Questlog: Into the Giga Dungeon™ - Part I

Often I find myself on adventures, sojourns, expeditions—but quests, those I cherish! I consider them the chocolate bar donuts of journeys (unlike migrations, which I consider the burnt turnips of journeys). Today I embark on a new quest, one fraught with peril, one ripe with potential—a quest into the depths…OF THE GIGA DUNGEON™.

Questlog: Into the Giga Dungeon™—Part I

As I stand, posing heroically, at the bottom stair of the looming hike up to Tesla’s secret, wretched Giga Dungeon™, I feel the twin-pang of Fear & Doubt. Will my powers fail me? Will I recall my spells? Can I survive the traps, the guards, the inevitable final battle? I take a long breath, mutter a calming motto in a language unheard in 10 centuries, & set aside these querulous self-queries. My worries matter not, I tell myself, for I have no choice but victory.

Many mortals find themselves harried by the miser Elon Musk—his workers, his children, his customers, his fellow humans—but of late I have been troubled by ELON HUSKS. Half machine, half monster, all up in my business! One such Husk, posing as a frost giant thegn, kidnapped my dragon-pal Fiammuccio, kidnapped my witch-pal Cynthia Weatherwax—waged terror from his MOUNTAIN OF POWER! Summersbane & I obliterated the shape-stooge, but we wondered, why? Why would Elon make these Husks, why send them to impersonate the giants, why cause all this trouble? I knew I would get no answers from the man himself, so EMPTY is his brain & so VAPID is his speech. Nay, I would take the Dwarven option—& DELVE.

So, upward I step, whispering a spell of stealth. If we fail to uncover the plot behind the Husks, if we fail to stop their manufacture, then who knows what dangers may come? If they can impersonate frost giants, why not generals? Kings? Or, Heavens forbid, an alderman? Billionaires have stolen much power over this past century, but the line must be drawn at shapeshifting cyborgs! (I would hope to then draw more lines, until billionaires no longer menace this world—but I shall begin with the cyborgs). I slip past the sleeping, underpaid, non-union guards, & open a creaking, rotting, side-door—the kind OSHA clearly never inspects. A blast of fetid, humid air rushes to greet me; I hold my nose, grip my staff, & enter…

Part II—next Monday!

Free Hex of the Week

In a world so beset by problems of every sort, yet also so busy, ‘tis hard to find the time to write one’s own hexes. Please then, enjoy this free hex, constructed carefully in my operatory, & tested on several private equity executives! I am certain it can apply to most any modern mortal situation:

O, by all powers at my disposal, I command this hex strike true! Let the villain who hath wronged me—the powerful financier who purchased a controlling stake in my business, then loaded it with debt, cut staff, & leased the IP to a Dutch holding company via an Irish shell corporation as a way of laundering profits, & who stole my cloak in the baths—let his guts become as water, let his butt become as stone, & let his heart be struck with the wretched curse of COMPASSION!

I hope this hex is useful to many of our dear readers—I am told it is an increasingly common offence, this stealing of clothes from public baths. A sad state of affairs!

Please let me know if ye make use of the hex, & if ye have a situation that could use a free hex, leave a comment! I hope this has been an enjoyable installment—if so, please share it with a friend! The more the merrier—& the more merrier, the more POWERFUL. & THE MORE POWERFUL, THE MORE UNSTOPPABLE WE BECOME 🧙‍♂️

MIGHTY CHEERS,
Amoenus Franco
Wizard, Writer, Questor