Ponn

An Idiot's Dungeon Union

Zoppy

Wow! wow! Zoppy ‘earz new customerz! Zoppy can’t wait fer dem ta get ta ‘er shoppy!
-Zoppy

An overjoyed smile of purest delight spread across Zoppy’s tiny face as the sounds of the Brave Friends’ battle chatter reached her oversized ears. The deformed goblin girl was so very happy to finally have new customers, and a lot of them, by the sounds of it. She was also very glad that she had so many new wares to sell them, and had gotten so much help with setting up her shop, or rather, her table. In fact, she was so happy and so excited, that her heart had begun racing quite fast indeed. Let’s hope she doesn’t wind up giving herself a heart attack…

An Idiot's Dungeon Union

In a distant reality plenum, there is a peculiar planet known as the World With No Name. Upon its bizarre patchwork surface can be found the Wandering Wood, and within this mystical, sentient forest is located a certain traveling treehouse tavern. A quaint and charming refuge for weary travelers and local forest residents alike, on this enchanted eve, with the soft, golden glow of myriad fireflies augmented by the glorious radiance of all three of the world’s mystical moons waxing full, the enchanted establishment’s various patrons (including a renowned moth feykin oracle and a certain interdimensional freelance photographer) had the pleasure of being serenaded by…

The famous frog bard sat atop an oversized toadstool, supplementing the ambient night music provided by the various other forest creatures with a relaxing melody strummed on his guitar. However, it was not just songs Balthazar was renowned for, but also stories…

“And now, my dear audience,” the bard announced after plucking out the final notes of his latest tune. “I ask that you draw near your attention, for tonight I shall recount a most unusual tale, and one containing a very important lesson. Many moons ago, on a night much like this one, I had the great honor to be counted among a party of brave heroes who had set out to vanquish a tumorous outgrowth of the Abyssal Convergence which had taken root right here in the Wandering Woods like an unwelcome wart on the world’s big toe. But overcoming the Abyssal threat wasn’t the only challenge we faced. You see,” he continued. “No matter the power of its members, for any given party of heroes to have any chance of succeeding at their quest, those same members must overcome their innate differences and work together as a unified team. Their myriad quirks and foibles must serve to strengthen the whole, rather than tear it asunder. As it happened, our party would find that goal a particularly difficult one to achieve…”

---

Story Time

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Our story begins on a misty morning, when the venerable Branch Nose, eldest guardian ent of the Wandering Woods, bent his bark-bound knees and whispered to the wind, “Oh dear… this is most dreadfully unsanitary. A blight, like fungus upon a fair fruit, grows deep within our roots.”

He had discovered a veiny tendril of malignant energy, spreading out from a massive pulsating tumor. An oozing pocket of Abyssal Convergence, it dripped black ichor, warped trees into snarling tangles, and corrupted everything it touched. Branch Nose, slow of step but pure of heart, knew he could not uproot this vile scourge alone. He needed help.

And who, pray tell did he turn to first?

Why, naturally me, Balthazar Hopperdink, bard extraordinaire! I sang word of his need far and wide, and, soon enough, three intrepid heroes answered.

First was Stella, the Starry Wanderer, a traveling Lunatic adventurer who fortuitously happened to be paying a visit to the Wandering Woods at just that time. A skilled lunar mage, with miniature constellations dancing at her fingertips, she exuded a cheerful, and carefree charisma, allowing her to quickly befriend almost anyone. And what a reliable and steadfast friend she was! Indeed, if Branch Nose was our pillar of physical strength, Stella was one for our emotional wellbeing, even more so than yours truly!

Next was Lunella, Stella’s traveling companion and best friend. A celebrated Lunatic astronomer and equally proficient lunar mage, Lunella was the youngest member of the Lunatics’ Lunar Council. Modest, unassuming, and sweet as moonmilk, she was blessed with a serene and compassionate personality, her demure nature perfectly suited to diffusing tensions when even a relaxing tune wouldn’t suffice.

Finally, there was Ophelia, the highly logical and intelligent inventor-queen of a nearby tribe of goblins. Although seemingly a goblin herself, albeit one with spectacles too large for her face and a brain too large for the world’s comfort, the brilliant, tiny scientist actually claimed to have once been a human. Hailing from another universe, where she was the sharpest mind at her school (or so she said), she was apparently brought to our world via some form of portal, which opened just as she was about to be struck by an out-of-control conveyance. This transference was also somehow responsible for the goblinoid appearance she currently displayed (her theory was some manner of mental transference). Stoic of demeanor and formal of speech, her behavior stood in stark contrast to that of most other goblins. Pure logic. Zero tact. Surprisingly terrifying.

And so, the five of us gathered at the threshold of adventure.

As our guide, Branch Nose addressed us before we set out. “I thank you, noble friends,” he began, bowing deeply. “The woods hum with distress. A malignancy grows like rot in an apple core. I fear its shadow spreads.”

“Not to worry!” I declared, strumming my guitar. “We shall pluck this foul weed from your fine foliage like a tarnished feather from a golden hen!”

“I calculate a 78% probability that the tumor is a simple mass-energy distortion stabilized by chaotic ether,” Ophelia stated in a flat, matter-of-fact tone as she adjusted her glasses. “With sufficient data, I am confident I will be able to devise a remedy.”

“And if that should fail, the stars themselves will guide our path,” Stella declared with a serene and confident smile.

“Well said, dear friend,” Lunella agreed in a soft and respectful voice, a gentle smile gracing her visage as she nodded demurely.

We that, we were off! As we traveled, the woods grew increasingly darker and more menacing. Fireflies dimmed, leaves twisted into spined shapes, and the very ground moaned in anguish under our feet, until, at last, we arrived at the source of the malevolent aura. At the center of a rotted clearing, the Abyssal Tumor throbbed and pulsated like a diseased heart, its massive, swollen form, dripping black ichor that hissed where it touched the soil, suffusing it with further corruption. Yet, no sooner had we laid eyes on this horrific abomination, then the last light of day faded, and the three moons rose, heralding the onset of a challenge far greater than any the Abyssal forces might have sent to oppose us.

For those of you who might be unfamiliar with such things, a peculiar aspect of Lunatic physiology is an innate attunement to our world’s three moons, in particular the largest, Luminara, the so-called “Lunacy Moon”. Relating to this, each Lunatic undergoes a shift in personality, and sometimes even appearance, tied to particular lunar phases. In most cases, this alteration is minor, but for some, the change is far more pronounced, and, as it happened, the transformation the quiet and unassuming Lunella underwent was by far the most dramatic of all…

“OOOOHH HO HO HO HOOO!!!” a peal of haughty laughter rang out with enough regal force to shake the very heavens. “REJOICE, FEEBLE COMMONERS!!!” a voice dripping with heady arrogance commanded, one worlds removed from Lunella’s usual soft tone. “For thy most splendiferously exalted Queen hath arrived to grace these wretchedly corrupt environs with our most glorious and divine radiance!”

Yes, whenever Luminara waxed full, Lunella would be transformed by its celestial power into the unbelievably vain and imperious Queen Celestia, Monarch of Moonlight and Queen of the Full Moon. Moments after making her grand debut, the royal bombshell the once-modest Lunella had become struck a pose so dramatically captivating that three nearby mushrooms fainted on the spot!

“Such sublime loveliness…” Branch Nose marveled in hushed awe. “Enough to rival the most beautiful of blossoms!”

“Indeed,” I concurred, while nodding sagaciously. “Like a symphony given form!”

“Might I say that you are looking as lovely as ever this fine eve, Your Majesty,” Stella told her queenly friend with a joyful smile and a respectful curtsy, the Starry Wanderer clearly pleased as punch to see her transformed friend bedecked in all her regal splendor.

“Of course we art,” Celestia replied with a smug smirk of her royal blue lips as she flipped her silken azure tresses in an overly dramatic fashion. “But we do so adore when our most cherished friend tells us so,” she added, her tone sounding far more affectionate as she treated Stella to a warm smile.

Yes, at first glance it seemed as though this would be a most fortuitous turn of events, for surely the vast powers Queen Celestia commanded would make uprooting the Abyssal Tumor as easy as playing a lullaby. Yet, not everyone was awed by the Lunar Sovereign’s show-stopping presence, and that was where our troubles began…

You see, for her part, Ophelia simply stared, unblinking, at the ostentatious being posing before her, the stoic goblin’s visage remaining one of blank disinterest.

“Impossible,” she stated flatly.

Celestia blinked, the unexpected response bringing her imperious preening to an abrupt halt. “Excuse us?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as she glared down at the diminutive goblin.

