How Much Rope Does Zingiber Need To Hang Herself With Before Ling Stops Giving It To Her? - Blog Posts

WLC 6.C: Or Not Sexy

Having defeated the witches in honorable combat, Ling now has the chance to explore their lair.

Wasting no time, Ling crawls from the bedchamber back to the main room and enters the next corridor clockwise. These tunnels are as unsafe to navigate as the rooms are: misaligned walls, ceiling overhangs, random steps in the floor.

In the chamber Ling chose arbitrarily, she discovers a yellow-furred minotaur clad in leather armor lying amongst piles of random junk.

"Sheriff Honeycrisp?" asks Ling, "What the- How long have ya been down here?" Ling approaches and shakes the bull.

The sheriff is neither dead nor asleep, but trapped in magical stasis. As he would become an issue in-and-of himself, Ling decides to simply make a note of him.

L: Sleeping bruty would have to wait.

Silently scurrying, Ling looks for another passage. After discovering the kitchen, toilet, and a braintree arboretum, Ling stumbles upon a portal chamber. The dark spiraling tentacled maw shines an unnatural light onto the ceiling.

"Wait there, Dr. Ling," echoes a deep baritone in Ling's mind, "I have been expecting you." As Ling tries to think questions the voice answers them. "I am the entity those witches have attempted to sacrifice children to. Worry not, for I am holding them safe in a private subdomain. However, I cannot safely return them yet; unless I place them back in this specific cave with their kidnappers, they will be flung randomly into your plane. The contract I have mistakenly made must be undone as the trio have gleefully misrepresented my will. Connive a means for them to violate the pact (of which you must uncover yourself) and I shall strip them of the boons they have misused. Be warned, they have studied further arcana; at no point will they truly be defanged. I am asking a lot of you, but I will give you the proof you seek, for I am the teacher you were told of: the missing total six girls and a boy." The vortex adjusts showing Ling the missing children held in a weave of tentacles, eyes, and teeth. "Destroy this coven where my prior agent could not, Wizard Lizard, and I shall reward you."

Ling steps back out of the room, contemplating on both how to confront the coven and how much faith this elder god can afford.

J: And you trusted that? L: It was right; Hanzy was the only boy missing. I was still holding out hope that it was all a misunderstanding and no one was actually evil.

"What're ya prowling around for?" asks a tired Gudrun cloaked only in darkness, causing Ling to jump.

"Water," says Ling, recovering, "Forgot my water."

"Why'd ya come here?" asks Gudrun, low-key irritation growing in her voice.

An idea forms in Ling's mind. "Something called me," she says softly, walking ever closer to the dwarf, "Dark, dangerous." She stops right in Gudrun's face, "Deep." She licks the dwarf's ear. "Do ya feel it down here?"

Gudrun attempts to respond, but emotions and exhaustion cut off all attempts. She sputters, red in the face. Fortunately for her, it is at this exact moment that Zingiber prances into the scene.

"What are you two up to?" she sings, "Ready for round two?"

J: Do you really have to talk about this in front of Dalini. L: She's not listening to this story anyway. Not since ya put that huge cake in front of her. D: CAKE CAKE CAKE NOM CAAAKE L: Great parenting, by the way.

"Always, but I've got a question: what are ya beauties doing down here?" Ling says backing away from Gudrun. "Most witches I know stay clear of the Underdank."

"We're working with someone special," says Zingiber, "He's kind of a pain, though. He speaks in riddles and code. He'll say not to do things when he clearly wants us to do them. The eldritch are silly like that."

Ling nods along. "When's your mate showing up?"

"I guess I can message her; she'll want to meet ya." Gudrun heads back to the bedchamber. "Zinj, ya watch her."

"Absolutely!" shouts Zingiber, "I can show her all my cool murder and torture spells." The elf dances about, like a schoolgirl or an electrified worm.

"Ripper," mutters Ling, her hope bitterly dying.