When one door opens, you gotta find a window...
These idiotic louts think that they can brow beat me into working for them. Or with them. Ha. Idiots don't even know what Immortal means... They probably all think that by destroying a things body that it all is okay. No concept of power. No idea of their own limitations and weaknesses.

A gesture, and a spell brings into being a scroll of paper briefly engulfed by flames. A second such gesture creates a pen, that shimmers softly before going dull in the weak light within the room.

The little imp brandishes the pen, flicking it deftly to apply his mark on the contract floating before him- a standard mercenary contract that stipulates what is expected of him, and what he can expect in return for his efforts. Tossing the paperwork down before the massive goliath woman, the little imp draws himself up to his full eleven inch height, and tosses the pen down onto the paper before her, a wicked grin crossing his tiny features.

"Sign it, and we can get to work making sure no one takes anything from us ever again" he barks out in a slithering squeak.

Sign it, and I'll use you to make certain I can never be summoned to this wasteland again. So troublesome, and irritating. Not even any power here...

"Hey, DWARF! I have an idea... if we worked some spells into the tree, that would disrupt magic, we could let the tree protect itself from anyone trying to use it to defile... including us! Do you think we could do that? The Principle is sound, Arcanely speaking, but I'm not sure if the Tree could handle it."
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