[b]Mittens![/b]

POP!

When Eupheria arrives, it’s with a shower of neon fireworks, right next to you. You jump and hiss and nearly fall right off the platform. (Why aren’t there guardrails?? This is so badly designed!)

“Mittens, look at what you’ve done!” She puts one of her hands on your head and spins you like a top. “If you didn’t like your pretty dress, why didn’t you just say so? Tsk, tsk, what [i]are[/i] they teaching you in the Solarium these days? Back in my day, Mommy would have sent me to my room without dessert for ruining my clothes!”

She releases you and lets you spin dizzily over the edge, only to grab you by the waist and pull you back in close. You end up smooshed against her blouse while you try to get the world to stop tilting so violently.

“But don’t you worry, darling! Grandma is here to take [i]such[/i] good care of you!” She plucks the snakerchief out of your mouth, wipes it all over your face as if cleaning a stubborn spot, and then tucks it into your top, where it grumpily wiggles. “Here, I’ll even let you pick out your own outfit!”

She snaps her fingers, and an ornate glass door rises up out of the platform, achingly reminiscent of home. It slides open with the whisper of glass on glass, revealing a corridor beyond filled with clothes.

“There you go, Mittens! Pick out whatever you like! And remember to watch out!”

She shoves you through, hands on your shoulders and back and hips and head, and the door closes before you can ask what exactly you should be watching out [i]for.[/i]

The corridor itself is very long, and rocking underfoot like the deck of a ship in choppy seas. Intermittently lit by weak lamps swinging from the ceiling, it is full of swaying shadows and the whisper of fabric on fabric, and smells strongly of floral perfumes. She must have raided every boutique in the Bazaar, given the dizzying array of fashions and options. You gape, head still spinning, and— ack! No! Bad snakerchief! Down!!

***

[b]Kazelia![/b]

“Later use!”
“Later use!”
“Lateeeer ussssseee...”

Spriggans are merely Challenge Rating 2, mostly because of their thorn claws and rudimentary cunning, but they are often found running in packs and get +2 to grappling attempts when working in concert. They rustle the petals of their rose heads to mimic speech, and often bury victims in fertile soil from the neck down as a temporary prison while they alert a Nightmare Commander, who will arrive in 1d4+1 rounds.

If you stand and fight, you’ll look super brave and cool. Roll to Keep Them Busy and fend them off until they run away, and turn to Page 43.

If you decide discretion is the better part of valor, you’ll have to leg it for the greenhouse door. Roll to Get Away, and turn to Page 107.

If you want to convince them that you are their new Nightmare Commander, roll your Wisdom with Despair and turn to Page 72.

***

[b]Adila![/b]

When you look back, Eupheria is already gone. Maybe you were too good? Haha! Take that! You are a Good Girl and already on top of the tallest mushroom, and from here you can clearly see the route to bounce to! You’re doing so well.

And that’s when you hear the screech of the Giant Fungal Bat.

It’s the size of you, and then some. It’s being ridden by some cackling feline gremlins, and they’re urging it to swoop down towards you! The second half of this challenge is going to be much, much more interesting, and the reverberation of the screech rattling around your skull is making it difficult to think.

Your tongue feels like it’s a mushroom and that’s so weird.

Whatever you do next, roll it with Despair while you try to keep your head together!