Little did poor Joey know this was a difficulty hack

Lesvwan... Ldsbans... Gorls....

Lesbibi.... Lesaben... Lesbeab

You'd have to pay the man to get him to write out a wish that long

Numbers can help a lot of things. Numbers built castles and kingdoms, brought prosperity to small towns and dictated markets all over the world. Numbers wage war and build garrisons and stock them with soldiers like sardines and lemmings, willing to throw themselves away in the blink of an eye for their kings and queens and wives and kids. Numbers dictate the fabric of the universe, and grant knowledge and magic and rot and break all living things into dust, and dust into nothing at all. Numbers are truly some of the most powerful things in this world and beyond it.

But numbers can't solve everything.

As fire crackles in her hands and lightning shoots from her fingertips, the soldiers around her, crowding her like children with their sticks and stones falter for just a moment.

And a moment was all she needed.

Ppreciate it <3

"Ohhhohohoh, no. No no no no no no no. The FIRST time was a fucking prophecy. NOW you just wanna play it safe cause 'Uhhh well she saved the world that one time so like she'll do it again right'. Well guess what douchebag! I'm thirty-six, I have a limp from getting my leg chewed on by a FUCKING DRAGON! I have nightmares about all the people I killed, I'm pretty sure I'm going blind in one eye from some kind of curse a wizard cast on me, and I get suicide cults hurling themselves at my door every like two weeks! I did the whole chosen one thing when I was a fucking teenager, and I am NOT about to fall for that one again! Good day sirs!"

thud

Over the years we've perfected the art of dragon defense. Hide archwizards up in towers for them to cast bolts of lightning or jagged icicles or monstrous infernos onto the creatures as they fly in towards the kingdom. We mount gigantic ballistas outside the castle gates that shoot bolts the size of buildings as a warning to them. We train platoons of soldiers and teach them magic to defend themselves.

But sometimes they get through anyways, and break kingdoms like loose dirt under their talons.

Sometimes they abduct entire families for ransom, or for their hoard, or simply because they can. Sometimes they like to show us that they could still crush us if they really wanted to.

And sometimes? Sometimes a knight has to kill a dragon the old-fashioned way.

With sword and shield in hand, and little else to protect him in this crumbling castle, he rolls out of the way of yet another falling boulder and charges towards the wounded beast, pinned under a rock of his own, spewing gouts of flame in a feeble attempt to keep the man at bay. A tale as old as time.

///

It's nice to actually be writing something, even if I'm not happy with it. Thanks for commenting <3

Every race has its own habits for exacting revenge. Humans tend to do it quickly, messily, violently - and oftentimes they lose themselves in the aftermath. Theirs is a passionate rage, big and bright and all-consuming, but short in the grand scheme of things.

Dwarves don't really take revenge at all. They just hold grudges like poison in their bodies, use it to immunize themselves and driving them further still in their passions. It takes a lot for a dwarf's rage to boil over, and even when it does, it's by comparison rather plain. They're blunt about it, at least.

Dragonborns are easy to incite to anger most of the time, and while their anger flares easily, it dies just as soon - after razing a building or two or even just a good old-fashioned brawl all is forgiven. Water under the bridge, so long as you don't repeat your mistake.

But elves? Elves are insidious. You wouldn't know if you pissed one off unless you were very clearly trying to do so, and even then they won't let you know it gets to them. But from that moment on, you've made a terrible, terrible enemy. Elves live a long time, and are willing to invest boundless time and energy to their plots. Cities turn to dust, kingdoms crumble because of an elf's thirst for vengeance. You and everyone you've ever known will understand what you've done, but not because the elf told you. You'll agonize over what happens to you, why it might be, until you figure it out yourself. Most people never do - it really is just a blink to an elf, the time it takes to ruin someone's life from birth to death. So for your own sake, carry yourself with respect in front of them.

Bleh, disappointed with the last part. But I'm writing at all, so hey, what can ya do. Happy birfday

To say the camp shook at the roar would be to downplay its magnitude. The entire forest shook from the thundering call of a dragon, the most grizzled among us being the first to duck into holes and bushes. It was a useless action: if a dragon were really looking for us, no castle, any hundreds of miles of soldiers wouldn't stop it, let alone a mere hole in the ground, a pitiful shadow under a plant. But still we all scrambled for safety in any form we could get it, desperate to cling onto anything, even if it was just dust in the wind.

And soon after we felt the rushing, booming waves of air left by its wings as it rocketed overhead, branches breaking and shrubs uprooting from the sheer force of its wingbeats. There were those insane enough to study these primeval creatures, that might be able to tell us what kind it was simply by hearing it, but any of those psychos wouldn't have lasted two days into our months long trek.

Only when we were absolutely sure it had passed, waiting for even the leaves rustling in the wind to still, did even one of us stand up, slowly signaling the rest of the camp that it was okay to resume. The camp, of course, was gone. You couldn't even tell it existed in the first place - our tarps and tents and fire likely weren't even in the forest anymore. That's why everything we wanted to keep, we kept bolted down, hastily picking up everything we could before continuing.

It wasn't much further now. We'd gone from the edge of the world, caked in ruin and choked by dust, for this one journey. Just a few more days. Just a leap away from safety.