Quick, bring out the fun sized mirror!

A stupid idea that works wasn’t stupid

I made my way through the caverns in silence, glowrod held high. The alchemical substances inside the glass rod cast an eerie, green light all around me, reflecting off the dripping limestone in a manner most unpleasantly reminiscent of the interior of some great beast's bowels. . . which was where I was likely to end up if I played my hand incorrectly.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I rounded the corner and found myself face to face with an enormous black-scaled dragon, perched on an enormous mound of gold coins, fanged teeth dripping with poison, serpentine eyes glaring at me with sinister intent.

"AHHH. . ." it growled, rumbling the caves with the power of its voice. "ANOTHER MORSEL ENTERS THE CAVES OF BRISAGAERETH THE BLACK-WINGED TYRANT. TELL ME, MORTAL. DID YOU REALLY THINK IT WOULD BE THIS SIMPLE TO PLUNDER THE HOARD OF HE WHO BROUGHT DOWN THE WALLS OF THE WHITE CITY?"

"EXCUSE ME!" I shouted in reply. "If THIS is how you're going to treat me, I'm going to leave and sell my services to the next client!"

The dragon's eyes widened in surprise. "OH!" it said. "MY DEEPEST APOLOGIES, MORSEL. . . ahem. I mean. . . mortal. You would be the broker, then?"

"I would be, indeed." Reaching into my cloak pocket, I pulled out a comically large rectangle of pasteboard, embossed in gold, enchanted with glowing calligraphy:

​

>Whymper, Strunk, and Blackhammer
>
>Adventurer Brokering Agency.
>
>Est. year 504 of the Fifth Age of Man.

​

The dragon took it in his claws: the thing looked comically tiny in his claws, and he squinted to read the text. "Ah, yes," he rumbled. "You come highly recommended. Vercingetorix used your services last year."

"I remember. Mortenwrath the Red." Five adventuring parties had met their ends down Mortenwrath's gullet. The sixth had become rich beyond imagination and immediately retired from the adventuring life: at least four of them by necessity, due to lost limbs (and in at least one case, blindness). "Do you have a similar need?"

"Ebonflack the Swamp Wyrm," Brisagaereth snarled. "An uppity little thing that thinks to take my place as Tyrant of the Black Dragons. I could take him on, but he's gotten ahold of a Blade of Dragonslaying. Attached it to his damn tail, of all things. It looks ridiculous, but I still don't dare fight him while he has it."

"Ah." I took out my notepad and made a note: In possession of Blade of Dragonslaying. Offer to adventurers as incentive for completing contract. "Is there anything else you can tell me about Ebonflack?"

"He lives in the Brilliant Swamps. Protects his lair with illusion magics. Seems to have allied himself with a swamp hag coven and a pack of lizardmen."

Brilliant Swamps. Illusion Magic. Adds - Swamp Hags, Lizardmen. "What can you tell me about his horde? Any particular magical items or artifacts that might be of interest?"

"Well, there's that Blade of Dragonslaying," Brisagaereth rumbled. "Oh, and I heard he's gotten ahold of an Obsidian Orb. Probably how he's managed to stay out of my attention for long enough to grow this big. The usual magic wands and rings. And of course, there's the gold. . ." The huge black dragon licked his lips hungrily at the thought of the gold.

"Ah. As a reminder, the terms of the contract state that the adventurers who carry it out lay claim to the treasure held within, aside from select magic items or artifacts which we may lay claim to as our finder's fee." I jotted down a note: Obsidian Orb: Scrying Focus. Consult Client List. "I believe that brings us to the final step of our process." I unrolled a huge scroll of parchment and touched my Actuary's Quill to its surface.

Brisagaereth looked on in interest as the magic quill quickly inscribed the terms of the contract onto the parchment: terms of payment, arbitration agreements, penalties for breaking the terms, non-competition agreements. . . "Wait one moment," he snarled. "This last portion here. You can't be serious."

Ah yes. The Geas of Binding. "I am," I said. "In order to maintain our reputation among the adventuring community, I must ask you to submit to a Geas of Binding. Until the contract is completed, you may not in any way confront or interfere with the actions of the target."

Brisagaereth snarled at that. "This is absurd! You mean I need to sit back in my lair and watch that little turd preen around and gather allies? He'll think I'm AFRAID of him!"

"It is necessary. After all," I smiled dangerously, "Otherwise, you could just swoop in at the last moment, kill our adventuring party, and make off with all of Ebonflack's possessions yourself, couldn't you?"

From the dragon's flinch and sheepish expression, that was exactly what he'd had in mind. "I would like to remind you that we are one of the oldest, most respected, and most powerful adventuring guilds in the realm. We didn't get there by having a reputation for screwing over our adventurers. Besides," I said, smiling disarmingly, "there's no way that any adventuring party can completely loot a dragon's lair in one go. There will be plenty of gold left behind for enterprising dragons to claim after they have left."

