Reading the forbidden knowledge like bed time stories
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*reblog for a more universal wizard tower*
Edit: it's supposed to say purposeless area,
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oh, you're invincible, you say? *easily vinces you*
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“The pen is mightier than the sword.” Bullshit. Never have I seen someone get killed by a pen, but I have seen people get decapitated by the sword. Also, when you say “The pen is” you’re spelling out “the penis” so you lose twice!
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Imagining Gale and Tara having a very civil, passive aggressive argument about why Tara should not be eating plastic
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*I flop bleeding into the tavern, weak and pathetic. Groaning like the damned*
Tavern patron: "You're half dead! What happened, were you robbed?"
Me wearily: "No. I was . . ."
I pause for a moment considering the possible future impacts that disclosing my new sport "exploding knife ball" to the public, while the idea is still in its' infancy could have on the longevity and adoption of it.
". . . Ambushed. By bears. Twelve of them. Conjoined twins. Full body ones. All of them. They knew martial arts. And had guns. Big ones. The really loud kind. I'm amazed you didn't hear it."
I sigh as I go limp like the wilting flowers upon autumn's dawn
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I, Valthrimbo, dark conjurer of the Ninth Gate, sorcerous master of the Chaos Realm, have suffered many fates worse than imprisonment in the Flayed Pits and much more tortuous than even the soul flames of Arg which burn away even the most resolute mind.
But nothing has been more taxing upon my mind or testing of my will than the AT&T Customer Support Line.
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Has this happened to you? 🤔🤔🤔
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me watching her portal out my life because my orb got looted by four orcs (she got the ick)
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Actually, wizards should be allowed to cast any spells they like
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You’re wanted for tax fraud. I’m wanted for flying a dragon into an archwizard’s tower during his 900th birthday, killing 47. We are not the same.
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AIDE MOI JE NE PEUT PAS ARRÊTER PARLER LA FRANÇAISE. Je connais la goblin de paillettes à fait ce, cet bastard.
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My great tome of magics won't stop obscuring some of the darker arts from me until I commit enough evils to become "morally dubious". I'm thinking of giving the town kids cursed knives or teaching the birds to harmonise a tritone to upset the church, what would you do fellow mystical miscreants?
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