Warlock Backstory Generator: The Bargain and the Small Print
Press New backstory for who they bargained with, what they asked, what they promised and the clause they missed.
Warlock Backstory Generator: The Bargain and the Small Print: 30 backstories
Bargained with a sunset that has been running late all week. Asked for the knack of finding whatever is lost. Promised one night a year standing where they are told to stand. Sealed by turning a doormat over and putting it back. Missed one clause: it binds anyone who shares their surname. It left an itch in the writing hand whenever a pen is near.
Padlock: keep a part.Arrows: change only that part.
Bargained witha sunset that has been running late all week
Asked forthe knack of finding whatever is lost
Promisedone night a year standing where they are told to stand
Sealedby turning a doormat over and putting it back
Missed one clauseit binds anyone who shares their surname
It leftan itch in the writing hand whenever a pen is near
History (0)
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Backstory of the day
Bargained with a sunset that has been running late all week. Asked for the knack of finding whatever is lost. Promised one night a year standing where they are told to stand. Sealed by turning a doormat over and putting it back. Missed one clause: it binds anyone who shares their surname. It left an itch in the writing hand whenever a pen is near.
Bargained with a very polite creditor who never blinks. Asked for the right word, every time, a moment sooner. Promised the quiet half hour after every supper. Sealed by finishing a sentence the other party had started. Missed one clause: the other party may read their post first. It left a pocket that leaks a little sand, whatever they wear.
Bargained with a barn owl working through a very short list. Asked for an eye for any handwriting, however bad. Promised their way of wiggling their ears. Sealed by saying yes to a question they had not quite heard. Missed one clause: the other party may borrow anything of theirs for a month. It left change that is always counted out twice before they get it.
Bargained with something that lives under the third stair. Asked for an early spring after a winter that had gone on too long. Promised to hold one end of a rope when asked, and not look round. Sealed by shaking an empty glove held out on a stick. Missed one clause: the other party may send a deputy, of any size. It left a streak of white in their hair, exactly a finger wide.
Bargained with a very polite creditor who never blinks. Asked for a blanket that is always warm. Promised to join any game that turns out to be one player short. Sealed on the back of a receipt for something else. Missed one clause: a guest who stays the night is bound until breakfast. It left a hat that tips itself to certain strangers.
Bargained with a patch of sunlight that moves when nobody watches. Asked for a garden that would grow in any soil. Promised their good side, in every portrait from now on. Sealed in the dust on a mantelpiece, never dusted since. Missed one clause: it is inherited by whoever inherits their spectacles. It left a handprint on one shoulder, as if from a clap on the back.
Bargained with a dancing master who teaches one step a year. Asked for the right answer in the one exam that mattered. Promised never to wear green. Sealed in a hedge maze, at a turning that is not on the plan. Missed one clause: they must keep their copy dry, whatever happens. It left the sense, at every sum, of being checked.
Bargained with a toad that has sat on one stone since before the mill. Asked for one win at chess against their uncle. Promised the naming of their first horse. Sealed at a pupil's desk in a school shut for the holidays. Missed one clause: one comma in it decides which of them pays. It left the sense, at every sum, of being checked.
Bargained with a spring that only runs for people who ask nicely. Asked for dry feet in every puddle from then on. Promised never to finish the last mouthful on a plate. Sealed by finishing a sentence the other party had started. Missed one clause: they must be on time for everything, from now on. It left one eyebrow that sits higher, permanently interested.
Bargained with a lighthouse that winks back at whoever waves. Asked for a friend's play to fill the hall on its first night. Promised the first snow that falls on their own roof. Sealed in a rowing boat, exactly as far out as it would go. Missed one clause: the other party may borrow anything of theirs for a month. It left a small cold spot in the middle of one palm.
Bargained with a toad that has sat on one stone since before the mill. Asked for rain for one dry valley. Promised one night a year standing where they are told to stand. Sealed with a knot in a length of blue wool. Missed one clause: the other party may visit without notice. It left the same number on every ticket they are given.
Bargained with a toad that has sat on one stone since before the mill. Asked for an eye for any handwriting, however bad. Promised to keep a path mown across their field for whoever uses it. Sealed by saying yes to a question they had not quite heard. Missed one clause: the other party picks where they live, once. It left a date in small numerals behind one ear.
Bargained with a barn owl working through a very short list. Asked for a way out of a dance they had promised to lead. Promised their way of wiggling their ears. Sealed with a bow, returned from farther off than seemed likely. Missed one clause: notice to end it must be given a lifetime ahead. It left a second letterbox in the door, lower down.
Bargained with a sunset that has been running late all week. Asked for the gist of what birds are arguing about. Promised always to carry a spare spoon, in case. Sealed on a leaf, which was then let go on the wind. Missed one clause: they must move away if the other party is ever seen. It left an itch in the writing hand whenever a pen is near.
Bargained with a hedgehog that keeps office hours under a hedge. Asked for one win at chess against their uncle. Promised their recipe for the one dish they cook well. Sealed on the back of a receipt for something else. Missed one clause: they must wear something of the other party's choosing. It left an empty picture frame nobody remembers hanging.
Bargained with a patch of sunlight that moves when nobody watches. Asked for release from an older, worse bargain. Promised every third birthday. Sealed by hopping a row of squares they took for hopscotch. Missed one clause: they must be on time for everything, from now on. It left shop scales that tip a hair toward them, every time.
Bargained with a rabbit warren that has a number painted over every hole. Asked for a purse that is never quite empty. Promised their next good idea, whatever it turns out to be. Sealed with a ring of grass braided on the spot. Missed one clause: whoever witnessed it stands surety for the lot. It left a sneeze whenever anyone nearby breaks a promise.
Bargained with a barn owl working through a very short list. Asked for hair that stays combed. Promised their afternoon nap, for life. Sealed with an X, since their hand would not write the rest. Missed one clause: any animal they own is counted as having signed. It left an ink stain on one thumb that never washes off.
