The mages and adventurers ran through the tunnels and rooms of Jorteg’s Dungeon, loud and full of childish joy. Their destination?

“TO THE KITCHEN!” Medith shouted to the front members of the flock, some of whom had ran a bit too far and were about to run into another tunnel.

“But, I want to show the adventurers our bedrooms!” a short witch complained, tugging along an enamored and flustered Darmon.

“Later!” Medith replied. “I’m going to give them Honeycrust Cake!”

“Honeycrust Cake?” one of the wizards perked up, mouth opening and eyes widening as if another magnificent magic spell had been cast on him.

“Honeycrust Cake!” Medith reiterated, giddy with excitement.

A murmur of “Honeycrust Cake?” and “Honeycrust Cake!” spread among the members of the running flock, and they excitedly closed in around their cook Medith, following her lead down a different tunnel further ahead.

Somewhere in the back of the flock ran another short human being. This one wasn’t a witch though. It was Elrith, wheezing but awake now, and most of all, she was as gay with humor and excitement as anyone else present. “I can’t believe this is happening!” The woman let out through breaths.

“I know!” Gilda ran besides her, along with Rulli who was following close to his wife. They all had their torches in hand. “We’ve been invited to eat cake in Jorteg’s Dungeon! Who else do you know that this sort of thing happens to?”

Dwarven axes, Darmon’s sword, shield, and helmet – all of that had been left behind, as well as many of the mage’s wands. The possibility of new and pleasurable experiences occupied everyone’s mind, as well as the urge to connect more, and bond more.

“I still can’t understand I’m alive” Elrith smiled with wonder at, well, all of it – the whole situation.

“I don’t understand it either” Gilda smiled with similar wonder.

“Our mage is inexplicable” Rulli commented, his own smile surrounded by his mighty thick red moustache and beard. “But, incredible!”

Wonder was in the air, wonder was in their minds, wonder about what would happen next – for anything could happen. Suddenly, their world had been uprooted and a surprise equally fundamental, metaphysical, and existential had replaced it. The familiar life of adventure, danger, animosity – in an instant it had all more or less evaporated. Now they all chased possibility, metaphorically in their wide-open consciousness, and actually with the running of their feet heading for a dungeon’s kitchen.

Down a tunnel, into a longer one, up a set of stairs, taking a left turn – and like that they all rushed into another cavernous room, this one not particularly tall but wide like a big kitchen should be. Along one wall, just behind carved stone that was as tall as Rum’s legs, rushed a small subterranean river. Starting at the other end of the room from where they’d entered, the water fell out of the mountain wall from a hole above Rum’s height. Flowing along the wall, it ended in a drop through another hole that disappeared into the mountain depths and out of sight. Everyone, not just Rum, marveled at the running water as they first entered, a weak light shining up along the riverbed, and creating a blue ambiance all along that side of the room.

Like one big flock they came into the kitchen. A few stragglers forming the flock’s tail, including Elrith, Gilda, and Rulli.

As Rum’s eyes managed to depart from the river, he took note of the rest of the room. 3 rows of kitchen counters went along the center and against the wall opposite of the blue light leg-tall river. On the far other end of the room were 2 other tunnels, one going into what Rum presumed to be some storage area, and the other, now that he walked up closer to it, seemed to lead through a brief tunnel into some kind of dining hall with long tables of stone and cushioned stone chairs.

Along the wall they’d come from were what looked like stoves and what Rum guessed to be some form of cooking surfaces, but without the telling signs of anywhere to put wood or coal. Kinda figures though. For how would they all get rid of the smoke and not choke? Above the kitchen counters adjacent the wall opposite the river were mountain-carved chest-high alcoves filled with jars of spices, kitchen utensils, cooking pots, pans, and baking equipment. Except for a few spots carved out from the grey stone under the kitchen counters – the counters’ surfaces consisting of a different polished stone of white with black dots – there were no more storage spaces in the kitchen. No cabinets, no shelves. This kitchen was entirely built out of stone, all of it, either carved from the mountain or likely imported, the latter Rum judging to as the case for the counter surfaces. Altogether, the kitchen had an aesthetic of open space, and solid build. There was a rawness and coldness to it. But a beauty too, in the extreme durability of it all, and its melding with the environment.