“I simply stated that such an unprecedented transmogrification should not be scientifically possible,” the hyper-logical goblin inventor replied, utterly unperturbed by the Moonlight Monarch’s imposing presence looming over her, as she began to slowly circle the queenly beauty, a pair of apparatus-covered goggles having been lowered over her glasses. “Multiple factors are in non-conformity with known models…” she muttered as she adjusted a dial on the goggles to send their twin lenses telescoping outwards. “Luminous energy output exceeding natural lunar reflection limits by several orders of magnitude. Recalibrating sensors. Running thermal readings. Commencing attribute analysis, and alteration assessment,” Ophelia announced, before beginning to furiously scribble notes in a clockwork tablet that unfolded from her belt amidst a hissing of steam and clinking of gears. “Subject has clearly undergone a large-scale morphological alteration without observable catalysts such as chemical triggers or hormonal surges, violating all known biological frameworks. Relevant data points as follows: An increase in mass by several kilograms, facilitating the enlargement of the chest, posterior, and thighs. Generation of an elaborate, fully-constructed outfit seemingly ex nihilo. Former attire providing insufficient raw materials for compensatory exchange. A change in vocal timbre without vocal strain. An increase in stature by seven and three quarter inches, before accounting for the additional elevation provided by newly generated footwear. Posture has significantly altered to reflect a delusional sense of superiority.”

“Delusional?!” Celestia cried, utterly aghast, her lovely countenance contorting into a look of appalled indignation. “How dare thee! Impudent little heathen…” the imperious maiden hissed, holding forth her royal scepter and pointing it at the ground in front of her. “Thou shalt prostrate thy wretched self before our glorious majesty and apologize to us at…!”

“You should not exist,” Ophelia stated, jabbing her pencil toward Celestia and cutting the Moonlight Monarch off before she could even finish giving her royal command. “Your entire transformation is highly illogical and does not follow a single natural law or scientific rule. There is no discernible explanation for your current state, thus, it follows that said state is a mere collective delusion.”

“Actually, I believe I might be able to clarify things a little,” Stella spoke up, tentatively raising a finger. “You see, the changes we Lunatics sometimes undergo are the result of moonlight interacting with our… um… our biological makeup,” the Starry Wanderer explained. “It’s simply an innate and completely natural part of who we are.”

“We thank thee for thy attempt to enlighten this boorish wretch,” Celestia told her friend. “But nonetheless, we still require that she give a most sincere apology to our most magnificent and exalted sel—”

“An insufficiently detailed explanation,” Ophelia declared, once again cutting off Celestia’s regal words. “Additional study will need to be conducted at a future juncture, but at present, further exploration of this line of inquiry will only be a needless waste of valuable time. By my calculations,” she continued, taping the keys of a strange apparatus on her forearm, which produced a small piece of parchment. “Based upon observed rate of expansion, the tumorous growth will reach critical mass in approximately 2.53 minutes.”

As if to accentuate that warning, tendrils of abyssal darkness burst forth from the tortured ground, snaring tree limbs and stones, while an eldritch shriek rent the air.

“Oh my!” Branch Nose gasped, his towering form trembling at the unwholesome sight. “It grows like ivy upon a weakened trellis… our time wanes, little friends…”

Yet, Celestia merely raised the bejeweled fingers of an elegant hand to cover her mouth and gave voice to a peal of queenly laughter. “Oooohh ho ho ho! We bid thee fear not, our leafy subject! Such a feeble display of force is as nothing compared to the sublimely transcendent power of our most majestic self!”

“Is this level of bombast typical of the personality shifts all Lunatics undergo?” Ophelia inquired.

“Not exactly,” Stella replied. “Lunella is something of a special case, although, if anything, she’s actually holding back.”

“Oh, yes,” I concurred, while tuning my guitar for dramatic effect. “The last time I had the pleasure of performing before her Moonlit Majesty, she conjured an entire moonstone palace around the podling pub I was playing at!”

Meanwhile, the queenly beauty herself had strode forth to the edge of the overlook we stood upon, struck an imperious pose, and, with one hand resting on her hip, pointed her ornate royal scepter at the Abyssal Tumor bubbling in the soil below, a massive, pulsating orb of blackened ichor.

“We shall pop this pitiable pimple beneath the heel of our celestial might!” Celestia declared. “Now, behold perfection personified!”

The bejeweled tip of her gilded scepter glowed and sparkled with motes of moon magic, and a rising crystalline hum filled the air. However, before the profound power could be projected, Ophelia darted forward and shoved a brass contraption in front of the Moonlight Monarch’s royal weapon.

“Stop,” the goblin queen instructed. “You will destabilize the mass-energy distortion. We must first analyze its resonant frequency.”

Celestia glared down at Ophelia with regal fury. “Impudent cretin! How dare thee continue to interrupt us! We hath no need to analyze. We simply annihilate all that dares oppose us! We command thee, stand aside!”

“Negative,” Ophelia replied, her voice as flat and unperturbed as ever. “You are a hazard. Your recklessness only exacerbates an already dangerous situation by several orders of magnitude.”

“Danger?!” Celestia scoffed. “No malice could ever hope to stand against our magnificence!”

“That statement is meaningless,” Ophelia stated. “Magnificence is not a quantifiable variable. To eliminate such opposition with magnificence alone is scientifically impossible.”

“We care not for thy so-called science,” Celestia retorted. “It should simply adapt its precepts to include our splendor.”

“Your delusional vanity hinders any attempt at forming logical thought,” Ophelia told the self-absorbed queen. “It is thus a hinderance to the attainment of our objective and as such is nothing to be celebrated. Furthermore, the other myriad attributes of your current persona are devoid of any form of practical application, presenting as nothing more than superfluous embellishments, suitable only for fueling an already detrimentally sizable ego and maintaining this fallacious facade of queenship.”

“Fallacious?!” Celestia roared with royal outrage. “Thou dare to make such a claim while also purporting thy pitiful self a monarch as well?!”

“I was given that title by others, in response to my various scientific contributions,” Ophelia calmly clarified. “I did not seek it out, nor do I have any desire to lay claim to it.”

“We were also given our title,” Celestia declared with a cocky smirk. “By fair Luminara herself!”

“So you assert that the moon itself is a conscious entity providing spontaneous mass-energy restructuring to the individual chosen to serve in the role of Lunatic sovereign and that you possess whatever inherent traits are necessary to be that chosen individual?” Ophelia inquired with a raised eyebrow.

“Naturally,” Celestia replied with a supremely confident hair flip, sounding very pleased with herself. “It should be obvious, even to one as boorish as thyself, that the full moon adores us!”

“Or perhaps whatever entirely natural forces are at play have simply affected your mind, as well as your personality,” Ophelia proposed. “For example, a form of microscopic spore capable of provoking intense hallucinogenic effects, drawing upon deep seated insecurities and wish fulfillment, when exposed to moonlight.”

Celestia clenched her elegant fists and ground her perfect teeth. “Thou insufferable little…”

“You are objectively the insufferable one,” Ophelia stated calmly.

The two queens glared at one another, and as they did so, the Abyssal tumor pulsed and grew ever larger behind them. Something had to be done, and I knew that I would need to be the one to do it!

Leaping onto a nearby log, I began strumming my guitar with great urgency. When the forceful notes finally caught the squabbling sovereigns’ attention, I began to sing…

“Oh gracious queens, let tempers cease,
For doom grows fat on your caprice!
Unite your strengths, let discord fall—
Or Wandering Woods shall be no more at all!”

The song washed over the clearing, it melody calming, focusing, and reminding the queens, and the rest of us as well, of the important nature of our task. When it concluded, Stella was the first to speak.

“Your Majesties, please listen,” the Starry Wanderer requested as she stepped forward, her graceful hands weaving starlight into calming constellations. “You’re both right.”

Ophelia blinked. “That is extremely improbable.”

Celestia placed the splayed fingers of an elegant hand atop her ample chest. “We art always right. But we bid thee go on, cherished subject.”

“Celestia, your power is overwhelming,” Stella continued in a gentle tone. “Ophelia, your intelligence is unparalleled. We need both in order to be victorious.”

Celestia opened her mouth to argue, only to pause a moment later. “…Very well,” she conceded. “We shall allow the small sovereign of so-called ‘science’ to contribute.”

Ophelia crossed her arms. “I will interpret this as acceptance, despite your condescension.”

Stella winked at me.

I winked back.

Finally, unity had sprouted. Now, we set to work on a plan…

While Queen Celestia’s gleaming barriers of crystalized moonlight contained the Abyssal corruption’s sinister spread, Ophelia assembled a fancy telescopic contraption from components she pulled out of the enormous backpack carried by her clockwork automaton assistant. Once activated, this ingenious device was employed to learn all sorts of useful information about our dreadful foe, a process aided by a pair of miniature, propellor-driven airships, and several of Stella’s specially-crafted constellations. Soon enough, sufficient insight had been gleaned for Ophelia to formulate a suitable course of action.