Bargained with a queen bee who has outlived six hives. Asked for the right answer in the one exam that mattered. Promised their recipe for the one dish they cook well. Sealed by counting to a hundred with their eyes shut. Missed one clause: it goes with their trade, to whoever takes it up next. It left a signature that is not theirs, inside the left wrist.
Bargained with a Thursday that never got written into any calendar. Asked for the patience to finish what they start. Promised always to walk wide of one perfectly ordinary pond. Sealed on the top step of a stile, one on each side. Missed one clause: it applies to the whole street, as a courtesy. It left doors that hold themselves open for them and nobody else.
Bargained with a pothole in the lane, deeper each time it is measured. Asked for socks that never slide down. Promised half of anything they find and cannot name. Sealed by hopping a row of squares they took for hopscotch. Missed one clause: they must keep accounts, to be inspected without warning. It left a small bell on their belt that rings when payment is due.
Bargained with something that lives under the third stair. Asked for the last slice, every time. Promised the whole summer of the year they turn forty. Sealed with a pinch of flour over the left shoulder. Missed one clause: the other party may ask one question and must be answered. It left a small polite cough from the next room, wherever they stay.
Bargained with a very old pike that has never once been caught. Asked for the family farm bought back from the landlord. Promised to hold one end of a rope when asked, and not look round. Sealed by picking up a dropped parcel and handing it back. Missed one clause: the other party may change one word of it a year. It left a walking stick that points one way when dropped.
Bargained with whatever keeps the tide tables for one small bay. Asked for the patience to finish what they start. Promised their right to say I told you so. Sealed by finishing a sentence the other party had started. Missed one clause: the small print was on the back. It left the sense, at every sum, of being checked.
Bargained with a tollkeeper on a road nobody remembers building. Asked for the village school kept open another year. Promised half of anything they find and cannot name. Sealed in the margin of a newspaper a week out of date. Missed one clause: they must always use the other party's full title. It left the same number on every ticket they are given.
Bargained with an empty birdcage that still gets fed. Asked for a spade that never blunts. Promised always to ride facing backward, in any cart or carriage. Sealed by turning a doormat over and putting it back. Missed one clause: the word always appears in it nineteen times. It left a second letterbox in the door, lower down.
Bargained with the horizon, which came a little closer to hear the offer. Asked for a head start of one night. Promised to join any game that turns out to be one player short. Sealed at the back of a crowd, during somebody else's speech. Missed one clause: the other party may visit without notice. It left a kitchen fire that has not gone out since.
Bargained with a pothole in the lane, deeper each time it is measured. Asked for a pair of boots that know the way. Promised their album of pressed flowers, start to finish. Sealed with a string held taut between them and cut in the middle. Missed one clause: it is inherited by whoever inherits their spectacles. It left a pen laid ready on every table they sit down at.
Bargained with a bookseller who stocks only second volumes. Asked for a debt wiped off somebody's slate. Promised to add one stone a year to a wall nobody needs. Sealed by borrowing a pen and forgetting to give it back. Missed one clause: the other party may collect early, in bad weather. It left a slight echo on the word yes.
Bargained with a pothole in the lane, deeper each time it is measured. Asked for the trick of mending whatever they pick up. Promised their good side, in every portrait from now on. Sealed by saying yes to a question they had not quite heard. Missed one clause: in its first language, gift and loan are one word. It left a sneeze whenever anyone nearby breaks a promise.
a mole with a very large mapMolehills across a lawn in a perfectly straight line.
a pothole in the lane, deeper each time it is measuredA stick lowered into a puddle up to the hand and a longer stick lying ready.
a rabbit warren that has a number painted over every holeA grassy bank of burrows, each with a small painted number above it.
Show all 60 parties (57 more)
Under water or under ground, continued
a root cellar that has opinionsA trapdoor in a kitchen floor, open a hand's width, with the mat lifting.
a spring that only runs for people who ask nicelyA cupped hand under a rock and one polite drop.
a toad that has sat on one stone since before the millA toad on a milestone in the rain, unbothered.
a very old pike that has never once been caughtA fishing line gone slack and a long dark back just under the surface.
something that lives under the third stairA stair with a mousehole cut far too neatly.
something under the millpond that speaks only after darkBlack water, a mill wheel stopped, and one slow ring spreading.
the stream that runs under the high streetA grating in the cobbles with a ribbon of weed waving in it.
the thing the river mud remembersA riverbank at low water with one deep, odd-shaped hollow slowly filling.
whatever keeps the tide tables for one small bayWet footprints up a jetty that stop at a writing desk.
Sky and weather 12
a cloud that has kept to one valley for a hundred yearsA single cloud over a single farm in a clear sky.
a heat haze that stands at one bend of the roadA shimmer over a summer lane with a shape in it about the height of a person.
a leaf that has been falling since last autumnOne leaf hanging at eye level in still air over a path, and walkers stepping round it.
a patch of sunlight that moves when nobody watchesA bright square on floorboards, nowhere near the window.
a rainbow's other end, the one nobody looks forA plain field, a spade, and faint stripes on the grass.
a sunset that has been running late all weekAn orange sky over rooftops and a lamplighter waiting, pole on shoulder.
a Thursday that never got written into any calendarA wall calendar with one week a day too long.
the breeze under a door that is never openedA strip of light under a door and a feather sliding out from it.
the gap between lightning and its thunderA figure on a hill counting on their fingers.
the horizon, which came a little closer to hear the offerA figure leaning on a fence and the skyline only one hedge away.
the last star before dawnOne pale dot over a rooftop and a figure at a window, hand raised.
the minute the parlour clock always skipsA clock face with one minute mark missing near the top.
