Pete the Practical's Planate Path
The worst thing about this new 'explosion' arrangement was it had also obliterated my letter box. So now I couldn't get all the ingredients sent to me by mail order like I had in the past, for how would they know where to send them? ('Omric's Scorched Bit of Land' simply would not do as a postal address, and chances are there would already be another Omric somewhere who had already scorched some land and my stuff would all end up there anyway, and who knows if the second Omric was even magical!)
As you can see, at this point I was at the height of my intellectual powers. My mind felt like it was on fire.
No,
wait,
my mind actually was on fire. "Aaaaargh!" I cried as I threw the charred remains of my hat and hair on the ground (both of which had grown to considerable length in the past three years!) To stop the strange tingling sensation going on on top of my scalp, which some people apparently refer to as 'pain', I stood on my head in the snow for a few minutes.
A few minutes passed.
I passed out.
THUD! The thud of a wizard falling to the ground from a headstanding position woke me from my slumber.
"Right!" I determined determinately. "Time to got get those ingredients!"
Conveniently the explosion had left 10% of my accumulated ingredients unharmed, and I quickly gathered them up and stuffed them in the pockets of my robe. As well as being explosion proof, the potion book could be folded in half 9 times (only magic paper can be folded this many times, you know) so I folded it up and stuffed it down inside my sock.
I took a moment to survey the scene before me. I vaguely remembered taking a path to Myron's place all those years ago, a path which wove up along a steep mountain face, treacherously thin in places, and I did recall at that point a strange moment when I thought I saw a couple of trolls eying me from beneath an overhang as I walked up, but you know how memories are. Probably just large rocks (the trolls, not the memories. Though maybe trolls' memories are rocks?)
"Aha! There it is!" The only path in sight wove away from me and down the mountain face. It looked vaguely familiar, and I could see a few large rocks beneath an overhang a wee way down the path.
I strode confidently down the path.
It was refreshing, actually, this walking business. I found myself enjoying the activity, and although it was in no way a substitute for hours spent alone in a freezing cottage making potions which require elaborate incantations often in multiple languages to be said over them (and even in some cases the aforementioned languages only work if you say them in the right accent, like 'Makes Yuck Food Yummy' which for some reason only accepts Canadian French) I did understand how some people could consider this a viable recreational activity. I wondered, did Myron enjoyed walking, before he died? It wasn't likely, considering Potion 84, 'Teleport', which was actually a real pain to test, 'cos obviously I didn't want to test it on myself, so I just used to tip it on field mice and watch them disappear. However it was hard to know if they had in fact successfully teleported anywhere, given the fact that Potion 37 'Disappear' also produced the same result and the mice I had teleported never returned to fill out the post-experiment questionnaire or attend any of the focus groups.
As you can see, at this point my brain was sharper than an Echidna with a haircut and a Ph.D in Physics.
THUD! The thud of a wizard getting smacked on the head with a troll's club quickly dulled my sense of intellectual exploration.
Dangit! They actually were trolls all along!
Ok, what potions can I make with the ingredients I currently have in my cloak?
Um...
Ah...
Think quick, Omric! (I could see the club rising for a second attempt, from my position on the ground, where I was lying, bleeding and stunned, in an attempt to fool the trolls into thinking the blow had almost knocked me unconscious. Ha! Fools.)
That's it! Potion 143 - 'Gets That Nasty Washed-In Stain Out First Time Every Time'. I even remembered the incantation!
Ooh, this was going to be good.
Previous Concoction : : Next Invention
As you can see, at this point I was at the height of my intellectual powers. My mind felt like it was on fire.
No,
wait,
my mind actually was on fire. "Aaaaargh!" I cried as I threw the charred remains of my hat and hair on the ground (both of which had grown to considerable length in the past three years!) To stop the strange tingling sensation going on on top of my scalp, which some people apparently refer to as 'pain', I stood on my head in the snow for a few minutes.
A few minutes passed.
I passed out.
THUD! The thud of a wizard falling to the ground from a headstanding position woke me from my slumber.
"Right!" I determined determinately. "Time to got get those ingredients!"
Conveniently the explosion had left 10% of my accumulated ingredients unharmed, and I quickly gathered them up and stuffed them in the pockets of my robe. As well as being explosion proof, the potion book could be folded in half 9 times (only magic paper can be folded this many times, you know) so I folded it up and stuffed it down inside my sock.
I took a moment to survey the scene before me. I vaguely remembered taking a path to Myron's place all those years ago, a path which wove up along a steep mountain face, treacherously thin in places, and I did recall at that point a strange moment when I thought I saw a couple of trolls eying me from beneath an overhang as I walked up, but you know how memories are. Probably just large rocks (the trolls, not the memories. Though maybe trolls' memories are rocks?)
"Aha! There it is!" The only path in sight wove away from me and down the mountain face. It looked vaguely familiar, and I could see a few large rocks beneath an overhang a wee way down the path.
I strode confidently down the path.
It was refreshing, actually, this walking business. I found myself enjoying the activity, and although it was in no way a substitute for hours spent alone in a freezing cottage making potions which require elaborate incantations often in multiple languages to be said over them (and even in some cases the aforementioned languages only work if you say them in the right accent, like 'Makes Yuck Food Yummy' which for some reason only accepts Canadian French) I did understand how some people could consider this a viable recreational activity. I wondered, did Myron enjoyed walking, before he died? It wasn't likely, considering Potion 84, 'Teleport', which was actually a real pain to test, 'cos obviously I didn't want to test it on myself, so I just used to tip it on field mice and watch them disappear. However it was hard to know if they had in fact successfully teleported anywhere, given the fact that Potion 37 'Disappear' also produced the same result and the mice I had teleported never returned to fill out the post-experiment questionnaire or attend any of the focus groups.
As you can see, at this point my brain was sharper than an Echidna with a haircut and a Ph.D in Physics.
THUD! The thud of a wizard getting smacked on the head with a troll's club quickly dulled my sense of intellectual exploration.
Dangit! They actually were trolls all along!
Ok, what potions can I make with the ingredients I currently have in my cloak?
Um...
Ah...
Think quick, Omric! (I could see the club rising for a second attempt, from my position on the ground, where I was lying, bleeding and stunned, in an attempt to fool the trolls into thinking the blow had almost knocked me unconscious. Ha! Fools.)
That's it! Potion 143 - 'Gets That Nasty Washed-In Stain Out First Time Every Time'. I even remembered the incantation!
Ooh, this was going to be good.
Previous Concoction : : Next Invention
posted by Musings | 11:52 PM
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