As Rum’s eyes curiously looked about the place, his body bent down to take in the details below, and straightened up to stand on his toes as he stared into the back end of the alcoves and over into the dark origins of the hole pouring water. Meanwhile, Medith had already begun collecting bowls made of wood onto the counters, and was about to disappear into the storage room. Elrith, Gilda, and Rulli all looked around, their wonderous glances casting about the interesting kitchen. Far in front of the trio, Darmon was being guided around arm-in-arm with his new witch friend, or is that more than friend? Rum mentally questioned the sight in a moment of glancing. It’s quite too soon to determine I suppose, but those two have stuck to each other like magnets so far.

“Anything I can help with, Medith?” a witch asked the cook as the latter returned from the storage room, carrying among things a large jar full of dark yellow honey.

While a few volunteers rallied to help their cook, several of the witches and wizards started to give each other seductive looks, and before Rum had even noticed what was going on, there were already several kissing couples forming, and new lines forming next to a popular witch and wizard. As Rum came to stand near the far wall from whence they’d all come, close to the outpouring water, he gave the smoochers some curious glances, while also glancing at the cook and her crew getting to work.

From one of his glances towards the former, the Great Mage saw 3 wizards getting together with a witch to form a quartet. Originally there’d only been 1 wizard, monopolizing her flesh with greedy deep kisses, but when he caught the hungry eyes of his fellow male mages, he said something to the witch who’d been enjoying his affection. Soon, and with barely a few words spoken, all the men surrounded the witch, the woman looking flustered to be in such high demand. They each went for one part of the witch, one area to shower in kisses. Then, in-between Rum glancing over at the cook and eyeing the mixing of ingredients into a bowl, they’d all moved – all the 3 men had rotated positions around the woman. That’s efficient distribution, the Great Mage could not help but remark mentally. As he stared for almost a minute, one man tapped the shoulder of the man right of him, and that man tapped the third man, and they rotated again. Now, one man burrowed his lips deep in the right cavety of the woman’s neck, while another moved in for the left side, taking a softer approach with several small soft kisses along the thin skin. The third grasped her cheeks gently in his hands, and joined lips with lips, wizard with witch, and the woman offered soft moans through her tongue-plunged mouth. They’re maximizing the use of erogenous zones through parallell treatment, and keeping the excitement up with the rotation of roles. I must appreciate such good instincts for system-building and maximized surface area utility.

Watching the other couples engaging in the kissing frenzy, Rum produced a yawning “aaaawh” as his his jaw widened, and he started to feel sleepy. It’s been a rough day. Maybe I should take this opportunity to relax while the cake and the love is being made. Leaning into the smoothened rock wall, Rum slowly let his knees bend until he gently dropped to his butt on the floor. He felt the hard surface for a sleepy while, before leaning forward, turning his torso about, and touching the stone, letting out a “Softify”. He glanced to his butt next, and he leaned forward a little more before bringing his hands down and muttering another “Softify” to the floor under him. He leaned back against mountain. That’s better. Lifting a hand in the air, he cast “Magic Blanket”, grabbing the conjured fabric and wrapping it over himself, closing his eyes. He drifted towards unconsciousness.

A minute or two passed, then he felt something. A touch? He felt a touch on his left leg. Slowly he opened his eyes. There was – Elrith? The woman had a calm face to her, but was looking at him, her stare full of intent. “I’m also tired, and you look soft.” She looked down at his belly and magical blanket. “May I sleep on you?” She moved her eyes back up and met his with an expression of hope and innocence. Never before had it crossed Rum’s mind, but right there and then, he realized that this woman – Elrith The Heart-Piercer – could, actually, look rather cute. It was in her own boyish way of course, with her brown leather vest, and moss green linen pants, and the untidy hair of an adventurer, but this expression of hers, her mild manner, and that mere question she’d asked. The wizard took a moment to take in her appearance more clearly. She had deeply dark brown half-long hair, it was roughled up. Her eyes, they were brown. She had some roundness to her cheeks, but also a strong jawline to her chin. Not quite what one would judge inherently cute. Yet, in this moment, her boyish features seemed to melt away before Rum, creating something else. Something is different about her, it’s like... not a girl, no... she’s more like... A DOG! That’s what she’s like. She’s kinda behaving like a pet, like a puppy come for some snuggles. Rum nodded, and lifted the magic blanket to the side, giving her space to move in. And, much like a doggy, even walking on all her fours, she crawled over to his body. First between his legs, and then up his chest, where she lay down her head, pulled her knees up towards her own chest and curled up, closing her eyes. He yanked the blanket up in the air over her, and it fell down, covering her curled form and his legs. He put his left hand on her back as she rested there on her side. He stroked her back gently up and down for a while. A little doggy in my lap. He moved his fingers up her back, up until he came to her neck, where he lifted his hand and proceeded to dive his fingers, spreading them out and into her hair. A few seconds of moving his fingers across her scalp and she moaned a little at the head massage. “Mmmh.” It was soft, the mere whisper of a sound. And just like that his party leader had turned into a snuggly little cutie. The woman drifted off, with the massage, off towards unconsciousness, towards sleep. Minutes passed, and soon Rum too drifted back towards unconsciousness. His tangled fingers withdrew tiredly from her hair, and he gave her form a simple embrace that they could both fall asleep with.