Creatures with paperwork 12
a badger that only keeps appointments at duskA striped face at a hole in a bank and an appointment card pinned to a root.
a barn owl working through a very short listA pale owl on a fence rail, a short scroll under one foot, one line crossed off.
a fox in a waistcoat who will not say who sent itA fine waistcoat hung on a bramble, still warm.
a hedgehog that keeps office hours under a hedgeA small brass bell hung from a twig at ankle height.
a heron that reads every clause standing on one legA heron on one leg in the shallows, beak lowered to a paper floating by.
a moth the size of a saucer that speaks for the lampsA moth on a lamp glass, wings spread like an open book.
a queen bee who has outlived six hivesOne bee on the rim of an inkwell and tiny inky footprints.
a spider that has held the same corner for sixty yearsA thick grey web across one corner of a ceiling with one neat gap left in it.
a stag that turned up to the meeting in personAntlers in a doorway too low for them.
a tortoise that began the talks with their grandmotherA tortoise on a doorstep with a faded ribbon round its shell.
an old crow with a ledgerA crow on a gatepost with a pencil stub held in one foot.
three magpies who must all agreeThree magpies on a washing line, two bobbing, the third with its back turned.
Polite strangers 12
a bookseller who stocks only second volumesA handcart of matching spines, each stamped with the same numeral.
a child who has been nine for a very long timeA child on a wall, legs swinging, in clothes a century out of date.
a dancing master who teaches one step a yearA long empty floor, one pupil on one foot, and a patient figure with a small fiddle.
a gentleman who leaves no dent in the cushionAn armchair, a hat on the armrest, and a perfectly plump seat.
a lodger who paid a year ahead and has never been seenA tray outside a door, the plate clean, a coin under the cup.
a notary whose office is only there on wet daysA lit doorway between two shops in the rain, and no number on it.
a tailor who measures people for coats not yet neededA tape measure laid along a shadow on the floor.
a tall woman who buys TuesdaysA market stall with seven jars and one of them empty.
a tollkeeper on a road nobody remembers buildingA lifted barrier across an open hillside and a palm held out.
a very polite creditor who never blinksGloved hands folded on a cane and a steady, friendly stare.
a wandering clerk with a bag of other people's promisesA satchel spilling slips of paper, each tied with thread.
somebody's great-aunt, though nobody can say whoseAn old lady at a family table and every face turned politely blank.
Places and things 12
a garden roller that is never where it was leftStripes on a lawn leading to a heavy roller in the wrong corner.
a house that wanted somebody to live in itA front door open a little and a warm light on the step.
a letterbox in a field wall with no house behind itA brass flap in a mossy wall and a hand posting a folded note through it.
a lighthouse that winks back at whoever wavesA beam over dark water and one short flicker out of turn.
a locked chest that hums when spoken to politelyAn iron-bound chest with an ear pressed to its lid.
a see-saw that sits level with nobody on itA plank resting perfectly level on its post in long grass, both seats empty.
a ship's figurehead retired to an orchard, facing inlandA carved wooden figure among apple trees, chin up, paint peeling.
a statue in the square that steps down after midnightA bronze figure with one foot already off its block, testing the cobbles.
a sundial that only tells the time in the rainA stone dial streaming with rain and a figure setting a watch by it.
an account book that had filled in its own first lineA ledger open on a table, pen lying across it, ink still wet.
an empty birdcage that still gets fedA cage with the door open, seed in the dish, and a husk on the floor.
the village pump, which had been listeningA pump handle lifted a little, as if to hear better.
How this list was compiled: Original list written for Draw This Next, October 2026. Every party was made up for this list in a fairy-tale register: odd, harmless, described and never named. Left out on purpose: devils, demons, souls, ghosts and any figure taken from a religion, a tradition of magic, a game or a book. Talking animals and weather with a mind of its own are common in old tales, so a line may recall a story by chance. The notes on what to draw are our own suggestions. The page's one fact, that the word warlock most likely comes from an Old English word for a breaker of oaths, was checked on 1 October 2026 against https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warlock. Licence: own work
Asked for: all 60 requests
For somebody else 12
a fishing fleet home safe through one bad nightMast lights in a line on black water and a figure counting them.
a friend's play to fill the hall on its first nightFull benches, a painted curtain, and one face peeking round it.
a full shop for a parent who had never had oneA bell over a shop door caught mid-swing and a line past the window.
Show all 60 requests (57 more)
For somebody else, continued
a long last summer for a very old dogA white muzzle asleep on a doorstep in the sun.
a lost flock found before the snow cameHoofprints in mud all turning toward one gate.
a market charter for a town that had noneA proclamation nailed to a post and stalls going up round it.
a road through the marsh that would not sinkA straight causeway of planks with reeds on both sides, dry.
a well for a hill village that had always carried waterA new stone well and every bucket in the village lined up beside it.
the family farm bought back from the landlordA gate with a new latch and a sale board face down in the grass.
one more good harvest for a village in debtA cart piled too high and a wheel bowing under it.
rain for one dry valleyCracked earth, one dark spot on it, and a face turned up.
the village school kept open another yearA row of small coats on pegs and a lit stove in an empty classroom.
A knack 12
a garden that would grow in any soilBeans climbing a string out of a pot of gravel.
a head for figuresA long sum on a wall and a relaxed person leaning beside it.
a memory for every face they meetA crowd with a small tag of thread tied to each coat.
a steady hand for fine workA single hair being painted on a portrait the size of a coin.
a way with horsesA big horse lowering its head to be spoken to.
an eye for any handwriting, however badA scrawled letter held at arm's length with no squint at all.
the gist of what birds are arguing aboutA figure under a tree, head tilted, wincing at something overheard.
the knack of finding whatever is lostA hand under a floorboard, already holding the thing.
the patience to finish what they startA shelf of half-built model ships and the first one with a sail on.
the right word, every time, a moment soonerA speaker mid-sentence and a listener already nodding.
sea legs from the first day aboardA deck at a steep tilt and one figure standing easy with a bowl of soup.
the trick of mending whatever they pick upA cracked jug whole again, with one hairline left for honesty.