“I have successfully located the tumor’s central void matrix,” the goblinoid scientist announced as she carefully adjusted her machinery. “We will require a force of sufficient strength, projected along a precise wavelength if we wish to destabilize it enough to precipitate a full cohesive disillusion,” she continued. “Based on observational data, Queen Celestia’s lunar abilities would be an ideal candidate. However, the relevant projection of power must be tightly focused and aimed with the utmost accuracy.”

“So, thou requires us to craft a prism worthy of our moonlit majesty?” Celestia inquired with a smug smirk.

“Incorrect,” Ophelia replied with a shake of her head. “I require you to hit what I point at, namely, this.”

From out of her cavernously capacious pack, she produced a tightly compressed metal frame, topped with whirring gears and mirrored plates. With the press of a button, and amidst a blur of hinged panels swinging out and gears clicking into place, it unfolded into an intricate latticework of reflective facets, all arranged and angled in a carefully constructed pattern, almost like the blooming of an artificial flower.

Stella gasped at the sight. “Is… is that a prismatic rotational amplifier?” she inquired, pointing at one of the device’s more intricate components. “With harmonic focusing plates?”

“Correct,” Ophelia said, tightening a screw that hissed steam. “This focusing array will channel, refine, intensify, and guide any energy directed into it. In this present case, that will be Queen Celestia’s lunar power.”

“And why, pray tell, hath we need of this contraption?” Celestia asked, casting a disparaging gaze over Ophelia’s device. “We art certain our prodigious proficiency alone shall be more than sufficient!”

In response, Ophelia pointed her wrench directly at the tumor. “For this plan to have any chance of success, we need to ensure the beam is as accurate as possible, which this device will facilitate. If you fire wildly, you will quite possibly empower the tumor instead, thereby initiating a catastrophic cascade of corruptive energy that will rapidly consume us all. So kindly relegate yourself to your assigned task, and trust me to accomplish mine.”

Celestia narrowed her eyes. “We detect a feeble-minded doubt in our perfection and a most unwelcome degree of insolence,” she noted coldly, her azure lips set in an annoyed frown.

“I detect an irrational degree of arrogance,” Ophelia replied flatly.

“Your Majesties…” Stella interjected. “You do both remember what we’re here for, right?” she asked, a silent plea for cooperation filling her starry eyes.

“Of course, our most cherished friend,” Celestia replied, her proud smile returning. “And we shall magnanimously allow the little goblin queen’s contraption to bask in our brilliance!”

Ophelia merely nodded. “Fire on my mark, Your Majesty,” she instructed as she peered at the tumor through a gadget-covered brass telescope.

“Merely say the word, and thou shalt gaze upon our glory!” Celestia replied.

“Celestia’s barrier will need to be lowered before she can fire, so we’ll need to be ready for any Abyssal attacks,” Stella warned us even as her fingers conjured several pinpoints of light, which swiftly formed the Astral Sentinel, mightiest of all constellations.

“I shall muster all the fury of the forest to see us safely through this ordeal!” Branch Nose pledged.

“And I shall provide a rousing tune to enhance your efforts!” I declared, my dextrous digits already beginning to dance on my instrument’s strings.

When the barrier lowered, the tumor seemed to swell and pulsate with even greater intensity, as if sensing the impending threat to its malign existence. Abyssal tendrils lashed outward, carving trenches in the soil, while shadow-things slithered towards us, half-formed creatures, dripping with unlight.

Moving with a swiftness quite unexpected for one normally so ponderous, Branch Nose raised his arms, sending a torrent of roots bursting from the ground, tangling the tendrils.

“Hold fast, children of bark and leaf!” he thundered. “Let not this thorn in the flesh of the forest, festering and foul, overcome your resolve!”

“Astral Sentinel most noble,” Stella entreated of the star forged guardian as she raised the splayed fingers of her hand towards the great ent. “Please gent him your protection!”

At that, the knightly constellation strode forward to place its gleaming shield between Branch Nose and the swarm of shadowy Abyssals that were poised to overwhelm him, the mighty defender’s shining sword vaporizing the fell creatures with a sweeping arc of mystic starlight.

Not to be outdone, I let my fingers dance upon the strings of my guitar, while giving voice to a battle hymn most grand.

“Courage in roots, strength in light,
Hold the line through endless night!”

The tumor reared, swelling grotesquely, while abyssal fumes twisted into screaming faces. Then it cracked open, revealing a cavernous core dripping with entropy. The abyssal energies assailing us surged with stupendous strength, threatening to drown us under the most terrible tidal wave imaginable.

“Why has the blessed beam of moonlight yet to be loosed?” a concerned Branch Nose inquired.

“The tumor’s central void matrix has shifted,” Ophelia replied with a calmness most unnatural given the current situation as she cranked her array, its gears whirring and mirrors shifting. “I am currently recalibrating to account for this.”

“Please hurry!” Stella shouted, panic filling her voice as the tumor lurched, splitting even wider…

“Almost there…” Ophelia muttered, her tiny hands flying across dozens of dials as she made her final adjustments. “Almost…”

“Art thou still not—” Celestia began to grumble, before a shout from the goblinoid inventor cut her off.

“Celestia, FIRE NOW!!!”

Not wasting a moment, the magnificent Queen of the Full Moon unleashed a shining, razor-sharp lance of the most pure and flawless lunar radiance into Ophelia’s focusing array, which refracted and tightened the titanic torrent of power, directing it unerringly towards the tumor’s dark heart, promptly piercing it like a pin puncturing a balloon. The woods shook. The tumor shrieked as it burst apart, its ruinous form utterly rent asunder. Abyssal energy exploded upward in a geyser of darkness and a violent shockwave, which slammed into the Astral Sentinel’s shimmering starlight shield with frightening force, the constellations composing it struggling to hold. But Stella, gritting her teeth and calling upon all of her mystic energies, reinforced her creation enough to withstand the onslaught, while Branch Nose rooted himself deeper, his ancient strength anchoring us firm. And I played ever faster, pouring every scrap of hope and harmony into the melody, until, at last, the tide of darkness finally dissolved into sparkles of mystic moon glow.

When the light faded and peaceful silence fell, we saw to our great delight that the writhing tumor was gone at last. In its place was a clean, empty crater, just waiting for pure and wholesome life to flourish within it once again. Having been holding our breath, we all exhaled a sigh of happy relief, and so, too, did the Wandering Woods itself.

“The forest… lives…” Branch Nose murmured in hushed awe. Turning to the rest of us, the elderly ent bowed deeply. “You have pruned away a blight most dire. The woods whisper gratitude for your efforts, hard-won though they were.”

Stella dismissed her conjured constellations and slumped in relief. “We… We actually did it…” she marveled with a joyful smile.

“Naturally,” Celestia replied, thrusting out her chest and giving her hair a supremely confident flip. “With our incomparable brilliance, success was absolutely inevitable.”

“Incorrect,” Ophelia rebutted, crossing her arms. “Success was only possible because everyone contributed. Even you, despite your concerning personality defects.”

Upon hearing this, Celestia looked ready to give voice to yet another royal tirade, but her severe countenance slowly mellowed, her lifted chin lowered, and she ultimately replied, “…We suppose thy device was… not entirely unimpressive.”

Ophelia stared.

“That… is the closest thing to a compliment I have ever heard you give.”

“We bid thee treasure it, little subject,” Celestia replied with an amused smirk.

“I am not your subject,” Ophelia corrected.

“All those we care for art our subjects,” Celestia clarified, her voice and visage warming a surprising amount.

“Leaping lily pads!” I croaked happily. “For you two, that’s practically a confession of friendship!”

At this, Stella couldn’t help but burst out into giggles, soon joined by Branch Nose’s deep chuckling.

And so, in the midst of the Wandering Woods, under the gentle glow of the full moon, our unlikely team finally, truly, stood united.

---

“Thus our tale ends,” Balthazar concluded. “Not with a single hero, nor a single method, but with five companions united in friendship. Magic and machinery, logic and lunacy, song and starlight, all woven together as threads in one tapestry. A tapestry strong enough to save the Wandering Woods and, indeed, to accomplish anything. Always remember the lesson this tale teaches,” the bard advised as he looked over his audience. “That every mind, every method, and every voice adds something vital, that even the most mismatched companions can save the world, so long as they do not try to do so alone, and you, too, shall be able to triumph over even the most formidable of challenges.”