Brisagaereth nodded begrudgingly at that and placed his claw against the parchment. The scroll glowed brightly, sending motes of magical energy into his body as the Geas bound him to the contract. "Thank you," I said. I touched the Rod of Duplication to the scroll, creating an exact (if non-magical) copy. "Your copy of the contract. A mage will be in touch with you once the contract is confirmed completed."

The dragon snarled at that, but waved his claw towards the entrance of the cave. I made my way back through the dank, damp caverns and back to the surface.

It was raining. "Oh, bloody heavens," I growled, pulling the hood of my cloak over my curling ram-like horns. "This is all I need."

My wagon was where I had left it, my mule placidly cropping the grass near where I'd left him fettered and tied to a tree. I stowed the scroll under the seat and picked up my Sending Stone, tapping the runes for the Whitecastle office:

>!B. has outbid E. and signed contract. Do not let E. sign any contracts or know they have been targeted until E's Negotiator is safely clear. Will transmit terms shortly.!<

&#x200B;

Epilogue:

&#x200B;

>DRAGONSLAYERS NEEDED
>
>Anonymous Client requires adventurers to slay black dragon in the Brilliant Swamps. Swamp Hags and Lizardfolk may be a factor. Contractors may keep all treasure found within (includes Sword of Dragonslaying), with exception of Obsidian Orb of Scrying (cash bonus for retrieving said item intact). Contact local Whymper, Strunk, and Blackhammer office for further details.

Perfect setup and ending line, lol

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Oh dear XD

Maybe they did, but that ain't going to be evident right away, lol

T'is a good influence

oh gosh the sass and humor in this one killed me XD

"Get Fucked""

The angel looked at me incredulously, before stammering out "I'm sorry?" Its voice was like a light tinkling bell coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once, truly beautiful and terrifying. It had many eyes and several wings, and honestly was frightful to look upon, but I glared at it with all the animosity I could muster.

I felt like a trembling mouse before a tiger.

"You heard me, shitbag, go get fucked in the ass, or cloaca, whatever it is you shit from, like I'm sure you fuckers enjoy"

Its color changed, and I knew I hit on something there, but that wasn't the reason I was cursing out the divine being.

"I'm not sure you heard me, I am here to carry you forth to a better pl-"

"I know why you're here," I interrupted, "and I don't want it. I'd rather sit here in the muck and mire with the 'sinners'. My people. You inhuman, unnatural, poor excuse for a sapient, you have no clue. Go fuck yourself and tell your friends about me, too."

I glared at it, and its many eyes stared, back, unblinking. It slowly raised a marble tablet and, maintaining eye contact, proceeded to scratch a long line with some sort of wing/arm thing. They don't precisely have a topology which lends itself well for description. When the angel was done, I felt something cold in my guts, and I knew that I'd be left alone again on Earth 7 for at least another 50 years.

In a terrifying burst of heavenly light and a loud thwip, the being disappeared, and I was left, again, in the dark disease and muck of this horrific world.

I breathed out a ragged breath - the temptation for a better life was always there. Every 50 years, I would get a chance to go to a better earth. To be among those, who, I admit, were like me. I remember my family, my parents, my brothers. I'll admit, I cried a little.

But no, I had no time to self pity. I had work to do.

Outside my office, fire and brimstone lit the hallways, through broken windows. Ash littered the floors and caked the walls, floating on eddies and currents of alternatively too hot and too cold drafts of wind. Demons rampaged the streets of melted tar, cackling and spitting bile as they passed by. People lined the floor, crying, wailing, dirty and diseased, with broken bones, painful cysts, and blood coming out of their ears and eyes, fingernails torn off from their wretched attempts at whatever salvation they thought they could muster.

I looked at all the pain, all the suffering. These people surely deserved it, after all, a god had made this decision, and who was I to question the all-knowing? Still, I couldn't leave this world behind - instead, I left my office, and changed into my scrubs.

I cannot deny Pratchett's influence.

It was tentative in my eyes, this was him saying it officially like "for the official records"

The writing isn't great but the concept is a good one.

Some have suggested...like who?

Sounds like a character out of discworld

Hello, My name is Doreen Hithers,

My Grandson has helped me set this question and answer writing forum so you can all ask about my husbands Space death laser, I'm not very technological so I might get some terms wrong but I will try my best.

I wont have time to answer all the questions, but my Grandson will pick some out for me and help me type it in.

Q: Where did the space laser come from?

A: My husband (bless him) was working on it as part of a Russian cold war effort, from what he has told me they where all issued activation codes incase Russia fell and where told to use them.

Q: How many people have codes?

A: My Husband (Пётр-Peter) had a little group, they would catch up every week or so and have a drink and reminisce about old times, sadly time makes fools of us all and the group is just down to himself and Дмитрий-Dmitriy

Edit 1: Roy (Doreens Grandson) here, she had to go to bridge game and will be back in a couple hours-keep them questions coming, please keep the troll comments about it being 'our laser comrade' to a min please.

