"Maybe," Hammond allows. "But if you can clean up the long-term effects with druids, nuclear weapons are 'only' huge explosions. There are a few ways I could think of to deal with that. Again, I'm not supposed to suggest things, but there was this other world I worked with a while ago ..."
"So they had been relying on an increasing amount of nuclear power. No weapons — they were weird people, not anything you'd recognize as a 'country' exactly, and if anyone had proposed building a nuclear weapon they probably would have gotten sent to a hospital — but they had a serious energy problem because their world was going through an ice age and they refused to burn large amounts of coal for ideological reasons. Anyway, they had all this nuclear waste to deal with. And they had been burying it in geologically stable salt mines, but when I was interviewing people about magic, someone asked for nuclear waste to become the food of choice for a set of culturally important spiritual creatures."
"Well, they started selling the nuclear waste to the creatures — like I said, weird people; even their mythological creatures were willing to trade for things — and eventually they actually had to spin up more nuclear plants because the price of nuclear waste rose due to demand. Eventually, you couldn't find a scrap of nuclear waste anywhere on the planet, because it was all being sold off in exchange for magic gadgets."
"Of course, that's not the only world that had a similar problem, and their solutions can end up quite different. This other place, everyone was very concerned with privacy, and their magic ended up making it very easy to create isolated demiplanes, that weren't connected to their planet through normal space. The planet eventually ended up an irradiated nuclear wasteland, but only because nobody really minded because they had all moved into custom extraplanar bunkers."
Hammond shakes his head and refocuses on Bonnie.
"Anyway, forgive an old Walrus his ramblings. You were talking about nuclear weapons?"