Speaking of challenges, do you know who else recently made a diverse collection of new friends and learned about all the wonderful benefits of working together with said new friends to accomplish something truly amazing?

Zoppy

Zoppy got ‘elp ta make ‘er shoppy!
-Zoppy

Despite her best efforts, Zoppy was (predictably) unable to make much progress in carving out her shop from the dungeon wall. However, some of the minion monsters noticed what she was doing and, feeling bad for the deformed little thing, offered to lend her a small amount of assistance. While she still wouldn’t be able to have a new chamber for her shop, with the help of these greatly appreciated new friends working in concert, a small table was formed out of a tightly packed pile of assorted rubble from the other excavation efforts. “Dankz lotz!” Zoppy told them with a happy smile. Upon the makeshift table’s mostly flat surface, the intrepid merchant laid out her various wares, they being a few stones, sticks, the clump of now mostly dry moss the treant had placed atop her slumbering form, and three of the bone daggers the Oracle had crafted (which the naga was kind enough to carry over and place so that poor Zoppy didn’t accidentally cut or stab herself) . Now she just had to wait until her latest potential customers arrived.

March of the White Rabbit: A Roll-Your-Own Magical Girl Roleplay

Connie and Mia Stats

Connie

3 | 3 | 4 | 3 | 3
5 | 4 | 6 | 22 | 5

Oddball: Nightmares | Tentacles

Enhanced Weapon | Power Artifact | Mystic Artifact | Ally | Interdimensional Home

Focused | Mental Link | Hidden Death | Mana Font | Mystic Might

Alien Mind | Formless | Rival Force | Clueless

---

Mia

3 | 4 | 3 | 3 | 3
5 | 8 | 7 | 22 | 5

Wood | Barrage

Enhanced Weapon | Dual Weapon | Purification Artifact | Big Red Button

Blessing | Divine Competence | Gifted Item | Mana Font | Mystic Might

Rites| Arrogance | Big Brother | Clueless

Gaia smiled at Branch Nose as the small ent sitting on her shoulder offered to serve as a scout. “That is most courageous of you, but I would still prefer not to risk even your substitute body when a few vine tendrils could easily serve in that role,” the verdant maiden told him. “After all, if something were to happen to your vessel, it would take no small amount of time and effort to allow you to rejoin us in a similar fashion.”

Meanwhile, Connie’s mask also formed an appreciative smile when Lily took her hand. It was a great blessing to have made such a kind friend, although the timid girl could do without the bubbly greenette’s impulsive hyperactivity. Giving a small gasp as Lily pulled her forward to look inside the stone walrus head’s gaping maw, the masked maiden gave voice to an alarmed cry when she, too, noticed the menacing oyster-creatures, one only slightly stifled by quickly raising a trembling hand to cover her mouth.

“Hmmm… That does indeed seem to be quite the problematic obstacle…” Gaia concurred with a thoughtful frown as she joined Lily and Connie in front of the opening, the botanical beauty’s graceful fingers giving her dismayed best friend’s shoulders a comforting massage. “While I might be able to neutralize them myself, I believe my dearest Connie’s nightmare magic would be more effective in that regard,” she added. “Do you think you can trap them in a nightmare deep enough so that they won’t awaken while Branch Nose and I retrieve them, little sister?” the nymph-like magical girl inquired.

“I-I can t-try,” Connie replied with as much determination as she could muster, despite her clear trepidation.

Taking a deep breath, the masked maiden gathered her mystic power, raised a trembling hand, and fired a focused pulse of nightmare energy down the narrow passage. With luck, it would ensure that none of the oyster-creatures would emerge from their now far less pleasant slumber any time soon.

---

MDP Stats

Magical Dream Princess

3 | 4 | 3 | 3 | 3
4 | 9 | 4 | 24 | 9

Oddball: Sweet Dreams | Barrage

Wealth and Resources (not while tf'd) | Enhanced Weapon | Power Artifact | Dual Weapon | Natural Aging | Money | Intuition

Focused | Mental Link | Hidden Death | Mana Font | Mystic Might

Alien Mind | Formless | Rival Force | Clueless

MDP continued her incredibly annoying cheerful song even as her strange procession moved from desert to grassy plain, its cutesy lyrics changing to reflect this. At this point I would perhaps try to pad out the rest of this section with the rambling lyrics for this song, but since I don’t want to subject anyone to that level of torture, I shall refrain. If, for whatever masochistic reason you wish to imagine what said song sounds like, just think of a hellish hybrid of the most annoying song from a children's show you’ve ever heard and the most sickeningly kawaiiko song the most sickeningly kawaiiko anime girl idol has ever sang. Though I’m sure nobody reading this is actually crazy enough to want to do that.

Kurai Majokko: Tsundere Gekido

H-Have I mentioned how much I hate detectives?
-Norika Tsukishima

It was not an especially sunny day.

Not that it would have meant much. The filter on Norika’s window prevented much of anything from lighting up her room. But today it was cloudy. Very cloudy, in fact. And a bit stormy too. It was dark and hard to see much of anything, save for when a lightning bolt lit up the sky. And forget hearing anything. The rain drummed on the window for hours, drowned out only by the occasional crack of thunder.

Despite the harsh conditions, a pair of headlights cut through the darkness outside. Guests never brought Norika much joy, but this one was especially troublesome. It was that beat up truck that belonged to the private detective. The engine was almost louder than the rain.

W-Why is he here? Norika wondered as she peered at the unwelcomely familiar truck from between her thick curtains as it made its way through the torrential deluge, growing ever closer to her home.

While she had gotten Roche to buy her a wig that matched the hair of her magical girl form, Norika had yet to settle upon a suitably unpleasant candidate to plant it on. At first, Suki had been the obvious choice to frame for the break-in, but recent developments had caused the sickly girl to hesitate on going through with that plan. Indeed, with current affairs being what they were, bringing unwanted attention to any member of the club was problematic at best. If only I knew where any of those annoying GEM bitches lived… In any event, she’d thought the worst she’d have to deal with was keeping the troublesome investigator away from Misoka. She hadn’t expected he would return so soon, especially not before she’d finalized her cover story. I-I’ll just have to get creative… Norika resolved, her mouth set in a firm line as she clutched the precious pendent around her neck. Taking a deep breath, the frail girl steeled herself as much as possible for the impending meeting.

The door swung open. It was one of the maids.

"Let’s get this over with. Come on."

A sentiment she could agree with.

…

…

…

The setup was much like before, with the sickly Norika positioned on a chair with her back to a corner. What was different was that her father was nowhere to be seen this time. The chair her father usually sat in was empty, and Makoto was seated shortly after Norika.

"These are some comfy seats." Makoto’s expression remained professionally apathetic as he spoke. "The truck’s seats are starting to show their age. Maybe when I get them reupholstered, I’ll have the cushions replaced with whatever your family lines their chairs with."

"W-Why do you w-want to speak with me?" Norika inquired, getting right to the point despite the meek tone of her voice and her visibly unsettled demeanor. "I-I already t-told you e-everything I know."

"Oh…" Makoto’s demeanor returned to its normal seriousness. At least, normal compared to his first visit. "You had said that your parents tend to keep you out of most things. I had to talk with him for a bit and I thought you might like to be involved in things a bit more. In particular, I wanted to introduce you to someone." He tipped his head. "When you mentioned the teal wig, I thought you were pulling my leg. The case is almost a slam dunk, but given your father’s influence I need to make sure parties outside of Hibusa town are not involved. Apparently ‘Cosplay Criminals’ are something that exist, and they can be very difficult to catch." He shrugged his shoulders. "Your father is already paying me quite well, so I’ve decided to hire a specialist to work on that aspect of the case. I thought you might like to meet him."

"O-Oh, I see…" Norika replied softly. This was both good, and bad news. For one thing, it was rather considerate of Makoto to want to involve her in more of the investigation, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but feel that this was in some way a ploy to fish for more information. For another, while looking for possible suspects beyond Hibusa’s bounds significantly lessened the chances of Misoka, or her family, suffering any repercussions, it also greatly complicated Norika’s plans to frame an unpleasant individual of her choosing for the crime. In any event, she would have to think over those issues at a later time. Right now, she had a more immediate concern to deal with. "Y-Yes," she confirmed with a hesitant nod. "I-I would v-very much like to meet him."

Makoto gave the girl a single nod. "Mister Vanhorn?"

The teenage boy who walked into view wasn’t most people’s idea of a mister. He had youthful features and didn’t look like a Japanese native. His hair was short and curtained the sides of his face. His clothes leaned European and he took better care of his appearance than Makoto did. But he said nothing, and simply took a seat in her father’s chair across from Makoto.