Edit 2: she is back!

Q: How did the broadcast reach a global audience?

A: Covert operators where sent to place secret relay towers/ transmitters across the globe, most should still be operating.

Edit 3: Roy here, I've been able to find the delay codes with Grandad, but he doesn't remember where he put the deactivation codes, it also looks like they need help with TV remote as its been stuck and wont volume up and down (i know this isn't relevant to the whole 'laser thing' but they wanted me to ask.

Q: Why isnt Peter doing the AMA if its his laser

A: Peter is having a rest , this thing has stressed him out a lot, we don't want his blood pressure going to high or its another trip to the Dr's

Q : Does Dmitrity have the codes?

A: Roy here, he is out at the local duck pond with the retirement home, he said he has written down the code but each time Try to facetime him/get a picture to read it off, i just get pictures of ducks or a close up of his face - I'm working on it! Edit- thanks for the awards!

Edit 4: Roy here, thanks to all who sent links about the TV remote, I fixed it!

Edit 5: Roy here, Ok Grandma is tired and wants to take a break and it sounds like some helicopters just landed out side and lots of people in black suits are getting out, I will keep an eye on the questions and if any jump out I'll ask them and post the answer.

Thank you all for the awards and upvotes-who knew this would be my most upvoted comment and we even went to the front page!

I may have to check that out.

This has a lot of potential.

I could see it being kind of like the Fred, the Vampire Accountant Series by Drew Hayes.

It might be niche but I really like stories which go into the logistical issues of magic.

Bruh the judgement had already been passed at that point.

The angel said "i'm sorry..." and all way before that, and Alex even said "next time just send an email" or something.

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This was great. I’d read the book of this.

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Yup

Most mages have their classroom in a grandiose hall or a auditorium.

"Teacher..." Neima sheepishly looked at the mage beside her. Under a tree wasn't exactly a good place for teaching. So the gazes bothered Neima a bit.

But with a wave of his hand he spoke,

"Ignore those pretentious pricks. Now use silverware like a spoon for a catalyst and..."

Neima watched for a third time as the magic activated. She scribbled in her notes as the mage walked to the side and sat down on a chair.

"Now tell me despite the lack of Catalyst Crystal why did the magic activated."

Neima scratched her head for a proper answer. The mage waited for her to come to a conclusion.

"You used silver spoon as a catalyst."

"Yes. But why? What's my reasoning behind this?"

Neima once again scratched her head and looked back at her previous note and a word came to her attention,

"Mana Conductivity."

The mage grinned.

"Correct! Like the Catalyst Crystal, Silver has high enough resistance and conductive power to syphon Mana. But if you don't have silver what can you use instead?"

Neima was getting a bit scared honestly. Today he used simple Iron and a copper coin as a catalyst. Now silver yet there are more things that can conduct Mana.

Seeing her puzzling look the mage answered,

"Salt water."

The answer baffled Neima.

"We will end the experiment here today. Review what you learned. Next class we will learn effect of Mana in lower temperature."

Neima quickly noted down all the questions for homework. The mage got up and started to leave. Unlike usual Neima followed,

"You have something you wanna ask?"

"Teacher...why do you do these?"

The mage chuckled.

"Everyone ask me that sooner or later."

He shook his head as he answered,

"My answer is the same as always Neima. My goal is to make Magic available for all. Just like how my teacher intended."

"Did she really come up with all these?"

"Yes actually. She taught me all those concepts. Conductivity, Resistance, Super Conductivity and so on."

The mage sighed.

"Alas, the grand council never took her hypothesis seriously. Can't blame them though."

"Why not?"

"Well even to this day I'm not sure what she meant by Charges or Magnetic Wave. But I'm sure I can figure it out one day."

The mage said with confidence. He was her greatest student. He was also the only student but he skipped past that part.

The mage still remember how she spoke of a power. A power so great that would revolutionize the world. With that power no child will die because of cold. No house will be without light.

Yet no matter what he can't for the life of him figure out how to create that power.

She spent her life to bring it to fruition. And as her successor he must do it too.

Neima showed promise. Maybe if he fails he could pass her masters notes to her.

For everyone his master was a mad and disgraced mage. But he knew better.

"Do you wanna a hear a story?" the mage suddenly chimed to Neima.

"Uhh... Sure."

The mage smiled,

"This is a story my teacher often used to tell me."

The mage remeberd fondly as he spoke out,

"It's about a man who invented greatest power that changed the world."

Neima looked interested,

"Is this a real story?"

"Well according my teacher it's just a story from her home."

The mage turned towards her,

"She named me after man in this story."

Neima could see the look of pride and fondness in his eyes.

With a cough he started the tale,

"This is the story of Edison and how invented the power of Electricity."

Had the idea to play a warforged pally or fighter that is just the skeleton great great grandfather of another party member. And just like not understand all the new things the world has been up too like an old foggy would.

Back in my day poisen outright killed you!

OK grandpa stop