then Jorg immediately raised his enormous battleaxe and attacked, only to get swept into the wall by its tail and croak on the spot. The only silver lining was that the dragon didn't seem inclined to attack the rest of them, pacing across the lair and growling under its breath as it was. If anything it seemed... panicked.

Elein the Druidess looked up at the dragon thoughtfully. "I don't think it wants to fight us." She took a step toward it, and before Bridget's disbelieving eyes, the enormous creature recoiled. "I'm casting Commune."

"Don't waste a spell trying to communicate with the beast!" Kaz sputtered, his gaze flicking between the dragon and the exit, a throwing dagger in his trembling hand. "We should get out of here while we can."

"Shut up. It's your greed that got us into this mess in the first place." Bridget took a deep breath and nodded. "Do it, Elein."

Elein raised her staff, a string of elven flowing melodiously from her lips. All at once, the dragon's growls turned into a frantic, girlish voice.

"So squishy, why did the human have to be so squishy," she blabbered. "Am I in trouble? Stupid Nedreya, of course you are! You'll be hounded by dragon-hunters to the ends of the world, all because you freaked out instead of staying calm like mother taught you!"

The party exchanged wide-eyed looks.

"Noble Nedreya," Elein began.

"Aargh! You scared me. Calm down, calm down. Don't want to accidentally squish more of them." The dragoness took a deep breath that ruffled Elein's long hair. "You understand me?"

"All of us do." The druidess paused for a moment. "Am I to understand that you wish us no harm?"

"Why would I wish harm upon perfect strangers? You simply scared the stuffing out of me!" Tears pooled in Nedreya's enormous golden eyes. "Why would you do that? Why barge into my home and aim your sharp weapons at me?"

Elein shifted guiltily, opening her mouth, only to close it again and look at the others for guidance. Kaz just shrugged.

"We can talk about that later," Bridget hedged. Approaching Jorg's corpse, she laid her hand on his forehead. "His soul hasn't gone far. I should be able to recall it."

"T-the human's going to be all right?" Nedreya asked, leaning closer.

"If I work quickly. A moment of silence if you will."

"Yes, of course! I'll be quiet as a hare in its lair. Ooh, it rhymed!" The dragoness winced. "Sorry, you asked for silence. Please perform your magic. I'll watch quietly. Um, sorry again."

Bridget exhaled slowly and closed her eyes. The dragoness's agitated babble faded away, as did the rest of the world, as she briefly touched the unfathomable being of her god. Cracking open her eyes an indeterminate time later, she saw that Jorg's broken bones were knitting, and life was returning to his glassy eyes.

"He's returning," she said, sitting back wearily. "You two, please hold him down before—"

Jorg's head jerked up, his gaze flicking around wildly, then centering upon the dragoness who was watching the resurrection with bated breath. "Foul dragon!" he cried, bolting to his feet. "To arms, my friends!" With a roar, he hefted his axe and leapt at the dragoness.

"Jorg, don't!" Elein cried, stretching her hand toward him.

"D-don't point that thing at me!" Nedreya squeaked, falling back on her haunches.

"The beast fears me!" Jorg laughed, raising his axe for an overhead blow.

"Eeek!" Closing her eyes, Nedreya blindly stomped her clawed foot as a delicate lady would at a cockroach.

There was a wet crunch, then sudden silence. The dragoness raised her bloodied foot and stared. "Not again! Why does this keep happening? Ugh, I've got human all over me! Get it off, get it off!" She shook her foot, spraying blood and gore over the party.

"Goddammit," Bridget muttered, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

Dating a DID system be like

Rick and morty secret lore?

Fantastic work! And also I assume the bard rolled a 20 lol

"Oh by George, he's dead. He's dead, isn't he? Oh, I killed him, oh Bant and Lung, I'm a killer. Oh, please, what do I do?"

"Nyugodt," Sinter called, gently strumming his mandolin. I could see the arcane energy reach out to calm the beast. It's breath slowed and it's muscles relaxed. Then it began sobbing.