A thing 12
a blanket that is always warmA blanket on a washing line in snow, steaming gently.
a boat that cannot be turned overA small boat sitting upright on a very steep wave.
a bread oven that never burns a loafA tray of even brown loaves and a baker asleep on a flour sack.
a forge of their own, the fire already litAn anvil, a glow, and a doorway with no sign over it yet.
a kettle that is always just boiledA kettle on a cold hob with steam at the spout.
a ladder that is always exactly tall enoughOne ladder against a haystack, a tower and a pear tree in turn.
a lamp that needs no oilA lamp burning on a shelf beside a full, dusty oil can.
a needle that never loses its threadA needle hanging from a hem by a thread that does not end.
a pair of boots that know the wayA walker deep in a book while their boots take the turning by themselves.
a purse that is never quite emptyOne coin in a purse and a hand looking for the second.
a spade that never bluntsA spade standing in a finished ditch, its edge bright.
one shortcut, good for one trip to anywhereA gap in a hedge with a different sky through it.
A way out 12
a debt wiped off somebody's slateA slate with a clean streak through the middle of the sums.
a head start of one nightA road at dusk, one set of footprints, and nobody yet at the gate.
a quarrel forgotten by both families at onceTwo front doors facing across a lane, both of them open.
a way home across water that had no crossingStepping stones, the last three still rising.
a way out of a dance they had promised to leadA ballroom floor, couples in place, and a gap at the top of the set.
an apprenticeship ended with years still to runAn apron hung on a nail and an open door behind it.
an early spring after a winter that had gone on too longIcicles dripping in a row and one crocus in the wrong month.
the bailiff to forget their addressA man with a notebook walking past a door and frowning at the next one.
the last coach to wait five minutes longerA coach in a yard, the driver holding the reins slack, and a figure running.
one day to live over againTwo identical breakfasts side by side, one of them eaten wrong.
release from an older, worse bargainTwo contracts on a table and the older one curling at the edges.
the right answer in the one exam that matteredA desk, a blank page, and a hand suddenly writing.
Small and foolish 12
a nickname they actually likedA name carved on a desk, crossed out, and a better one below it.
a turn at being picked first for teamsA row of children and one hand pointing straight at the smallest.
a whistle through two fingers that carriesPigeons going up all at once from a square.
the best seat by the fire for a whole yearA hearth, one deep armchair, and a figure who got there first.
dry feet in every puddle from then onRain bouncing off cobbles and one pair of spotless, pleased boots.
hair that stays combedA neat parting in a gale.
the last slice, every timeA cake with one piece left and every other hand hesitating.
one correct guess about the weatherA figure in a heavy coat, alone, as the first drop lands.
one inch more height than their brotherTwo notches on a door frame, the new one barely above the old.
one win at chess against their uncleA board, a toppled king, and an old man laughing.
one win in the egg-and-spoon raceA spoon held perfectly steady and a rival's egg in mid-air.
socks that never slide downA long run downhill and two socks still at the knee.
How this list was compiled: Original list written for Draw This Next, October 2026. Every request was made up for this list and is small, human and harmless: help for somebody else, a knack, a thing, a way out of a fix or something foolish. No game's power, spell or feature was used as a model; a purse that is never quite empty and boots that know the way are gifts as old as fairy tales. The notes on what to draw are our own suggestions. Licence: own work
Promised: all 72 prices
Time 12
an evening a month doing somebody else's sumsA desk with two ledgers, one of them much older than the desk.
every third birthdayA cake with the candles unlit and the guests looking at the calendar.
every wet Wednesday, to be spent as directedA figure at a window watching the rain with a list in hand.
Show all 72 prices (69 more)
Time, continued
the last song of every eveningA coat going on in a doorway while the room is still singing.
the one fine day in each AprilA figure indoors at a desk beside a window full of blossom.
one hour of every market dayA stall left minded by a hat on a stick.
one night a year standing where they are told to standA figure alone on a hilltop at night, stamping their feet.
the quiet half hour after every supperA cleared table, a chair pushed back, and a figure sitting bolt upright, waiting.
seven years of morningsA bed slept in until noon and a rooster giving up.
their afternoon nap, for lifeA hammock swinging empty between two trees and a figure striding past it.
three days each haymaking, worked in a meadow not theirsA hay rake on a shoulder at the edge of somebody else's meadow at dawn.
the whole summer of the year they turn fortyA straw sun hat on a nail with a luggage label tied to it.
A share 12
a tenth of their firewood, stacked by the back gateA neat small stack by a gate, apart from the main pile.
the best egg from every clutchA basket of brown eggs and one empty hollow in the straw.
every seventh loaf they bakeSix loaves on a rack and a space the size of a seventh.
the first apple from every tree they plantAn apple set on a wall with a ribbon round the stalk.
first refusal on anything they ever sellA market stall with one item kept back under a cloth.
the froth off every pan of jam they boilA saucer of pink foam on a sill beside a row of filled jars.
half of anything they find and cannot nameAn odd brass object on a workbench, sawn neatly in two.
the left glove of every pair they ownA drawer of right-hand gloves, neatly paired with nothing.
one sheet of every letter they write, left blankA letter of two sheets, one covered in writing, one bare, folded together.
one stitch in every seam, left openA coat lining with one neat gap near the pocket.
the shade of their best tree on the hottest day each yearA figure sitting in full sun beside an empty circle of shade.
the string off every parcel they are ever sentA kitchen drawer of neat coils of string and a parcel half unwrapped beside it.