Time passed as they rested, their surroundings leaving them largely unbothered. The kissing folk made little sounds to disturb the duos rest. Meanwhile the chatter and clinking of pots coming from the kitchen remained tolerable, if a little disturbing. But they were both just so tired, it didn’t really matter. They drifted off, deeper and deeper into sleep, and perhaps would’ve slept for several hours together, if not the sudden: “CAKE! The cake is done! Adventurer’s come, taste my cake!” The announcement brought Rum back to the edge of consciousness, where he ever so slightly, and with an involuntary complaint from his brain, opened his eyes halfway. In his arms he saw the shape of Elrith, snoozing under the blanket, her head so close to his that his beard touched her hair. She had rolled over to the other side at some point in her sleep, and had it not been for Rum’s arms she likely would’ve rolled out of his lap altogether. It would’ve been an uncomfortable way for her to wake up that way, as her skin would’ve gradually gotten closer to and eventually touched the cold stone floor.

“Uaaaawh” Rum yawned. He looked over at Medith, who was waving and calling out for people to gather, standing over a long tray of brownish crust glazed in yellow. He looked down again. Well, isn’t this a predicament. He could wake up Elrith cutely sleeping in his lap, or he could, somehow, let her continue sleeping. I suppose it’d be difficult to ingest cake while asleep, and for me to get out of this without waking her. He brought a hand to her cheek, carassing it like he would a dog, and leaned in towards her left ear. “Hey” he whispered, “the dungeon cook wants us to taste her cake.” She didn’t respond. “Elrith–” he continued at a slightly more normal level, “–there’s cake! We should try the cake! We’re in a dungeon Elrith, we shouldn’t be sleeping here anyways.” The small human, ever so slowly, ever so gradually, opened her eyes. She turned around to look up into Rum’s bearded face. “You up for trying the dungeon’s cake?” He returned her drowsy stare with a smile. She didn’t respond, but leaned up from her resting on his belly and chest, and came to a sitting position across his lap, the blanket wrapped around her. With her sleepy eyes she glanced towards the center of the kitchen. She didn’t yawn, but after a little moment of taking in the sight of a giant cake stretched across the kitchen counter nearest them, and taking in all the people flocking to see it, many of them witches and wizards with gleefully excited expressions, she eventually pulled the blanket off her and made an effort to stand. She leaned a hand against Rum’s leg first, then his shoulder. She steadied herself to a slighty hunched standing position. She shuffled over towards the cake, like a little sleepy zombie attracted to sugar. With Elrith gone, Rum made an effort to stand as well, leaning against the softified mountain wall. As he came to his feet, he began walking too, being somewhat less sleepy-faced than the woman who’d used him for a bed.

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“You gonna cut it!?” a roundcheeked, cake-staring, and nearly salivating witch asked Medith.

“Yes, but, you have all tasted my Honeycrust Cake many times.” The dungeon cook began. “So, I’d like our adventurers to go first.” She saw Rum, as he came to a stop behind a couple of excited wizards eyeing Medith’s hand, which held a large cake shovel hovering over the sugary enormity. “In fact, I’d like The Great Mage to try it first” she giggled, and pointed the cake shovel straight past the couple of wizards and right at Rum’s face, as if challenging him to eat.

All eyes turned to look at Rum. A small sea of expectant, hungry faces. Their stares breathless with the intensity of someone who hadn’t tasted cake in a hundred years, and was now made to wait even longer – all due to him. Not that they were angry of course, they were all as gay as before. But the sheer weight of those expectant eyes upon him, that desire, that yearning to be let loose – on cake – that created a force Rum could practically feel on his own face. He straightened some, suddenly feeling a lot less sleepy. “Of course, I will give it a taste” he smiled. A few of the others smiled with him, but most just kept up their staring, even following Rum with their eyes as he brushed past the wizards in front of him, and found his way through the gathered people and to the thick, steaming hot, wide and long rectangular crust of flour and egg and glazed honey.