"What are we looking at?" I asked Dorcas. She was a cleric, our healer. And right then, she was handling Kingsley's idiot corpse. The moron had rushed in, shouting, at the poor beast. It had tried to scramble up the wall and escape, but he caught its tail with his axe. Looked like a reflexive swipe that sent him flying across the cavern.

"Don't think there's an unbroken bone in his body. If I try to bring him back now, he'll be in pain, which he deserves, but he'll also probably die again, which makes it a waste. We had a plan, what was he doing?"

"No idea," I replied, knowing exactly what he was doing: being as big a prick as usual. "So we cart him back to the temple."

"You carrying him to the cart?"

"Hey, Sinter, you wanna—Oh COME ON! Where are your pants?"

This is a really awesome concept!

MOAR, please ?

I don’t remember much of my life. I stood at a sidewalk in front of someone’s house. How did I get here? A limo pulled up to the curb. The door opened. Inside were three women in football jerseys. They also had that black paint on their faces. What’s weird was that no one held open the door. “Come in”, the blonde one said to me. I stepped in because I might as well. I sat next to a brunette, and the vehicle moved. The other two sat on seats facing each other. A TV attached to the ceiling was just behind the front seats. It displayed a football game. “So, you see the game last night?”, asked the brunette. “No”, I said. “It was good.” “Who’s your team?”, asked the redhead. “I don’t have one.” “Ah, I see what you’re doing”, said the blonde, “You’re scared that you have a team we don’t like.”
The brunette looked at me and said, “Y’know, I have to ask, why do guys love riding on this?” “I dunno”, I said. “It’s for us women”, said the blonde, “Ghost Limo has the best ghost girls.” “You all are ghosts?”, I asked. “Yeah”, said the redhead. They all looked to the screen. “Oh, fumble!”, shouted the blonde.
The limo stopped. I looked outside to see a giant skyscraper in this suburbia. The door opened automatically. I got out and said, “Thank you.” The door shut, and the limo was off. I heard a loud voice on a loudspeaker. “Welcome to the afterlife. Step in to get started.”

Thank you!!

Will continue when time allows

Ah yes. I bow in your weebness XD

Not long enough.

My Wife Was A Magical girl But She Died In An Accident And My Daughter Who Is Turning 14 Is Becoming A Magical Girl Too? Story Of Military Father And Magical Girl, Quest To Become World's Best!

As I was sitting in my recliner, I was stunned. Sunlight slanted through the console but the blinking cursor was too tempting to my curious mind. My heart pounded, a distinct 'ping' sound came from my phone (always within reach) and I immediately turned the notifications to silent. This was beyond the cellular and internet ramifications I had ever entertained within my programming career. Was I hallucinating? Sleeping? I threw the phone to the carpeted floor, it careened off the floor, hit the couch and settled happily into the plush carpet. All seen through a veneer of a console. I was astonished and ...excited. I didn't want to waste this opportunity. It 'COULD BE REAL' was the only tangible thought. I grabbed on to that idea like a man drowning. I quickly blinked out 'K.E.Y.B.O.A.R.D' and a transparent keyboard (including a 10 key number pad) appeared where my hands were shaking. I typed:

> ls

Body

Mind

Spirit

Family

Work

Recreation

Admin

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

>

Invalid Syntax
Line 1: enable godmode
        ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

You already are.

Everyone has a half million bad words in them, it's best to get them out as quickly as you can... and it looks like you might already be close to running out.

My wife was a magical girl, and my daughter just turned 14. I will train her to be the best magical girl ever

Title ^

We don't even know what the "sacrifice" is. Fire may be going on an adventure.

This is on every post, you’re all good

With any luck, she will become a dragon afterward.

And with time, centuries or more, learn some manners.

"MISTER ANDERSON"

Just then pop a man with a lion's head appeared. "There he is. What a man. Listen, Reaper, I got him from here."

"Easy, Erra," Saint Peter said as he laid a hand on the man's bare chest. "This one's already been claimed."