A service 12
one errand a year, with no reasons givenA sealed parcel on the step with a destination and nothing else.
to add one stone a year to a wall nobody needsA dry stone wall across an open hillside, going nowhere, very well built.
to air the loft over a stable that stands emptyA hayloft door propped wide and one figure with a broom.
to count the swans on one lake and send the numberA notebook on a knee at a lake edge and a great many white dots.
to feed whatever turns up in the yard at duskA saucer on a step and something large and dim politely waiting.
to hold one end of a rope when asked, and not look roundA rope over a garden wall and a figure hauling steadily, eyes on the sky.
to join any game that turns out to be one player shortA team one player short on a village green, every arm beckoning a passer-by.
to keep a path mown across their field for whoever uses itA mown stripe through long grass from hedge to hedge and no footprints on it.
to keep a secret that is not even interestingA locked box, a bored face, and an elbow on the lid.
to mend one net a year and leave it on the harbour wallA net over a wall, a wooden netting needle, and an empty mooring post.
to put in a good word for a stranger, when toldA raised hand at the back of a meeting and a puzzled chairman.
to water a row of pots for a tenant who moved awayA watering can and a line of geraniums under a dark window.
A habit, kept for life 12
always to carry a spare spoon, in caseA second spoon in a breast pocket like a pen.
always to give their real name when asked twiceA figure at a counter, frozen, at a question repeated.
always to hang their washing out at nightA basket of wet shirts in a dark garden and a figure pegging them out by lantern.
always to ride facing backward, in any cart or carriageA carriage of passengers looking ahead and one looking back down the road.
always to sleep with one window openA curtain blowing in over a bed with an extra blanket on it.
always to turn round when a certain bird callsA head turning in a crowd at a sound nobody else noticed.
always to walk wide of one perfectly ordinary pondA worn path bending round a duck pond for no reason anyone can see.
never to be the first to leave a roomA long-empty hall, chairs stacked, and one person still by the door.
never to buy the first thing a stallholder holds upThree jugs held up one after another and a finger pointing firmly at the second.
never to finish the last mouthful on a plateA row of plates, each with one pea left.
never to strike another bargain, with anyone, everA pen offered across a desk and two hands held up, palms out.
never to wear greenA wardrobe sorted by every shade but one.
Something of theirs 12
the cool side of every pillow they sleep onA hand turning a pillow over, and over again, in the small hours.
their album of pressed flowers, start to finishA bare shelf with one album-shaped gap and a single dry petal on it.
their best story, never to be told againA fireside circle leaning in and a teller shaking their head.
their earliest piece of carpentry, a lopsided stoolA pale square on a floor where a stool always stood.
their good side, in every portrait from now onA sitter being turned the other way by a puzzled painter.
their place in the family portraitA painted group with a person-shaped patch of plain wall.
their recipe for the one dish they cook wellA recipe card with the middle torn out.
their right to say I told you soA figure biting a knuckle while a friend mops up.
their second-best hat, whichever that comes to beA hat stand with a gap at the second peg.
their usual seat on the riverbankA flattened patch of grass by a river with a small sign stuck in it.
their way of wiggling their earsA child waiting, delighted, and an adult straining with nothing to show.
whatever luck they had left over that yearA dropped slice of bread landing, as usual, butter side down.
Something not yet theirs 12
the best of the view from any hilltopA figure on a summit with their back to it, arms folded.
the corner seat on every coach they rideA crowded coach and one empty place with a parcel on it.
the first coin they earn in a town they have not seenA purse with one pocket sewn shut and a label on it.
the first snow that falls on their own roofA white street and one bare, dark roof in the middle of it.
the last sweet thing in the pantry, whenever askedA pantry shelf, an empty honey jar, and a spoon still in it.
the naming of their first horseA foal looking over a stall and a bare name board above it.
the prize from the first contest they winA winner's ribbon handed straight on to the empty space beside them.
their next good idea, whatever it turns out to beA figure snapping their fingers, then frowning at the empty air.
their next pair of new shoes, for one eveningA shoebox open and empty on a bed, tissue paper folded back.
the use of their spare room for one night, date unknownA small tidy bedroom, a jug and basin set out, and a pair of unworn slippers by the chair.
whatever is in their left pocket on a day to be namedA pocket turned inside out and tucked back, to be sure.
whatever they catch the next time they go fishingA line in a pond, a bent rod, and something on the hook that is not a fish.
How this list was compiled: Original list written for Draw This Next, October 2026. Every price was made up for this list as a payment, a share, a service or a habit that a character could keep up for life and a reader could draw. Left out on purpose: injuries, illnesses, people, lives, souls and any term from a game. The notes on what to draw are our own suggestions. Licence: own work
Sealed: all 60 sealings
Hands and gestures 12
by clapping once, in a room that clapped backOne figure in an empty hall, hands together, looking round.
by saying yes to a question they had not quite heardA cupped ear, a polite smile, and a pen already moving.
by shaking an empty glove held out on a stickA glove on a stick over a wall and a hand reaching up to it.
Show all 60 sealings (57 more)
Hands and gestures, continued
by sharing a pear, half each, in silenceA pear cut clean down the middle on a wall between two places.
by turning a doormat over and putting it backA mat lifted at one corner and a clean square on the step.
with a bow, returned from farther off than seemed likelyA bow in a lane and a tiny answering bow on the skyline.
with a handshake neither side would end firstTwo clasped hands and one arm trying, politely, to leave.
with a handshake through a looking glassTwo hands meeting at the glass, one of them from the wrong side.
with a nod, which turned out to countA figure mid-nod, eyes widening.
with a wink across a crowded squareOne closed eye, far off, and a crowd between.
with crossed fingers, which were noticedHands hidden behind a back and a long, knowing look from the other chair.
with three knocks on an empty barrelKnuckles on wood and dust jumping off the hoops.