With a bit of joy as she looked down at the cake Medith the dungeon cook slashed down with the side of her cake shovel, cutting the first strip into it. Quickly, the shovel rose, and then it came down again, making two parallell lines into what turned out to be a much more doughy interior than Rum would’ve first guessed. Finally, she stabbed the cake with the flat end of her cake shovel, and like that, she’d made a big, fat, square cut into the cake. She retrieved the shovel from her stab, and used it again, but this time sliding the shovel under the slice, and lifting it up before Rum. Another witch handed her a plate with a spoon, and Medith accepted it without looking, only smiling at Rum as she placed the cake on top of the plate, and handed it graciously over the counter.

The Great Mage accepted the plate, and, with the full intensity of every eye upon him, picked up the spoon, scooping up a piece of the cake. He lifted the piece up with the spoon, and moved it towards his lips, careful not to hit his moustache and make his face all slimy. Parting his lips, the cake entered, and a crunch occured as his tongue compressed the substance and the spoon slid out, not a speck of cake left on it. In his mouth, Rum tasted the cake carefully, taking several long seconds, before finally swallowing. “It is sweet, which is unsurprising given the name.” He nodded to Medith and the others gathered. “I think I prefer the doughy center, but I must say the honey sure is rich.” He smiled broader and started to retreat from the eyes all around.

“Me next!” shouted a witch, the same person who had handed Medith the plate and spoon. She stood next to the cook now, with her a own plate and spoon, as ready as can be.

“He he” Medith laughed at the eagerness. “Well, for handing me the plate and spoon I suppose I could give you a little special treatment” and she cut and stabbed the cake again, producing another big slice of cake, which she gave the expectant witch whose eyes were wide with amazement. “Now” Medith said after the cake-hungry witch had ran off to enjoy her yellow-brown treasure, “the adventurers first. I want all of their opinions, all of their first experiences. That would make me happy, as cook.”

Rum went back to where he’d been largely asleep, and ate the cake slowly, savouring the moment of both the cake playing its sweetness on his tongue, and the funny sight of all the dungeon’s people eagerly getting their portions and running off to eat. He noticed that as a few of the witches and wizards who’d been making out got their cakes, the people were discovering increasingly creative ways of enjoying their new fun. Some decided to simply feed each other, either by turn, or in some clumsy cases attempting to feed each other simultaneously, the arms of two people crossed over, while spoons from opposite plates went into the mouth of a partner. In other circumstances, a wizard would steal a bit of a witch’s cake, and she would leap to his lips with her own, digging inside his mouth with her tongue to steal her cake back. It was all a game of course, but Rum chuckled a little as he watched it go on. As the feast proceeded and everyone had a plate full of cake, either as their first portion or their second, the cake games began to ramp up in creativity. A middle-aged witch decided, with the help of her fellow collaborators, to pull off her robe and wollen underwear, and to lay down – tits up – on one of the unused kitchen counters. Soon, Medith came over with a slice in her cake shovel. Arriving at the naked witch’s side, the witch cook reached out with her slice and placed it right in-between two large round naked tits. “It appears we are out of plates, mages” she giggled, and the cake slid off the shovel as she pulled it back. “AND SPOONS! What a pity, I suppose you’ll just have to fondle the food into your greedy mouths.”

No less than 6 such greedy mouths instantly assembled around the naked form of the woman, who was laughing wildly at the sight of all the hungry eyes upon her.

“Don’t laugh Mivalla” spoke one of the assembled witches, “the delicious cake will slide off your tits if your chest shakes like that.”

Mivalla didn’t stop right away, but, over the course of a dozen seconds, did manage to slowly calm her whole body from shaking wildly with laughter. Finally, when she looked reasonably calm and the cake hadn’t slid down her belly yet, a wizard reached out with a couple of fingers, putting them together to form a finger-shovel of his own making. He pressed the fingers down through the cake until he touched the woman’s skin, then he did the same thing a couple of times more at adjacent areas while everyone watched. It appeared he’d achieved cutting a little piece off the slice with his cake dirtied fingers. Finally, he scooped up the piece of cake and brought it to his mouth, producing a “mmm” as it went inside and hit his tongue. After that, 3 more hands reached out to do the same, everyone finger-cutting the glazed cake and poking their fingers into the skin between Mivalla’s big naked tits, which after a few more greedy pokes began to shake again with giggles.

