The Conjurer of Cheap Tricks – Part 1

Our wizard has rejoined us, To celebrate his presence, we’re going to post some classic D&D fiction, illustrated by the subject himself.

 For your full multi-media experience, we provide accompanying music:

“The swirling blizzard howled through the darkness, tearing its way across the blasted cliff face and driving another torrent of razor sharp ice into the ragged figure that dragged itself over the mountainside. Every fibre of the traveller’s muscles ached with a pain that would have crippled a lesser man, constantly demanding he cease his exertions, that he retreat in the face of his impossible challenge, that he surrender to the sweet embrace of death. But he toiled ever onwards. The light in the sky rose, faded to night, and rose again as a new day dawned, but still he continued his labours, fearless and unwavering. His journey had been both long and arduous, filled with perils beyond counting and adversaries of the harshest nature, but he had endured, driven forward by his limitless faith in his great adventure. At last, as he traversed one last set of jagged rocks and saw his goal before him, as though in a dream.  Reaching out with frost bitten hands, he staggered towards a small shack nestled in the rocks, pushed open its ancient wooden door, and tumbled inside.
“No, don’t worry about it, just come in,” said a voice “I love it when people don’t bother to knock…” muttered Tandalf as he sat by the fireside, stroking his cat.
The snow covered adventurer looked up to see a magnificent wizard reclining in his chair, his glorious rainbow robes trailing down to the ground. The shack was considerably bigger on the inside than the outside, and the heat that rose from the fireside stung his frozen face. He was well beyond being troubled by such things. He dragged himself to his feet, his sword and armour clattering against his back, and attempted to wipe himself down.
“You are Tandalf the Wizard, Conjurer of Cheap Tricks, are you not?” the travelling adventurer asked.
The wizard shrugged and made a non-committal noise. He began searching inside his robes for something.
“I am the greatest hero of my age. I have come to seek your council, for aid in my quest to defy the darknesses of the universe and bring justice and liberty to all the land,” the traveller announced.
Tandalf ignored him, and continued to search. At last, he pulled a long smoking pipe from inside of the robes and admired it with rapt attention.
The adventurer sighed impatiently, and began to observe the heaps of magical detritus that cluttered the shelves around them as he waited. “I come seeking knowledge of the Draconic Crystal Skull,” he continued eventually.
Tandalf froze, and for a moment, a look of fear passed across his face. Eventually, he shook his head. “I’m going to need a bigger pipe…” he said to himself, laying the smaller item on the mantelpiece and retrieving an immense white ivory pipe from beneath his chair. “Real unicorn horn,” he said to the adventurer as he hefted it to his lips. “Good shit.” 

To Be Continued…

tandalf_by_olivertandy-d5yvme0

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