"Yes, Mister Vanhorn." Makoto pointed at him once. "He knows a lot about these cosplay criminals."

"Just Finn is fine." He placed his hands in his lap, which also held a laptop. "We don’t need to be so formal."

Makoto scoffed. "He doesn’t let me call him Finn."

H-He’s a teenager…? Norika wondered incredulously. Indeed, the young man before her looked younger than she was. Then again, thanks to her frail constitution, Norika herself looked several years younger than her actual age, so perhaps the same was true of this "Finn". "I-It’s a pleasure to m-make your a-acquaintance, Finn," Norika told the boy detective with a demure bow of her head. "I-I’m Norika."

"So I’ve been told." He returned the nod with one of his own, then flipped open his laptop. His eyes were focused on Norika as his fingers tapped away. "I’ve spoken with Makoto, and I have a few extra questions about the wig. It was teal, but do you remember how long it was? Any accessories that stood out?"

"I-I, um… I-I think it was waist-length," Norika replied hesitantly, as though she were trying to recall what she’d seen. "I-I didn’t really get the b-best look at it," she added with a frown. "I-I mainly just n-noticed the color…"

"I see." Finn’s eyes flicked down to his laptop. But rather than furious typing, he scrolled and tapped a few times. "Are you a fan of Hatsune Miku?"

"N-Not really…" Norika replied, unsure of where Finn was going with this new line of questioning. "I-I mostly prefer i-instrumental music," she added softly. "W-Why do you ask?"

"She also has teal hair. If you were a fan of her, you might be more inclined to misremember details about the thief and project something you were more familiar with in your memories." He closed the laptop. "I also prefer instrumental music. Beethoven’s Moonlit Sonata is one of my favorites. Particularly the first movement, Adagio sostenuto. The melancholy of the notes gets me every time. Though the furious maelstrom of notes in the third movement is also to my tastes. Do you have any favorites?"

Norika was silent for a moment before answering. "I-I like v-video game music," she explained, looking away out of embarrassment. "M-My brother and I u-used to play a l-lot of different ones, a-and I really e-enjoyed their soundtracks." If she had to pick a favorite, Blood Shot, from the console port of Gearmantic Hearts, would have been a strong contender for that spot, but she wasn’t about to tell the obviously high-brow Finn that. Indeed, she felt self-conscious enough about revealing this much insight into her taste in music as it was.

This made the corners of Finn’s lips curl up. "Ahh, I’m always hesitant to bring up my love of videogames. Have you ever played Gearmantic Hearts? I heard good things about it, but it was just a curiosity for me until I learned one of the characters was named ‘Finnegan Fabricant.’ I remember I tried to get really good with him." His eyes flicked down to his computer. A little bit of typing, a few clicks, and some music started to play. "Combining the eerie electric organ with a heavy guitar rift isn’t something I’d normally picture for him, but it kind of makes sense given his past traumas."

Norika had to stifle a gasp when Finn started playing the very song she’d been thinking about. She also had to stop herself from falling into the trap of clarifying that the track in question was actually the theme for a different character, a death ray-firing technomantic horror that was one of her most often used fighters, along with the equally beam bombardment heavy Sixshooter Synthia and Necroid 99. Instead, she simply replied, "I-I’ll take your w-word for it. K-Kaito and I o-only played that game a f-few times, so I’m n-not especially familiar w-with the characters’ b-backstories…"

T-That was close… This kid really knows what he’s doing. I need to be very careful with what I tell him…

"It’s a fun game." Finn nodded as his smile retreated. "But I play a lot of stuff. Actually, do you have a Mist account? Disharmony? You could add me to your contacts and-"

"We’re here for the case." Makoto raised his hand. "I’m sure Mr. Tsukishima doesn’t need us to act as a rent-a-friend for his daughter."

Finn groaned and flicked his eyes towards Makoto. "Getting to know people is part of a detective’s job." Then he looked back at Norika. "Anyway, no pressure. All of my socials are ‘TheRealFabricant’ without spaces. Sometimes ‘TheRealFabricant99.’ Add me if you’d like, or don’t."

Makoto lowered his hand. "Any questions about the case?"

"None that your report didn’t answer." Finn closed his laptop. "Sorry for getting you out here for just one question."

"That has to do with the case." Makoto added.

"But thank you for your time, and it was nice to meet you."

"Y-You’re welcome," Norika replied with a small bow of her head, her voice as quiet as ever. "A-And it was n-nice to meet you as well," she added, even if, in actuality, she hadn’t enjoyed the experience in the slightest. "I-I’m sorry I c-couldn’t be more h-helpful."

As the man and boy got up, one of the maids returned to Norika’s side to hand her a cane. Then the maid departed as quickly as she could.

"Oh, but one more thing!" Finn turned around before leaving Norika’s sight. "It was hard to make out with the storm, but I thought I saw a Xolys poster through one of the windows." He flipped open his laptop. "He looks something like this? I thought it was your room, but you aren’t familiar with Gearmantic Hearts so I must be wrong. Or do they just have similar designs?" And on the laptop screen was a picture of the towering technomantic nightmare, a bit stretched out and low resolution, but still unmistakable to a true fan.

Norika’s heart practically stopped upon hearing the young detective’s latest words. Her eyes went wide while a trembling hand pressed against her chest.

H-How in the world could he have seen that?! her dizzy mind wondered frantically.

Indeed, it should have been impossible. Even discounting the rain, her window was tinted and the shades were almost completely drawn across it. Furthermore, the poster in question was located on the back wall of a walk-in clothing closet, one that, while it had been open at the time, was still impossible to see into from outside the house.

W-Who is this boy…?

Unconsciously biting her lip, Norika’s mind raced to formulate a convincing response, even as she desperately tried to compose herself.

"I-It was m-my brother’s…" She eventually answered, her soft voice even meeker than usual. Taking a gulp of air, she continued, "H-He l-liked the way that c-character l-looked, so he g-got that p-poster f-for his r-room. W-When he l-left for u-university, h-he let me h-have it."

Finn and Makoto just stared, then Finn tipped his head back with a grin. "Ah! That explains it!" He shut his laptop. "Your father showed me his room, and I noticed he had pictures of all the fighters but that one. That makes a lot of sense."

Makoto sighed. "We ready to go?"

"Yea." He backed out of the room while pointing at Norika. "You’re very lucky to have that! Those are quite collectable now!"

And with that, the young boy and the scruffy man were gone.

W-What… W-What even was that…?! Norika wondered, still in something of a state of shock even half a minute after the pair had departed. The whole scene had been so surreal, and it had added such drastic complexity to an already complex situation that she was having trouble figuring out where to even begin solving just one of its myriad facets. I-If only Kaito was here… the frail girl reflected somberly as she made her slow and shaky way back to her room, one trembling hand tightly gripping her cane, while the other continued to clutch her precious pendant. H-He’d know what to do… After all, he had always seemed to know the easy solution to any problem. But the sad fact was, Kaito wasn’t here, and Norika would have to solve this problem on her own…

March of the White Rabbit: A Roll-Your-Own Magical Girl Roleplay

Connie and Mia Stats

Connie

3 | 3 | 4 | 3 | 3
5 | 4 | 6 | 22 | 5

Oddball: Nightmares | Tentacles

Enhanced Weapon | Power Artifact | Mystic Artifact | Ally | Interdimensional Home

Focused | Mental Link | Hidden Death | Mana Font | Mystic Might

Alien Mind | Formless | Rival Force | Clueless

---

Mia

3 | 4 | 3 | 3 | 3
5 | 8 | 7 | 22 | 5

Wood | Barrage

Enhanced Weapon | Dual Weapon | Purification Artifact | Big Red Button

Blessing | Divine Competence | Gifted Item | Mana Font | Mystic Might

Rites| Arrogance | Big Brother | Clueless

“You are most welcome, dear Branch Nose,” Gaia told the ancient ent with a warm smile and a graceful curtsy. “It brings me the greatest of joy to know that I was able to make the longings of your heart a reality.”

Not wanting to delay a moment longer, Lily then declared that they should all get going, a course of action Gaia was in complete agreement with. Entering the secret passage, the verdant maiden was thankful that not a single trap or obstruction presented itself to hinder their progress. Of course, once they reached the end of the passage and entered what appeared to be a wine cellar, obstructions and potential traps seemed to be in abundance.

“I would be very surprised if that is the only trap in this chamber,” Gaia noted after Lily sneered at the obvious suspiciousness of the waiting wine glass. “And even discounting them, we still need to come up with a way to open that door without alerting the guards,” the botanical beauty added, pointing towards the metal door in question.

