Although Dag wrote many Q&A answers, these represent the few Caarad Surestrider was able to recover. Apparantly, the rest have been collected and destroyed. I can't imagine why.

Vardin Silvertongue

Dear Dag,

I got charged a fine the other day because my shop did not pass sanitary regulations. If they allowed me to use cleaning spirits like I wanted, this would never have happened. What can I do to protest this injustice?

-- Dirty and Angry

Dear D&A,

Well, as they say, D&A, "Cleanliness is next to Godliness". But I can see your point. More than once have I seen the fist of the unbending fascist inspectors come down on an innocent and hardworking shopkeeper such as yourself. The only proper thing to do here is to arrange so that your just protestations cannot be ignored. Make your complaints known and assert your Passion-given rights as a citizen! What you must do is show that no bureaucrat pencil-pusher can tell you how to run your shop. The night before your next inspection, flood your shop with raw sewage. When the inspector is to arrive, smear yourself and your employees with feces and prance around in a way that mocks him. Be sure to let him know that you think of his wife whenever you burp up bile. Address him as "lawdog".

Dear Dag,

My neighbor stole my gardening hoe, and refuses to give it back. I went to the authorities, but I have no way of proving its mine and my neighbor won't listen. What can I do?

-- Hoe No!

Dear Hoe,

I hear you, Hoe. I am going to let you in on a little saying you might not have heard before - sometimes, when the law stops is when the justice begins. That's right, Hoe. When you know you're right and the infernal trappings of law are keeping you down, you've got to cast off the chains of bureaucracy and do the right thing. If it's your hoe, Hoe, then under the eyes of the Passions, go take back what's yours. Walk right over to your neighbors home before dawn, banging loudly in his storage shed (or whatever) as you reclaim your rightful property. Then, when he comes out all indignant at having his beauty rest interrupted, give him a good two or three whacks over the head with the blunt side of the hoe. This will ensure that he never wants to see that hoe again (much less further violate the trust between neighbors), and when he wakes up with the sunrise, he'll be a new man.

Dear Dag,

What should I practice more, the broadsword or the two-handed sword? Which do you like? I said you'd like the two-handed sword, but my brother said you were too much of a wimp to use one.

-- Crossed Swords

Dear X-Swords,

I'm a sword master in more ways than one. Unfortunately, your brother is quite right in saying I prefer the broadsword in combat scenarios and suggest you practice it. However, I like to use two hands on my pork sword when I'm "attacking" your sister-in-law.

Dear Dag,

I am a dwarf in love with a elf maiden, but how do I get her to love me back?

-- Small Legs, Big Heart

Dear Heart,

First off, don't use that "small legs, big heart" line on her. You know what they say about "small legs". Your tale, though, is an old one - of love unrequited reaching across social and racial lines. In your case, I gotta say you're pretty much you know what out of luck. Under normal circumstances, you'll be getting together with her right around the same time I achieve my childhood dream of becoming the Passion of Lust. Still, you come to ol' Dag for answers, and here's mine: hire a band of your trusty mates to abduct this damsel and put her in distress. After a day or so, go in and save the day. Now, realize you may need to kill one or two of your buddies for effect. Best to leave that part out in the planning stages. If they're true friends, they'll know to take one for the team.

Dear Dag,

I live on a small farm with my wife. Although I tell her not to, she insists on taking long walks. Now, she tells me she's been Horror-marked. My best friend tells me I need to strike at the source if everything is going to be all right. What can I do to help my wife?

-- Married to a Monster?

Dear Married,

Married, your best friend is right, except I don't think you got the point. When he means "source", he means the source of your danger. You don't take long walks so what Horrors have you ever seen? Not only that, but you're only a farmer, what good are you going to do against a Horror? You can't wait for soldiers to find the creature. It will be too late for you. Your best friend is looking out for you. Listen to him. Take a sickel, and when your wife is facing away from you, lop off her head. If you really love her, make sure you sharpen the sickel first. It's the only way to be sure.

Dear Dag,

Is it true that you knew Gort?

-- Gort's #1 Fan

Dear Fan

Knew him? He was like the little brother to bully I never had. I pulled his big, stony rear out of the fire more times than I care to remember. Listen, kid (and I'm presuming you're young because Gort admiration must be a stage you grow out of), it's all well and good to like Gort, but you can't go around idly worshipping the dead. It's not healthy, and it's bad for the social skills. You need a new direction, and I think I can help. Let me put it this way - did Gort ever die when I was around? Eh? Eh? Of course not. Send your 10 gold annual membership fee to (address deleted) and you'll join the "Dag Fan Club". All the chicks'll dig ya, your friends'll all be jealous and it'll be your first step toward manhood. Trust me - you won't regret it.

Dear Dag,

I wanna be a swordmaster just like you, but everyone always laughs at my taunts. How can I become as good as you?

-- Dull-bladed Tongue

Dear Dull-bladed,

Son, you can never be as good as me but, gosh dang it, you can try. As with most things in life, the best place to turn your fortunes around is at home. Think about the loved ones in your life. Since you know them well, think about three things for each person that you know would hurt their feelings. Then go and tell them that to their faces, piling on insult after insult as they stammer and sputter or, even better, just stare slackjawed. Then, when you can sense they are at the height of their shock, punch them in their stomachs as hard as you can. Don't worry about reprecussions. Family members will always support your dreams. Practice this for a while, and you'll start to get an idea of what it takes to be a true Swordmaster.

Dear Dag,

For generations, the males in my family have been soldiers. My son, though, wants to be a dancing troubadour. What can I do to convince him to carry on the tradition?

-- Bitter Father

Dear Bitter,

I'm with you on this one, Bitt. Unfortunately, there is little we can do to influence our children's choices of lifestyle. You can make your displeasure known, however. Do not try rational arguments -- they never work in a situation like this. Subtlety is the key here. I suggest you change your outward disposition and regain his trust. Tell him you want to take him out for the night so that you can show him what kind of dance *you* like. Proceed to the troubadours' residence and set it ablaze. As the burning performers "dance" their spasmodic danse macabre, your message should be conveyed quite well. I am sure that after he sees the panicky, flaming dance-of-death performance you prefer, he will no doubt be convinced to carry on the tradition while still keeping your special father-son bond intact.

Dag's Introduction

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