In writing 12
in chalk on a millstoneA chalked line on a great round stone with flour drifted against it.
in pencil, which they were told was just as goodA pencil stub, a long document, and a doubtful look.
in the dust on a mantelpiece, never dusted sinceA shelf with one clean line through years of dust.
in the margin of a newspaper a week out of dateA folded paper with tiny writing down one edge.
on a leaf, which was then let go on the windA single leaf going over a hedge with writing on it.
on a tablecloth, which was then folded and keptA white cloth with writing between the plates and a hostess looking on.
on the back of a receipt for something elseA slip of paper turned over, sums on one side and terms on the other.
with a signature in borrowed inkA pen dipped in someone else's inkwell, held out at arm's length.
with a thumbprint in warm candle waxA red blob on a page with whorls in it, and a thumb being blown on.
with an X, since their hand would not write the restA big careful X and a pen held like a spade.
with one word written on a palm and closed in a fistA fist held up between two faces with ink at the edge of the fingers.
with two sets of initials cut into a gatepostA post with fresh letters and older ones of the same shape below.
With a token 12
by leaving one shoe out in the lane overnightOne shoe in a rut at dawn, turned to face the other way.
by swapping scarvesA figure walking off in a scarf far too long for them.
with a feather stuck in the bark of an oakA single feather upright in a crack of rough bark at head height.
with a horseshoe hung points down on a fenceA fence post with one horseshoe the wrong way up.
with a knot in a length of blue woolA strand of wool between two hands, with a knot neither could have tied alone.
with a pebble passed from one palm to the otherA plain pebble on an open palm, being looked at too seriously.
with a pinch of flour over the left shoulderA white puff in the air behind a figure and a mill behind that.
with a ribbon tied to the tallest thing in sightA ribbon on a flagpole and a figure climbing down, pleased.
with a ring of grass braided on the spotA green ring on a finger, already drying at the edges.
with a string held taut between them and cut in the middleTwo hands, a tight string, and scissors coming down.
with a tune hummed by one and finished by the otherTwo figures back to back, one with a finger raised to keep time.
with a wishbone pulled, the long end to themTwo little fingers hooked round a wishbone, just before the snap.
At a place 12
astride a county line, one foot each sideA boundary stone and a figure standing carefully over it.
at a pupil's desk in a school shut for the holidaysSmall desks, a big figure folded into one, and chalk dust in the light.
at the back of a crowd, during somebody else's speechRows of backs, a speaker far off, and two heads bent together at the rear.
at the end of a pier that was longer that nightPlanks running out into mist past the last post.
at the kitchen table, like any other piece of businessA table with a loaf pushed aside to make room for paper.
at the top of a ladder leaning on nothingA ladder standing in a field with a figure near the top, not looking down.
behind the bakery, before the ovens were litA dark yard, flour sacks, and one figure early for something.
in a hayloft during a hailstormWhite stones bouncing in a doorway and a handshake in the straw.
in a hedge maze, at a turning that is not on the planGreen walls, a bench, and a path the gardener never cut.
in a rowing boat, exactly as far out as it would goOars shipped, flat water all round, and a rope going straight down.
on the top step of a stile, one on each sideA stile in a hedge with a boot on one step and something else opposite.
under a bridge at low waterWet stones, an arch overhead, and two sets of prints meeting.
By accident 12
by accepting a second cup of teaTwo cups, one steaming, and a pot being set down very gently.
by blowing out a candle that was not theirs to blow outA wisp of smoke and a room of faces turning.
by borrowing a pen and forgetting to give it backA pen in a breast pocket with somebody else's teeth marks on it.
by catching something that was thrown to themTwo hands closed on a small bright thing and a face working it out.
by counting to a hundred with their eyes shutA figure facing a tree, hands over eyes, and nobody hiding.
by finishing a sentence the other party had startedTwo speech-shaped gaps in the air, joined in the middle.
by hopping a row of squares they took for hopscotchA foot coming down in the last square and no other players in sight.
by keeping the changeA palm with one coin too many and a shop door already closed.
by laughing at a joke that turned out to be an offerA figure wiping an eye and another holding out a pen.
by picking up a dropped parcel and handing it backA parcel changing hands with rather too much ceremony.
by reading the terms aloud to hear how they soundedA paper held up to the light and a mouth forming the last word.
with a sneeze, which was taken for a yesA figure mid-sneeze and, across the table, a hand already stamping the page.
How this list was compiled: Original list written for Draw This Next, October 2026. Every sealing was made up for this list as a handshake, a signature, a token, a place or an accident of manners, as in a fairy tale. A few borrow everyday luck customs (a wishbone, a horseshoe, a pinch over the shoulder). Rites of a religion or a book of magic were left out on purpose, and none is an instruction. The notes on what to draw are our own suggestions. Licence: own work
Missed one clause: all 60 clauses
How long it runs 12
a year, in it, is counted by the other side's calendarTwo calendars side by side that agree on nothing.
the first payment fell due the day before they agreedA bill with yesterday's date and a polite stamp.
it ends only when both sides forget itA knot in a handkerchief and a second knot beside it.
Show all 60 clauses (57 more)
How long it runs, continued
it had already been running for three yearsA dusty copy of the same contract, found behind a dresser.
it is paused, not ended, by being paid in fullA bill stamped paid and a second bill under it.
it renews every seven years unless ended in personA long road, a small figure with a bag, and a note in hand that says: in person.
it runs for as long as a certain chimney smokesA very healthy chimney and a figure eyeing it.
leap days belong entirely to the other sideA calendar page for the twenty-ninth with a small flag on it.
nothing in it says when it endsA long scroll with the last third still rolled up.
notice to end it must be given a lifetime aheadA letter in an envelope marked not to be opened yet.
time spent asleep does not count toward itA tally on a wall that skips every night.
the word always appears in it nineteen timesA page with the same word ringed again and again in red.
