"seventeen seconds to terminal action!"

After some frantic scrabbling in your pocket, you pull out the small card that Gougehook gave you. Now it is obvious why a weerd linguistic phrase like "the adjective of nown" is written on a small plastic card.

"sixteen seconds to terminal action!"

Quickly you slip the card into the slot and push down, hoping that the goblins did indeed steel the right card to get through the door.

"fifteen sec ---"

Abruptly, the green lights stop flashing, and the deep unpleasant voice halts mid word. A moment later you here a clunk from inside the door, and the voice speaks again, this time at normal volume (though stil at a depth that makes Barry White sound like the chip monks).

"spell accepted, gramma confirmed. Please continue"

With a hiss of hydraulics the door swings open and you blink at the sudden spill of bright, normal electric light that sweeps across the floor towards you like an extremely friendly tide.

What sounds far less friendly however is the cracked, old voice that lances out of the light and does nasty things to your ears.

"come in dearie, I've got some lovely ways to kill you"

You take a deep breath and wish you had something gurd worthy for your loins and a decent weapon, in fact even a bad weapon would improve on your current position. Clearly, behind that huge metal door is the twisted old hag who's magical doughnut brought you to this bizarre and deadly dungeon.

You glance back, but you have litle choice but to enter.

The first impression you get is one of frilly tassles, the next is the rather more expected impression of an evil, sadistic magician who rules a dark and diabolic domain.

Behind the door, stretches a wide electrically lit room full of tasteful furniture, pretty and slightly old fashioned chalm, and implements of death and magic!

The floor is covered by a thickk floral patterned carpet in a pale but unpleasant shade of pink, but the stains that mark various areas are very obviously blood. along one wall sits a set of ornate wooden shelves, and ontop of some rather frilly doilies and tassled fringes are planely a wide array of potion ingredience, dried herbs, various sorts of bones, and a number of grusome looking liquids, disconcertingly bubling away in old brown derby tea pots or willow patterned bowls.

Across another wall are hanging a collection of objects that at first you can't identify, but then you realize they are an entire goblin folk group's worth of medeval torture devices all decked out with fringed lacy tassles, or hung with quilted cloths. You see a pair of iron boots thickly studded with brutal looking wheels, each painted with a soppy bunny rabbit with pink ears. a pair of thumbscrews sit in pink silk lined plush boxes, while a set of various sized knives are kneetly arranged on a frilly white cloth embroidered with leaves and roses.

Hung at the end of the row is a puzling item which after a moment you realize is a hefty iron ball and chain, with what is apparently a patchwork teacosy draped over the spiky ball.

Delicate curtains and tapestries cover the walls, and over in one corner stands a blackened iron cauldren big enough to bathe in, ---- with a pair of flowered ovan mits set neetly on it's rim.

the room is lit by a set of very ordinary electric lamps which lirk on small wooden tables in a couple of corners, sitting beside rose patterned dishes containing what look suspiciously like severed human fingers, and a number of unpleasantly spiky and tentacular plants bound around with bright strips of ribbon.

All this monstrous fluffy death however you take in at a single glance, for the instant your feet touch the abominably pink carpet, your attention is rivited to the old lady sitting on a thrown of what looks suspiciously like solid gold (among a large heap of lace fringed cushions).

Sure enough, this is the old woman who gave you the diabolic doughnut, though now there is absolutely no mistaking her true profession as a distinctly unpleasant witch of the king murdering, child baking, princess heart eating variety. from her black pointed hat to her black pointed carpet slippers, (not to mention her black pointed finger nales), she's every inch the worst crone you could possibly imagine.
"Hay you!"

you begin indignantly. The witch lays aside her knitting (which seems to be a long blood red scarf ornamented with human skulls), and with a creaking of joints and a swirl of black dress stands up to face you.

"now dearie, why so upset? didn't you enjoy my dungeon?"

"No you old, ---- mmmm"

Remarks fail you for a second.

"---- witch!"

"Oh that's a shame dearie. You have done so well, usually people ends up dead far earlier than this, ---- such a lovely thing to watch while I do my knitting!"

You feel the righteous wrath burning like a tide.

"watch! you mean all this has just been for amusement? The monsters, the traps, everything!"

"Oh yes dearie. At my time of life there's nothing as nice as seeing young people die in horrific ways"

the old hag gives you a highly unpleasant, speculating look.

"now, how is sugarina going to deal with you, ---- oh it does make a change to have a live victim. Nobody visits me anymore you know"

Just as your trying to entangle the bad intentions from the inane prattle, sugarina starts a rapid hobble towards the wall of torture implements, runing a proud eye over the array of spikes, hooks, blades and elaborate needlework.

"Oh, there's some of these I haven't used for such a long time ---- those dear litle nostrel tweasers for instance ---- "

you deffinately think this is time for some affirmative action. While you are firmly against striking litle old ladies, having your nostrels tweasered by a powerful witch is clearly quite another matter. Summoning all your strength, and a good tide of fury based on all those long stone corridors and near death escapes, you take a couple of rapid steps forward and let fly with your best right cross at the back of Sugarina's grey bun.

Smoothly, the old woman turns aside from your blow as though she has eyes in the back of her head (which actually would not be impossible), slipping away from the punch so that you quickly have to recover your balance.

"so, strike a defenseless old wwoman would you, ---- young people today"

she breaks off for a round of grandmotherly tutting.

"I'll have to do something about that"

Sugarina raises one palm upwards, and an indistinct mass of misty, amorphus green light gathers above her hand and poles streight towards your head.

quickly you bend your kneees and duck to the carpeted floor, but the enchantress only points a finger downwards and the mass of greenish smoky stuff starts descending towards you. You roll aside, but with another prod of her bony finger the witch redirects the spell once again.

You need to do something fast, sinse the magic is closing and you really don't want to find out what Sugarina will decide to do to you.

if you have the two ring go here.

if you dont go here.

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