"What? By you? No way. I haven't had one in..." he started counting on his fingers and we all waited until pop an ebony (the wood, not just the color) woman in a diaphanous gown and matching insect wings appeared and immediately began massaging my shoulders. The Saint averted his eyes and started mumbling something in Latin.

"Wait," I said after a moment. "Why are you mumbling in Latin? Wouldn't it be Aramaic?"

"Oh, a lot of church folk came in speaking Latin, so it's what I've gotten most used to. More time dead than alive, after all."

The valkyrie chuckled at that, then went back to sharpening her blade and whistling.

The Grim Reaper looked up from his paperwork, "Ok, so Erra, you can leave. Your claims only apply if he died in Mesopotamia, or no one else has a claim."

"Is Saint Paul not between two rivers, the Mississippi and Saint Croix?" The lion man asked. "What does Mesopotamia mean, after all?"

"Let me look this up," the Reaper said, clearly annoyed.

The woman's hands started to moved down my chest until a blade was suddenly against her throat.

"He certainly isn't yours, Ana. Just look at his back." The valkyrie was referencing my shoulder tattoo of Mjolnir. Spring break of 2012 had more than a few bad decisions.

Ana rolled her eyes, spun me round, and planted a kiss on my. I felt roots reaching into my lungs (and was shocked to find I still had lungs) before she retracted them and pulled away.

The valkyrie lopped her head off, but the plant matter quickly adjusted to reattach it.

"Valkyrie, go home," Reaper said without looking up.

"But the mark?"

"It's the Marvel rendition, not the traditional."

"So he's a moron. Most of our men are."

"He is a moron, but a drunken tattoo doesn't give you claim."

She stomped off, grumbling to herself in what I assume was old Norse.

"Ana, you can leave, too. I'm not clear why you even came."

"Oh, I just saw he was getting a lot of attention," said with a sly grin. "Did you want some, Slim?"

He ignored her, and soon after, she disappeared, just as a mass of sharp teeth, cancerous flesh, and eyes bubbled up from the floor.

"Squigoloth? What are you doing here?" The Saint asked as he and Erra stepped back.

The response was a sound like a thousand bees scraping their fingernails on chalkboards, echoing up from the deepest mineshaft ever imagined.

"Huh, Squiggy makes a good point. Hey bud, you ever sell your soul? Would sort this mess right out."

"Not that I remember," I laughed.

"Are you sure?" Erra asked, while reaching a hand toward me.

"Yeah, I'm—" I suddenly flashed back to that Thursday night, April something, 2012. Like I said, bad decisions.

"You did get to hook up with Sylvia Berkowicz."

"Ok, but I just said I'd sell my soul to hook up with her. I didn't say to who."

There was a roar of primordial oceans being drained into a massive cavern lit by flowing magma.

"No," Saint Peter said, "He's right. He didn't clarify, and no one actually acted to increase his chances. The deal was out there, but none of you claimed it."

"Technically," Grim said, standing and somehow smiling despite only being a skeleton. "Technically, Sylvia facilitated the hook up. She let him sleep with her." He lifted the massive book, pointing at a line. "Here we are. So in a sense, he sold his soul to her. So we just send him wherever she is."

There was a solid ten seconds of silence.

Finally, Erra spoke up. "And where is she?"

Reaper frowned and slumped back in his chair. "Alive."

"So... Whose purgatory is he waiting in?" Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just... Just give me a moment, guys. I'll figure it out. I just need a short break."

pop A small lizard man in a tailored suit appeared and started measuring my limbs.

"Hold on, Kurt," Erra said, resting a gentle hand on the lizard man's shoulder. "There's some paperwork to sort on this one. We may be here a while."

I'm intrigued!

README is usually the first file you open in a package, and people have been using them since before Git. So yeah, it was meant to get attention.

https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/119n7g6/wpyoure_a_software_engineer_who_is_a/j9oy97x/

https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/119n7g6/wpyoure_a_software_engineer_who_is_a/j9oy97x/

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