Alex went on to agree, before offering a suggestion on one possible way to go about circumventing the obstacle.

“That may be our best course of action,” Gaia replied with a nod. “Although I may perhaps be able to learn more about the nature of the passage behind that stone walrus head by employing a few specialized vine tendrils,” the nymph-like maiden added. “If it poses no danger, we may be able to make use of it, although I am hesitant to believe that shall actually be the case…”

Connie was there, too, of course, but she didn’t have much to contribute.

Poor Connie…

---

MDP Stats

Magical Dream Princess

3 | 4 | 3 | 3 | 3
4 | 9 | 4 | 24 | 9

Oddball: Sweet Dreams | Barrage

Wealth and Resources (not while tf'd) | Enhanced Weapon | Power Artifact | Dual Weapon | Natural Aging | Money | Intuition

Focused | Mental Link | Hidden Death | Mana Font | Mystic Might

Alien Mind | Formless | Rival Force | Clueless

“Like, thatsie watsie’s not a very wery nicey wicey thingie wingie to do at allsie wallsie!” an adorably indignant MDP huffed when Mac told her that the holo message was most likely sent by someone to trick them into harming their allies. “It’s, like, super duper awful wawful!” she added, with Mr. Plier nodding in agreement. “Like, Magical Dream Princess just can’t understandy wandy how anybodywody who lives in such a nicey wicey placey wacey like thisy wisy could be such a super duper meanie weanie head!”

However, MDP soon returned to her typical gleeful exuberance when she watched no small number of her new friends pile into Copy!Penney’s only moderately sized truck.

“Wowie zowie~! (giggle!)” the whimsical girl exclaimed amidst a burst of cute giggles. “Like, thatsie watsie totally wotally looks like one of those clowny wowny carsie warsie thingie wingies~! (giggle!)”

Then, Copy!Penny asked her to climb aboard as well.

“Like, Magical Dream Princess is super duper sorry worry, copy wopy Penny Wenny~!” the playful Princess of Dreams told the doppelgänger with a cheerful smile. “But, like, Magical Dream Princess is totally wotally gonna be the batony wony twirler wirler person werson for this paradey wadey thingie wingie~! (giggle!)” With that, she bounced back to the front of the procession and began once again leading the way with yet another sickeningly sweet and cringingly childish song…

An Idiot's Dungeon Union

Long ago, The Warrens began life as a humble fishing village, nestled between a river and a natural harbor, backed by a huge forest. While many were happy with their simple life, others looked upon the land with greater ambitions in mind. The Gaecia Empire conquered the village, naming it "Westeinde" and it swiftly became the empire's major port for trade. It wasn't long before the forests were cut back and replaced by farms, while a city of wood and stone was built, along with massive cargo ships, and warehouses, filled with many barrels and crates.

But the merchants of Westeinde were foolish, greedy men. They hired mages to cast curses on their rivals - and those rivals cast curses on them. And because the mages kept casting those curses daily, they began to build up. The ground began to tremble, storms became stronger, and more ships were lost at sea. Something had to snap - and snap it did. An ancient volcano stirred to life and erupted, covering Westeinde with ash and poisonous gas. Tremors made the land sink. Without the forest to hold the land above the town in place, the rains and tremors caused massive slides, further burying the city. But that wasn’t all. Amidst this cavalcade of destruction, a dungeon core was created. It fed on the collected curses, then slowly extended throughout the buried city as the surface recovered. And it began summoning monsters to protect itself.

After Gaecia, other empires rose and fell. There was more construction, and more disasters as the ancient curses wreaked havoc on the land. Seekers of ancient, long lost Westeinde never realized what lay buried far below their feet. After many hundreds of years, a new city was built on the site of the old, becoming once more a trading hub serving ships from all over the known world, while caravans carried their cargos to the new capital. But this renewed prosperity was not to last. Instead of another eruption, the new empire simply found a closer port to conquer.

The ships come rarely now. There hasn't been a caravan in over a decade. The wealthy merchants have fled with their money. But even as mercantile trade dies, a trade of a different kind has begun to flourish. Deep beneath the crumbling port, the dungeon core stirs to life, calling adventures to brave its labyrinthian depths and test its formidable defenses. Who will be the first to reach the ancient heart of The Warrens? Only time will tell…

-Ecks’phan de Bhul’s On the Storied History of The Warrens

Many brave and foolish parties of adventures challenged The Warrens’ darkened depths in the time since Ecks’phan de Bhul penned their famous chronicle, but none had managed to overcome its array of fiendish traps, nor its formidable host of monstrous guardians. Yet, not every adventurer that challenges The Warrens is part of a group, and not every monster is counted amongst its guardians…

How could anybody confuse meh with Zoppy?
-Zig

Dat’z it… Zig mentally encouraged the group of adventurers as she watched them from around the edge of a darkened corner. Just keep goin’ down dat tunnel…

Most would scoff at the idea of a lone adventurer braving any dungeon, and especially one as dangerous as The Warrens. Of course, those same people would also never imagine said lone explorer being a goblin. After all, monsters didn’t raid dungeons, they defended them. And yet, raiding dungeons was Zig’s primary occupation, and she’d gotten very good at it. It hadn’t always been this way, though. For a time, she and her brother, Zag, had been a part of Big Boss Zug’s warband, but while Zag had been content with a life of pillaging (when not serving as expendable fodder in battles), Zig longed for a grand adventure on which she could truly test her pillaging prowess. She wanted to raid a dungeon. The ensuing laughter of the other goblins, Zag included, did little to dissuade her, and shortly thereafter, Zig set off to find fame and fortune.

Now, several dungeons later, Zig, the infamous goblin adventurer, was braving her most challenging dungeon yet. The Warrens was larger, had more cunning traps, and was populated by fiercer monsters than any dungeon Zig had ever traveled through, with each floor ruled by an extraordinarily powerful monster, from stone colossi and cave witches, to lich kings and vampire lords. Even so, Zig’s strategies for dealing with these myriad challenges were the same as those she employed on all her previous adventures.

Exceptionally skilled at puzzles of all sorts, Zig was easily able to discern the locations and methods of operation for most traps, allowing her to either disarm, or simply avoid them as needed. Able-bodied and skilled in combat, she was also quite capable of dealing with most low to mid level adversaries, although she preferred to simply pass by them unnoticed, her small form and monstrous appearance aiding her greatly in this regard. Another factor that greatly helped with this, especially where large quantities of high-level foes were concerned, was the fact that she was almost never truly alone in a dungeon. All too often, at least one other party of adventures was exploring the place at the same time, and far more likely, that number was three or four times greater. By trailing along behind one of these groups, Zig allowed them to capture the attention of particularly dangerous enemies, while she simply slipped by, undetected amidst the swirling melee that ensued. On this particular floor, that strategy would be especially useful, as the sickly vines growing along the far end of the corridor gave evidence that this was the domain of the Gruesome Gardner.

An undead abomination that may have once been a Spriggan, the Gardner constantly added to its garden of undead botanical horrors, melding the remains of unfortunate adventurers into its twisted creations. Soon, the cramped catacombs would open into a sprawling forest of undead plant life, all controlled by the Gardner’s malign will. Zig wanted to ensure that when she reached that point, the boisterous party of adventures ahead of her had already fixed the attention of the Gardner and its creations firmly on themselves. Thus, she trailed along cautiously, her pace only quickening when the sound of battle cries reached her pointed ears.

Entering the forested chamber, Zig was greeted with the sight of a fierce battle, the various well-armed adventures clashing with a malformed horde of undead plant-animal amalgamations. An elven archer fired arrows coated in mystic flame at a massive wolf made of bark and thorns, while a paladin in an elaborate suit of gleaming sliver armor fended off a horde of corpses animated by vines as if they were puppets. Several other combats raged throughout the chamber, including a roguish looking young man in a long cloak dodging the attacks of a herd of deceptively playful skull-faced moss cats, while his pet crow dropped small explosives on them, but by then, Zig’s attention was solely focused on locating the quickest path through the fray to reach a passage to the next floor.

Keeping her yellow eyes peeled, Zig soon spotted what she was seeking, a small indentation on the far wall, clearly the outline of the doorway to a hidden passage. Racing over to it, while still remaining careful not to attract any unwanted attention to herself, the goblin girl had almost reached her destination, when she was confronted by a pair of undead amalgamations. The first resembled a tree with a skeletal face and thorny, bark armor, while the second vaguely resembled a giant cactus, with whip-like vine tendrils, covered in needle-sharp thorns. Reacting with swiftness, Zig swung her small, yet mighty, mace at the skele-tree, caving its bark-covered skull in, before driving a flying kick into the cactus creature’s great, cyclopean eye. The creature cried in pain as it fell over backwards, providing Zig with a clear path to her objective.