Medith came with another slice, placing this one also on the woman’s tits, but in a position resting more on the right tit than merely in-between them. And that became an invitation for more tit-poking.

Inspired by Mivalla’s volunteering for cake plate, another witch found herself wanting to do the same. However, as the woman walked up towards another free counter space, she decided that she’d put a twist on it – she would lay tits down. “Put it on my butt” she told Medith as the cook eyed another naked witch on her kitchen counters. Medith raised an eyebrow, but shrugged, and walked back to the full cake, cut it, and came over with the slice, putting it on the slightly younger woman’s left buttcheek. “And another on the right side, please” requested the new naked cake plate, smacking her own right buttcheek. Seeing the newly invented plate-substitute on display, a crowd of men and women gathered around for a new source of cake and fun. And, with the second slice sliding down from its shovel and onto the buttcheek, the plate under it issued a reminder: “Don’t forget to lick your plate clean once you’re done!” This time, it wasn’t a naked witch who laughed at the situation, but everyone around her. The woman’s face cheeks flushed, but she calmly laid her head down and rested, waiting for the buttgrabbing to begin.

Rum had to chuckle at the developments, and at the many witches, and wizards, and... Darmon? Yes, in fact, the witch companion who’d been pulling Darmon along all this way had brought the tank over to the caked butt, and was currently busy scraping cake off said butt with her fingers. As Rum continued to watch, the woman lifted the cake up and she’s offering it to Darmon? Hah, that’s funny. She wants to feed you buttcake. Without a moment’s hesitation though, Darmon the human warrior opened his mouth wide and accepted the cake, closing his eyes to savour not just it, but also the small fingers of his woman inside his mouth. He sucked on the fingers, greedily, almost like they had a magnificent flavor of their own. Good for you, Darmon. Rum nodded at the pair. Somewhere else in the room Rum saw Gilda opening a keg of... is that mead? Yes, or so it appeared to the wizard’s eyes. Gilda filled the first tankard with mead. She turned and offered it to her husband. “Honeywine for my honeywine?” she smiled at her beard-braided man. He grabbed the tankard with both hands, one of his hands reaching over her single one. She let go then, but his extra came to intertwine with her fingers and he held her. With his other hand he lifted the tankard up, up to his mouths, and drunk from it, eyes seeming to meet hers all the way in a smile. Or so Rum imagined, for he could only see half of what was going on looking at it from the other side of the room and with other people in-between.

“How well everyone seems to get along here” he commented to himself. “What a great ending to a short, but tense day.” Before long Elrith came over. She was carrying two tankards full of mead, and as she came to halt in front of him, reached out with one of them, offering it to him. “Oh” Rum said and grabbed the offered drink, “nice of you think of me.” She nodded her head, and sat down besides him, both of them leaning against the mountain wall. She sipped a little from her tankard, and cast him a side-glance. Rum tasted a small sip himself. It was nice, more sweetness than he could want after such a large slice of cake, but nice complementary flavoring nevertheless. He returned her casual stare at him. “Something the matter?”

She shook her head, moved her eyes to her tankard and took another, longer sip. She swallowed and produced an “aaah”. Casually, her eyes moved up to Rum again. When he met hers again she spoke: “It’s just, I can’t believe we’re doing this. That this is happening.”

Rum smiled. “Yes, it is a little fantastical isn’t it. But nice?”

She very slowly nodded her head, as if pondering in-between the bobs. “I feel completely different than I normally know myself to be.”

“Well, you are under a spell” Rum replied matter-of-factly.

“I am? That makes sense” she sighed deeply, eyes looking into the ground deeply.

Rum eyed her for a moment with curiosity. I’ve never actually had the chance to talk to someone about being under the effects this spell. Maybe I should seize the opportunity?

“What does the spell do?” Her eyes moved back up to him, her face interested with wonder. “This isn’t the first time you’ve had me under a spell, yet I can’t help but feel this is different, somehow.”

