Snack Bandit
For all my complaints about working in person in the demi-plane that houses my chapter of the Grand Celestio Council of Wizards, there are those simplistic perks that turn my mood around. One of these perks is the cupboard open for all Mages to take snacks out of at their leisure. You’d be surprised at how much easier it is to deal with an angry client yelling at you about how his fire powers are “not hot enough” when you know that as soon as it’s over, you can walk over to the cupboard and access the treasure trove of delicious treats within. Management knows how cranky wizards get when left unfed, so I imagine their fears were on the verge of tripling when they heard what took place at the end of last week.
Before telling this story I’ll first have to establish two things, the first of which is the layout of the snack cupboard. I say cupboard because that’s what we call it, but it only appears on the outside as if it were a closet sized space. Once you enter the unassuming door, the space within opens up to become a sizable storage room. All around the entrance there is a semblance of order, with some sturdy shelves containing well organized containers, but as is a wizard’s habit, eventually things just start getting thrown wherever they will fit, and the further back you trek into the snack cupboard, the more the stacks of boxes loom over your head and divide the space into twisting corridors of dried nuts and sweet candies. The snack cupboard becomes a veritable snack labyrinth, and I don’t know the last time a person reached the back wall of the space and lived to tell the tale. And I definitely don’t say that just to scare the Entry-Level Mages into staying away from my secret stash of energizing potions.
Regardless, for the last few weeks we’ve all noticed an absence of some of our favorite treats, even when we are sure they were just restocked. The second thing I should now establish about this story is that I was not present for it. For better or for worse, I refused to indulge the conspiracy theories of my co-workers, and so the adventure that follows is being reported to you secondhand.
The two main players of this story are the time culprit I described to you last week, who, for this story, I will call Nik, and a coworker I have not yet mentioned in any of these letters who I will call Gail, on account of her being a native of the elemental dimension of air, herself, obviously, an air elemental woman.
Nik was, to put it lightly, losing his mind over the absence of his favorite crunchy snacks. He was convinced someone was stealing them, and he did his darnedest to convince all those around him of the same. Most, like I, ignored him, but Gail, being the influence she is, encouraged Nik to collect evidence. I imagine her initial suggestion was made for her own amusement, eager to stir up something interesting to talk about in the office, but I believe she blew too close to the sun because, from what I understand, she somehow ended up agreeing to come into the demi-plane early with Nik to perform a stakeout in the snack cupboard.
You wouldn’t know it based on the aftermath, but apparently Nik and Gail crafted a hiding spot out of unused shelves and nearly empty boxes. There they lay in silence for about three hours, until, while Nik was allegedly nodding off, Gail spotted the faintest bit of movement in the pile of crunchy snacks she and Nik had arranged within view of their hideout. Gail attempted to whisper the observation to Nik, but the second Nik was disturbed from his sleep, he apparently began to flail, knocking the boxes and a shelf down onto himself with a crash. Gail, obviously, avoided the crash because she is a woman made of wind.
The sudden noise spooked the thing making the disturbance, which Gail could now see clearly was a bright purple goblinesque creature with big eyes and ears, which promptly shoved seven bags of crunchy snacks in its mouth, a small opening that fit an impossible amount of bounty within it, much like the expansive snack cupboard the creature promptly disappeared into.
Gail and Nik searched for about an hour before they slowly sulked out of the closet door and sat down at their desks to clock in, much to the surprise to the rest of us who thought they were simply running late. From what I’ve heard, management is setting up two meetings for us in the near future; one to brainstorm solutions to our snack bandit situation, and another to remind us to abstain from loitering in the demi-plane outside of work hours.
May the moon shine favorably and without hesitation upon you,
Alexan Drytus