Yet, no sooner had she dispatched these foes, then a burly, flaming haired man carrying a giant cittern shouted, “Ya think you’re hot stuff?! I’m gonna show ya why I’m called the Immortal Volcano!” The next instant, the blazing bard forcefully sounded a mighty chord on his massive instrument, sparking a blinding explosion that swiftly engulfed the entire undead forest in a raging firestorm.

“Shit!”

Darting towards the secret door, Zig retrieved a gold key from a pocket on her large backpack and thrust it into a small opening in the stone wall. The hidden passage immediately opened, and the small goblin flung herself inside mere seconds before the searing conflagration consumed her. The passage turned out to be a slanted shaft, which Zig tumbled down for several seconds before finally reaching the bottom with a thud. Taking a moment to catch her breath and ensure her surroundings were free of threats, the goblin girl pulled the small canteen she’d purchased from old Torvald out of her backpack and took a few deep gulps of its contents. The enchanted water not only quenched her parched throat, but also cooled and healed her singed and bruised body, restoring her depleted strength so that she could continue on her quest.

Do you know who else is currently feeling a bit parched?

Zoppy

Zzzzzzz³
-Zoppy

Zoppy’s parched and passed-out form was woken by the refreshing sensation of water droplets seeping into her mouth. “Mmmm… Dat tastes niiiice…” she murmured groggily, still too tired to even open her eyes. When she finally regained the energy to do so, she discovered that someone had dragged her back into the dungeon’s cool and shady depths, while also placing a very moist clump of moss on top of her. After wringing the last of the water out of it (a task even a pitiful weakling like her could manage with some effort), Zoppy’s big ears twitched as her attention was caught by the Oracle’s booming voice. His excessive volume made her head hurt and she winced at each thunderous syllable. Even so, she was still able to make out the basic message the eldritch being was attempting to convey, although her reaction was probably the exact opposite of the one the strange creature was hoping for…

“Mor customerz…?!” Zoppy exclaimed, her green eyes seeming to sparkle. “Zoppy really needz ta finish ‘er shoppy!”

With that, she hefted her small pickax once more, and prepared to take another less-than-impressive swing…

March of the White Rabbit: A Roll-Your-Own Magical Girl Roleplay

Connie and Mia Stats

Connie

3 | 3 | 4 | 3 | 3
5 | 4 | 6 | 22 | 5

Oddball: Nightmares | Tentacles

Enhanced Weapon | Power Artifact | Mystic Artifact | Ally | Interdimensional Home

Focused | Mental Link | Hidden Death | Mana Font | Mystic Might

Alien Mind | Formless | Rival Force | Clueless

---

Mia

3 | 4 | 3 | 3 | 3
5 | 8 | 7 | 22 | 5

Wood | Barrage

Enhanced Weapon | Dual Weapon | Purification Artifact | Big Red Button

Blessing | Divine Competence | Gifted Item | Mana Font | Mystic Might

Rites| Arrogance | Big Brother | Clueless

“O-Oh… I-I see… W-Well, I’m g-glad she’s o-okay,” Connie told Rachel and the twins, her mask forming a relieved smile. Despite her innocent and ditzy nature, MDP was still an exceptionally powerful magical girl, as the inquisitor had attested, so she was probably just fine, even if Connie didn’t exactly know who this “Mac” person was. In fact, it was probably to be expected that the whimsical girl had made a new friend, or several dozen.

Speaking of new friends, Gaia’s attention was drawn to the departing form of Branch Nose as he headed for the nearby woodlet. Thanks to her empathic affinity for plant life of all kinds, the Daughter of Mother Earth was easily able to sense the great ent’s disappointment. She had hoped their leafy ally would be able to understand the reason for her request to remain behind as backup, but it seemed he had wished to somehow join the infiltration mission in a more direct manner. Pursing her emerald lips, the verdant maiden sighed in slight exasperation before gliding over to the departing oak.

“A moment, please, Branch Nose,” the nymph-like magical girl requested with a gentle smile as she placed a hand on one of his trunk-like legs. “My most sincerest apologies for not mentioning it earlier, but if you truly wish to accompany us, I believe I may be able to facilitate such a desire. This realm is replete with both mystic power and life energy,” the botanical beauty explained. “Thus, it should require little effort or expenditure of mana to cast even as potent a spell as this.”

Stepping back, Gaia knelt down and placed her hands upon the grass-covered ground. The spot glowed a vivid green as the soil was infused with mystic energy. Slowly rising, the verdant maiden’s hands wove the vine-like tendrils of life energy as though she were a sculptor shaping clay. Soon enough, the Daughter of Mother Earth had grown a second, smaller tree man, with a visage that greatly resembled Branch Nose’s.

“There. I believe this shall serve as a suitable vessel,” Gaia noted with an approving nod, before placing one hand upon the new tree man, and her other on Branch Nose. After closing her eyes for a moment, she added. “I have just established a link between you and this vessel,” she told the ancient ent. “Once you settle your true body amongst your fellow trees, you may freely inhabit it so as to join us for the next stage of our quest. Is this solution an agreeable one?” she inquired.

---

MDP Stats

Magical Dream Princess

3 | 4 | 3 | 3 | 3
4 | 9 | 4 | 24 | 9

Oddball: Sweet Dreams | Barrage

Wealth and Resources (not while tf'd) | Enhanced Weapon | Power Artifact | Dual Weapon | Natural Aging | Money | Intuition

Focused | Mental Link | Hidden Death | Mana Font | Mystic Might

Alien Mind | Formless | Rival Force | Clueless

MDP watched with growing confusion as the Penny copy plainly illustrated that there was no one trapped inside her, a puzzled and slightly distraught frown marring her adorable visage.

“B-But thensie wensie… Why did the holography waphy message wessage Macy Wacy showed Magical Dream Princess say there was somebody wody trappy wappied~?” the whimsical girl inquired, tilting her head as Mr. Plier stood idly by, looking rather disappointed by the fact that his services wouldn’t actually be needed. “Like, Magical Dream Princess doesn’t understandy wandy thatsie watsie at allsie wallsie…”

After all, it wasn’t as if her new friend would do something super duper mean like try to trick a super gullible girl like herself by relaying a fake message, right?

An Idiot's Dungeon Union

Bet ya weren’t expectin’ meh, were ya?
-Elzy

“Dat da best ya got?!” Elzy taunted over the howling wind, her mouth curled into a toothy grin. The mangled forms of nearly a dozen hirelings surrounded the goblin girl, whose own diminutive stature allowed her to maintain her balance atop the rain and blood-slicked deck of The Herald of Free Trade far better than any of her larger opponents as the massive galleon violently rocked and pitched on the tempest-tossed, wind-lashed waters of Burgher’s Bay. “An’ ere ah wuz dinkin’ diz’d be a challenge!”

Long had Elzy been waiting for this day, indeed, this very moment. All her myriad adventures and journeys across the cold and forbidding land of Ulrania in an effort to break the terrible curse those malevolent faeries had placed upon her had led her here, to the amulet of transmorgraphic harmonization. Now, just as it was about to leave Ulrania’s storm-wracked shores, perhaps never to return, destiny had granted Elzy this one, final chance to obtain its profound power. And she wasn’t about to let it slip away…

“AH ha! AH ha!” her old foe, Grand Burgher Burlonious Burghotho chortled as he sneered down at the goblin girl from his place upon the ship’s bridge, jagged tendrils of lightening arcing across the turbulent clouds above him. “Thy arrogance merely proves thy ignorance, wretched cur! Thy attempt to invade mine manse was folly enough,” he continued, his bombastic voice carrying over even the din of the raging storm as the rotund, fur-coated merchant gestured in the direction of Burgherheim, the wealthy trading port’s many lights barely visible amidst the sheets of rain. “But to think thou couldst purloin mine most prized possession on the high seas, bereft of aid or means of escape, marks thee as an utter FOO-El!”

“Yeah? Well, ah don’t see much stoppin’ meh from comin’ up dere an’ pluckin’ dat shiny offa yer fat, fancy pantz neck!” Elzy shot back through the howling gale, her goblinoid physiology allowing her to endure the biting winds and icy rain in little more than a bikini, granting her an even greater degree of maneuverability compared to her burly, heavily-clothed foes.

Yet, just before she could make her leap, several new opponents rushed up from below deck.

“Thou hast only faced the most bargainous of mine hirelings!” Burghotho taunted from on high, the amulet of transmorgraphic harmonization glowing where it rested amidst the Grand Burgher’s panoply of other gilded and bejeweled necklaces. “Now, behold mine most proficient condottieri!”