“It’s a more potent spell” Rum began. “The second time we met I cast a similar but significantly weaker spell on you. Positive Mind, you may recall, it made your mind prioritize positive thoughts, leading you to see the world for its beauties and opportunities more than its flaws and obstructions. However, this spell I’ve cast on you now, along with everyone else here, it’s called Gay Aura. It takes all of what you experienced before to the next level. From how I’ve come to know it – I haven’t tried it on myself – but from making it and seeing it happen to others, I can tell that my Gay Aura lightens the heart, opens the mind, and releases impulses. It doesn’t put a new person in your place, Elrith, but let loose your most repressed inclinations towards experiencing moments of beauty. That’s how I see it. Be it the beauty of taste for the tongue, the beauty of music for the ears and dance for the body, the beauty of friendship and trust among enemies, the beauty of love and mutual desire among already friends, and the beauty of community across disparate groups.”

Elrith took her eyes off Rum and looked into her tankard of mead. She began sipping it again, once, and twice, glancing out over the crowd of people, as if trying to discern his words manifesting in the crowd.

“It’s a spell for abundant ecstacies in the energetic, and deep comforts in the resting” the wizard added.

She remained silent for a while longer, before eventually looking up at him again. “This would never have happened without your spell on me...” she thought for a second, eyes unfocusing again. “It feels strange. I remember, the last thing before I started to feel this way. You used me as a shield against their magic.” Rum nodded, a tiny hint of guilt creeping up his back. She focused on him. “Yet I don’t blame you. Rather, I’m alive, and, not just that, but I feel like you saved us all from having to fight.” Her eyes widened at her own remark. “I’m alive because you used me as a shield. Heh” she fell unfocused once more, looking past her tankard, which she brought to her mouth for another, long thoughtful sip. “I don’t want to be a shield again, it’s awfully scary. Incredibly scary. Not even your spell can make me say otherwise” she smiled up at him.

“He he” Rum managed a quiet laugh and a smile. That’s quite understandable, there has to be some limit to this spell I’d figure.

“Still, I suppose this version of me – under your spell of ecstacy and comfort, as you call it – I can forgive you for doing the only thing that was possible at the time. Even if it’s the rudest thing anyone has ever done to me.” She looked out across the crowd again, sighing lightly. “Please don’t make me a shield again.” And with that, and another sip, and another sigh, Elrith twisted her torso to place a hand against the wall, steadying herself to get upright. “Thanks for bed, and thanks for saving us, but also thanks-but-no-thanks to any future me-shielding.” She wandered off.

Rum watched her find her way into the kissing scene, gazing at a few lovers, before walking over to watch, and perhaps taste, the tit-cake and nearby the buttcake which she also gave a glance. Rum sighed deeply to himself. She’s right, it’s pretty rude to make somebody else into a shield. Even if I’ve volunteered before, it’s rude to volunteer someone else. If only the circumstances hadn’t been so special and dire. I should look to Amez make a tattoo of my own, one specialized in absorbing spells.

He looked about again. Amez appeared to be having a good time drinking mead and having a great chat with a couple of witches who looked to adore his pretty face. In fact, everyone seemed to be having such a great time. Everywhere there were smiles, happiness. Gradually, Rum’s heart brightened up again. The kitchen was an air of love, of companionship, of fun, of pleasure, and of relaxation. Every dungeon run should be like this, in the end. He glanced dreamily across the many people, his head resting against the wall. All of this is so great...

A couple of faint footsteps could be heard to his left. He ignored them. However, he saw a few of the heads among the mages turn. And their voices died down. Then more heads turned, and more voices quieted. Rum started to feel that something was off now, the merryment was fast fading. Suddenly everyone everywhere was quiet, and all them were staring at something left of Rum, towards that brief tunnel leading out of the kitchen and into what Rum had priorly guessed to be the dining room.

Finally, Rum also turned his head. There in the opening to the kitchen stood a man dressed similarly to the other mages present, but with a few striking differences. His dark-red robe was open at the front. He had black cotton pants, black shoes, dark-red gloves, and a staff of reddish wood in his right hand, topped with a large black-spotted ruby stone, around which part of the wood had been twinned. Then there was his face, which Rum realized had absolutely no merryment at all to it. An angry frown let show around a ginger-tinted moustache, while the rest of his face displayed a similarly gingerly goatee, and a long tidy wave of ginger-red hair flowed across his head. He also had some very thick and angry ginger eyebrows now that Rum got a better look.

“WHAT is GOING ON in MY DUNGEON!”