What the other side may do 12
the bargain may be sold on to whoever wants itA stranger at the gate reading from a paper and checking the house.
the other party is to be asked to every family gatheringA long table of relatives and one guest nobody is introducing.
the other party keeps the only copyAn empty hand held out and a drawer closing somewhere else.
the other party may ask one question and must be answeredA raised finger across a table and a long pause.
the other party may borrow anything of theirs for a monthA gap on a tool rack with a polite note pinned in it.
the other party may change one word of it a yearA contract with a neat patch pasted over a single word.
the other party may collect early, in bad weatherA knock at the door and rain coming in sideways.
the other party may read their post firstAn envelope arriving already open, resealed with care.
the other party may send a deputy, of any sizeA doormat with one very small, very muddy print.
the other party may sign for them in small mattersA delivery note signed in a hand that is nearly theirs.
the other party may visit without noticeA spare coat hook by the door, kept empty.
the other party picks where they live, onceA cart of furniture outside a house in a town they do not know.
What they must do 12
they must always use the other party's full titleA figure reading a greeting off a strip of paper that unrolls to the floor.
they must ask leave before moving any of their furnitureA hand on a chair back and a quick look over one shoulder.
they must be on time for everything, from now onA figure running with a sundial under one arm.
they must explain it in full to anyone who asksA crowd on a doorstep and a householder starting again from the top.
they must keep accounts, to be inspected without warningA ledger in careful columns and a magnifying glass lying on it.
they must keep their copy dry, whatever happensA document wrapped in oilcloth held high above a river crossing.
they must laugh at the other party's jokesA strained smile and a hand slapping a knee half a beat late.
they must move away if the other party is ever seenA neighbour pointing over a hedge and a figure already reaching for a trunk.
they must never boast of it, even in their sleepA figure in a nightcap with lips pressed shut and one finger still raised to them.
they must sleep at home on certain nightsA rider turning for home at dusk, well short of the town.
they must stay within a day's walk of where it was madeA map with a neat circle on it and a pin at the middle.
they must wear something of the other party's choosingA fine outfit and one dreadful scarf.
Who else it binds 12
a friend's name is also on it, correctly spelledTwo names at the foot of a page and only one person in the room.
a guest who stays the night is bound until breakfastA spare bed turned down and a small card on the pillow.
any animal they own is counted as having signedA dog, a hen and a pony in a row with an inky paw, claw and hoof.
anyone who hears all of it is part of it tooA listener with fingers in both ears and wide eyes.
it applies to the whole street, as a courtesyA row of front doors, each with the same small brass stud.
it binds anyone who shares their surnameA family tree with a faint line drawn round the whole of it.
it can never be given away, even as a kindnessA paper pushed across a table and sliding back by itself.
it goes with their trade, to whoever takes it up nextA new hand at a workbench, given a scroll along with the tools.
it is inherited by whoever inherits their spectaclesA pair of glasses on a folded will and a small face trying them on.
the landlord was sent a copyA man at the door with a rent book in one hand and a scroll in the other.
whoever sits in their chair takes on a tenth of itA visitor about to sit and a host lunging across the room.
whoever witnessed it stands surety for the lotA friend at the edge of the scene with a slowly dawning look.
What the words turned out to mean 12
the copy they kept is the draftTwo papers, one neat, one with crossings out, and the wrong one framed.
every may in it was a must in the originalTwo copies side by side with one small word ringed in each.
in its first language, gift and loan are one wordA dictionary open at one entry with two meanings underlined.
it counts in dozens where they counted in tensA tally of twelve where a figure had clearly expected ten.
it reads differently by candlelight, and that version holdsA paper held near a flame with a second set of lines showing.
left and right in it are as seen from the other sideA figure holding up both hands and looking from one to the other.
the map attached to it has no northA chart with the compass rose scraped off.
one comma in it decides which of them paysA fingertip under a line of script and a tiny curl of ink.
silence counts as agreement to any changeA letter slid under a door and a figure asleep in a chair.
the small print was on the backA page being turned over for the first time, years late.
the word half means three different amounts in itA pie cut in three unequal pieces with a small flag in each.
the word soon is explained on a page they never gotA stack of numbered sheets with a gap at nine.
How this list was compiled: Original list written for Draw This Next, October 2026. Every clause is about the bargain's own terms (how long it runs, what the other side may do, what they must do, who else it binds, what a word in it means) and was written to read true whatever was asked for, promised or done to seal it. The catches are the comic kind a story can live with: an awkward duty, an uninvited guest, a renewal nobody wanted. The notes on what to draw are our own suggestions. Licence: own work
It left: all 60 signs
On the skin 12
a beauty spot that changes cheek at each new yearA puzzled friend pointing at one cheek, then at the other.
a date in small numerals behind one earHair worn long on one side only.
a dimple that shows only when they bend the truthA cheek being covered with one casual hand.
Show all 60 signs (57 more)
On the skin, continued
a handprint on one shoulder, as if from a clap on the backA shirt hung to dry with a faint five-fingered mark showing through.
a signature that is not theirs, inside the left wristA cuff pulled down a little too often.
a small cold spot in the middle of one palmA handshake and the other person glancing down in surprise.
a streak of white in their hair, exactly a finger wideA dark head with one pale line, combed carefully over.
a thumbprint whose whorl turns backwardA thumb pressed on a windowpane and looked at sideways.
an ink stain on one thumb that never washes offA thumb held away from a clean white shirt.
one ear folded at the tip like the corner of a marked pageAn ear in close-up, its tip turned down like a page somebody means to find again.
one eye a shade lighter than the otherA portrait where the painter has mixed two different paints for the eyes.
one eyebrow that sits higher, permanently interestedA face that seems to be asking a question while asleep.
Worn or carried 12
a coat that comes out of any trunk without a creaseA coat shaken out of a crammed trunk, smooth as if just pressed.
a hat that tips itself to certain strangersA hat brim lifting with nobody's hand near it.
a pencil that sharpens itself overnightA pencil pot at dawn with fresh shavings round it.
a plain ring stuck fast on one fingerA finger, a bar of soap, and a look of long experience.
a pocket that leaks a little sand, whatever they wearA thin pale line on the road behind a walker, straight as a ruled margin.
a satchel that is never quite shut, however it is buckledA bag with three straps done up and a corner of paper still poking out.
a scarf that is always slightly dampA scarf on a line indoors with a small puddle under it.
a small bell on their belt that rings when payment is dueA hand clapped to a belt at a dinner table as every head turns.
a stub of sealing wax that turns up in every drawerA row of identical red stubs lined up on a shelf.
a walking stick that points one way when droppedA stick on the ground and a figure sighing at where it points.
a watch that keeps the other side's time, not theirsTwo watches on one chain, an hour and some years apart.
shirt cuffs that are covered in sums by eveningA laundress holding a white shirt up to the light and reading the sleeve.
