In the end, gentle reader, my mother's dimensional magic was never put to the test that day, because unfortunately, she had underestimated how stubborn old Renjaf really was. She had already returned many times to tend his grounds, grow the flowers, clean his pond and even reshape and repair his stone walls, all with her druid magic, but through it all, the stone wall that was Renjaf himself remained unmoved. She offered to get his delivery for him. He refused. She offered to make sure his next five, ten, twenty demon-affected deliveries got through. He still refused. She said she was prepared to do it even if it was a Greater Demon from the lower planes, and it meant risking her life just to bring him a few groceries. Still, he refused. "But that means you'll have to get it yourself," she pointed out, "and you hate leaving your tower!" "Yes," he agreed, "I do! But I'd rather do that than accept help from you or anyone else! But by all means, keep coming back here with more harebrained ideas on how to win me round." "Why not just tell me what you want and then I can do whatever it is?" "Because what I want is to keep denying you. I want you to keep coming here, trying your heart out to get that book and I want to be here, standing in your way every time." "But…but why would you do that?" "Because I might not be able to see much, these days, but I can see the pain on your face very clearly. Because I enjoy seeing that look. Because knowing I am standing in the way of your dreams and ambitions, the way everyone stood in the way of mine, gives me life! And if the occasional trip into town means I get all that, then it's a price I'm willing to pay, and you will never, ever get what you want!" With that, he once again slammed the door in her face. Hard.