“Heh. Ah ain’t seein’ much…” Elzy retorted, the blade of her readied, water and blood-coated sword gleaming in the light of the full moon as it peered down on the unfolding melee from between the clouds’ ragged edges.

With an enraged roar, a savage, tattoo-covered brute from the southern jungles swung a machete the size of Elzy’s torso down upon the goblin girl with the clear intent to cut her in twain. With a mighty clash of steel on steel, Elzy met the massive blade with her own weapon and employed the force of the blow, coupled with the slippery deck, to allow her to slide between the brute’s legs. Such was the speed at which the little goblin traveled across the slick planks that she was also able to just barely avoid the subsequent chop of a great axe swung by a bearded berserker from the northern seas, and a hail of spiked disks hurled by a masked warrior from the far-off Lands of Dawn.

“Gonna ‘ave ta do better’n dat!” Elzy quipped as she finally skidded to a stop just in time to leap up to the bridge before a mighty wave washed across the main deck. No sooner had she landed atop the bridge’s gilded railing then a new threat declared itself.

“Engarde, cretin!” cried a foppishly attired duelist wielding twin, impeccably crafted rapiers as he lunged forward amidst a rapid flurry of thrusts.

“No dankz, pal,” Elzy replied as she dove under his blur of blades and sent a clawed foot shooting into his booted ankle. “Maybe ya’ll ‘ave better luck wiv da fishez!” she added as the strike, paired with the man’s own forward momentum, sent him flying over the railing and straight into the path of another deck-sweeping wave.

Now all that remained was Burghotho…

Pursuing the rotund merchant into the captain’s cabin, Elzy found her now-greatly-alarmed foe cowering behind his desk, his back to the rain-streaked windows.

“Enda da line, fatty,” she told him, her narrowed eyes on high alert for any last-ditch tricks. “‘And over dat trinket an’ ya can keep all diz ovver crap. Dat iz, if diz tub don’t sink.”

“T-Thou thinks thy hast won?!” Burghotho shouted, even as his hand slid underneath the desktop.

“Yeah,” Elzy replied with a firm nod as she stalked forward with all the inexorable certainty of death itself. “Ah do.”

She was less than a meter from the Grand Burgher, when, suddenly…

Wait…

This isn’t the right goblin girl.

You don’t want to read the boring story of a refined elven maiden who was cursed to transform into a crude goblin girl every night’s quest to remove her terrible affliction, a journey which saw her compete with the bandit king in a trial of thieving prowess, fight her way through a war between Ulrania’s two largest kingdoms, escape a witch hunt ordered by the miracle-working Priest King of Stennar, battle the warped creations of the reborn Beastshaper, join the assassin’s guild, and finally reach the wealthy settlements of Burgher’s Bay, all while working as a selfless healer by day, and a roguish sell-sword by night.

No, you want to read about…

Zoppy

Hi! Hi!
-Zoppy

Zoppy was very happy when Muste acceded to her request. “Dankz lotz!” she told the illithid with a big smile. Waving as she watched the tentacle-faced being depart, an idea slowly formed in the deformed goblin’s pitiful excuse for a brain. If the outside world really was full of wondrous things, would it really be so bad if she took a small break from working on her shop to have a look around herself? With this in mind, Zoppy ever-so-slowly made her stumbling way to the cave entrance. Upon reaching the threshold, the emaciated goblin took one, awestruck look at the verdant landscape beyond... and promptly passed out from heat stroke.

Someone might want to drag her back inside…

March of the White Rabbit: A Roll-Your-Own Magical Girl Roleplay

Connie and Mia Stats

Connie

3 | 3 | 4 | 3 | 3
5 | 4 | 6 | 22 | 5

Oddball: Nightmares | Tentacles

Enhanced Weapon | Power Artifact | Mystic Artifact | Ally | Interdimensional Home

Focused | Mental Link | Hidden Death | Mana Font | Mystic Might

Alien Mind | Formless | Rival Force | Clueless

---

Mia

3 | 4 | 3 | 3 | 3
5 | 8 | 7 | 22 | 5

Wood | Barrage

Enhanced Weapon | Dual Weapon | Purification Artifact | Big Red Button

Blessing | Divine Competence | Gifted Item | Mana Font | Mystic Might

Rites| Arrogance | Big Brother | Clueless

Thankfully, the secret passage in the castle wall was opened without issue. Unfortunately, it immediately became apparent that Branch Nose would be unable to accompany them down the narrow passage, a fact the ancient tree promptly gave voice to.

“Thank you for accompanying us this far,” Gaia told the great tree as she placed a hand against his trunk. “If possible, would you be so kind as to wait for us in the cluster of trees that we were just taking concealment in?” the verdant maiden inquired.

A moment later, the sound of voices were heard around the corner of the castle wall. Gaia placed herself in front of Connie and readied her mystic staff, but it soon became apparent that the voices belonged to allies, rather than enemies, although not before Lily gave voice to a startled scream that the botanical beauty fervently hoped wouldn’t attract any attention. Indeed, as the bubbly greenette proceeded to exchange words with Rachel and Alicia, Gaia couldn’t help but reflect on the puzzling lack of defenses for what was ostensibly the seat of the Queen of Heart’s power. The troops that had chased after Mayra couldn’t possibly be all the forces the castle contained, and yet, despite the sizable commotion just beyond its walls, no further response or investigation had manifested itself.

I only hope the reason for that isn’t because we’re walking into a trap… the verdant maiden mused, her emerald lips forming a concerned frown.

Meanwhile, Connie waved to the diminutive twins who had arrived with the Beacon contingent. “H-Hi, Ronin! H-Hi, Miko!” she greeted, her mask forming a happy smile. “I-I’m r-really glad e-everything went w-well at t-the f-factory. B-But, um, w-wasn’t M-Magical Dream Princess w-with you, t-too?” she asked, curious as to the current whereabouts of her whimsical friend.

---

MDP Stats

Magical Dream Princess

3 | 4 | 3 | 3 | 3
4 | 9 | 4 | 24 | 9

Oddball: Sweet Dreams | Barrage

Wealth and Resources (not while tf'd) | Enhanced Weapon | Power Artifact | Dual Weapon | Natural Aging | Money | Intuition

Focused | Mental Link | Hidden Death | Mana Font | Mystic Might

Alien Mind | Formless | Rival Force | Clueless

Back at said whimsical friend’s now-halted procession, Mister Plier was just about to begin prying the Penny copy open, when the duplicate protested that there wasn’t anyone trapped inside her that needed rescuing.

“Huh~?” MDP inquired, tilting her head in confusion. “But, like, why did Penny Wenny’s holography waphy message wessage say there was a person werson insidey widey you~?” However, before the facsimile could respond, an idea popped into the playful Princess of Dreams’ bubbly brain. “Oh~! Magical Dream Princess knows~! (giggle!)” she exclaimed cheerfully. “Like, maybe waybe the person werson insidey widey you made you super duper forgetful wetful~! Magical Dream Princess is, like, super duper familiar wiliar with thatsie watsie~! (giggle!)” the whimsical girl explained with a wink. “Like, she forgets super duper important wortant stuffy wuffy all the timey wimey, which is why she got this super duper special wecial dreamy weamy journal wournal thingie wingie to remember wember everythingie wingie she needs to~! (giggle!)” she added, holding up the sticker and glitter-covered book in question.

An Idiot's Dungeon Union

Zoppy

Time fer Zoppy ta make her shoppy!
-Zoppy

To Zoppy’s great joy, Muste not only bought the squishy stone, but was more than willing to purchase whatever else she offered him, and soon she had amassed quite a sizable collection of shinies. Of course, there was more to do than just make sales. She needed to find a suitable location for her shop. The current dungeon layout might not have been entirely conducive to facilitating this, but the deformed goblin eventually settled on creating a small space for herself just outside the main dungeon core chamber (around H6). Most of the others were hard at work digging in their own areas, so Zoppy borrowed the smallest pickax she could find and began setting to work herself. This was as slow and ineffective a process as might be expected. Just taking a single swing, which struck the cavern wall with all the force of a gentle whisper, would so exhaust the emaciated goblin girl’s meager energy reserves that she would have to take a nap immediately afterwards. This process repeated itself many times, with only occasional interruptions to sell some lucky pebbles, until she was awoken from her latest nap by Muste making an announcement.

Hobbling over, Zoppy raised a deformed hand, once the illithid had finished speaking. “Could ya bring Zoppy back sum lucky fingz, too?!” the goblin girl inquired hopefully. She had already found lots of wonderful items in the dungeon itself, so she could only imagine what wonders awaited in the forest that lay beyond its entrance.