Something that follows them 12
a chair pulled out for them wherever they goA crowded bench and one stool sliding out from a table by itself.
a faint smell of new paper wherever they have satA visitor sniffing at an empty armchair.
a pen laid ready on every table they sit down atA picnic cloth on a hillside, plates and cups, and one pen laid square beside the bread.
a queue that always lets them through, looking puzzledA line of people stepping aside without knowing why.
a second, smaller set of footprints beside theirs in mudA wet lane, one walker, and two lines of prints.
a small polite cough from the next room, wherever they stayA reader with a book lowered, looking hard at a bedroom wall.
change that is always counted out twice before they get itA shopkeeper counting coins into a palm, then starting again.
doors that hold themselves open for them and nobody elseA door open on a windy day and the next person finding it shut.
ink that dries the moment they finish a lineA page with no blots at all and a blotter still clean.
post that reaches them at addresses they never gaveAn envelope on the mat of a rented room on the first morning.
the same number on every ticket they are givenThree tickets fanned in one hand, coach, cloakroom and playhouse, and a 9 on every one.
shop scales that tip a hair toward them, every timeA grocer tapping a brass pan and frowning.
At home 12
a bed that is always made, whoever slept in itSmooth sheets at dawn and a sleeper standing beside them, yawning.
a blank page near the middle of every book they ownA shelf of books, each with a ribbon at the same place.
a brass plate by the door with nothing on it yetA shining plate, four screws, and a householder polishing it anyway.
a cupboard always one shelf fuller than they left itA pantry door open and a jar nobody bought.
a doorstep worn down on one side by someone waitingA stone step with a hollow where nobody in the house ever stands.
a floorboard that creaks a moment before they tread on itA foot in the air over a board and a wince already on the face.
a key on a hook in the pantry that fits nothing they ownA large old key on a hook and a figure trying it in a cupboard, without hope.
a kitchen fire that has not gone out sinceA grate glowing in an empty kitchen and no coal scuttle anywhere.
a second letterbox in the door, lower downA door with two brass flaps, one at knee height.
a wet coat on the hall peg that belongs to nobodyA row of dry coats and one dripping onto the boards.
an empty picture frame nobody remembers hangingA frame with nothing in it and a clean patch of wallpaper behind.
one windowpane at home that shows the wrong seasonSnow through one pane and roses through the rest.
Harder to explain 12
a birthday that comes a day later every yearA card on a mantelpiece with the date crossed out and corrected, twice.
a dislike of round numbers that they cannot explainA stallholder holding up ten apples and a customer handing one back.
a habit of holding out a hand to shake in their sleepA sleeper with one arm out of the blankets, hand open, waiting.
a nose for the small print in everythingA nose almost touching a shop notice.
a promise that keeps itself, whatever they intendedA figure halfway out of the door being walked back in by their own feet.
a shiver whenever someone says the word freeA market crier mid-shout and one shopper pulling their collar up.
a slight echo on the word yesA speech bubble with a fainter one behind it.
a sneeze whenever anyone nearby breaks a promiseA handkerchief out and a guilty face across the room.
a way of adding weather permitting to every promiseTwo friends shaking on a plan and one of them raising a finger.
an itch in the writing hand whenever a pen is nearFingers flexing above an inkwell in a shop window.
fingers that will no longer crossA hand trying, behind a back, and failing.
the sense, at every sum, of being checkedA figure adding a column with one eye on the window.
How this list was compiled: Original list written for Draw This Next, October 2026. Every sign was made up for this list and is small, painless and visible: a mark on the skin, something worn or carried, something that follows them, something at home or an odd habit. Left out on purpose: wounds, illnesses and any term from a game. The notes on what to draw are our own suggestions. Licence: own work
How it works
This warlock backstory generator deals one bargain in six parts: the other party, the request, the price, the sealing, the clause they missed and the sign it left. The other party is odd and harmless, never wicked. Text only.
Read the full guide
A bargain, not a gift
A warlock in stories strikes a deal for what they want, so every part here belongs to one contract. The other party is an old crow with a ledger or the last star before dawn, and the request is small and human: rain for one dry valley, a head for figures.
The catch drives the plot
The fifth part is the clause nobody read, such as the small print was on the back. Begin the story there. The sixth is the sign the bargain left, which belongs in every drawing of them.
Draw the sign before the face. A plain ring stuck fast on one finger says a deal was done.
Stage the sealing as one panel: two parties, one gesture, the other side half out of frame.
Keep the other party polite. A creditor who never blinks is easier to draw than a monster, and funnier.
Questions and answers
What does the word warlock mean?
It most likely comes from an Old English word, wǣrloga, that meant a breaker of oaths or a deceiver. This page uses the storybook sense: somebody who made a bargain for something they wanted and now lives by its terms.
Can I use it as a witch backstory generator?
Yes. No list calls the bargainer he or she, and a bargain suits a witch as well as a warlock. If the magic was there from birth, the sorcerer backstory generator fits better.
Who does the warlock bargain with?
Something strange and harmless, described and never named: a tall woman who buys Tuesdays, a mole with a very large map, a sunset that has been running late all week. None is taken from a religion, a book of magic or a game.
Does it follow the rules of a tabletop game?
No. There are no spells, levels or dice here, and no term that belongs to one rule book. The six parts are plain story, so they sit under any character sheet or none.