Questlog: Into the Giga Dungeon™—Part III

Need to catch up? Here is Part I, & here is Part II!

Over a long questing career, one tends to develop a sense for how a given quest might go. A feel for the “vibes” of an adventure, a mortal might say. Some, smooth sailing—like the time I sailed to the Nega-Moon to retrieve the Unamerican Flag, & the Moon Pixies had boxed it up for me already. Others, are Hell—right now, staring at the bones of an NLRB compliance officer, my Hell Sense is tingling. I descended into Tesla’s GIGA DUNGEON™ to find information on the Elon Husks…but I begin to fear I may ne’er ascend again.

Earlier, whilst skulking about the Employee Oubliette, I noticed graffiti—not prominent, nothing that could adorn the side of an abandoned luxury skyscraper, but still brazen. Persistent. Defiant. Snatches of union mottoes, IWW symbols, even doodles of “Elon the Father” in various humorous poses (crying, eating money, nude, &c.). Even in this hopeless place, fire remained in the trapped workers’ bellies, & thus I began to hope, too. I followed a trail of anarchist cats to this dank, reeking corner, the “NLRB Compliance Zone.” To find only a cage, & merely bones—a grim irony, & an even grimmer warning.

Swiftly as my hopes were kindled, they were snuffed by this horrid sight. I expect pitifully little of mortal governments, but at the least I expect them to revenge a slain bureaucrat! Nay, such is the power of Musk & his Husks, his arrogance & impunity. I can feel the sands of time slipping at speed now; the vibes, more rotten than ever. I note the directions to “Husk Assembly” on the slimy stone wall; there I know, I shall find my answers, or my doom. I prefer answers, frankly. I am not afraid to admit, I very much do not wish to die in the bowels of a Capitalist dungeon. Other wizards would lie, they would weave webs of valor & bravery, but this is no grand hero’s journey. This is an errand gone wrong, at best. In & out, with stealth, I thought! Alas. I shall find no glory down here—but if I tread wisely, I may yet keep my guts intact…

Part IV, the finale, next week!

If ye have enjoyed this story & the Scriptorium, please consider sharing it with a friend! & if ye can afford $5 to support our work, ‘t would mean the world to us here. Before I sign off…

On A Rainy Night

Like my boon companion Summersbane, I am a creature of the cold. I like the cool & dark, & a rainy night brings both in abundance. There is little more peaceful, to me, than the pattering of rain-drops on cobbles, of birds chatting about the weather in their cozied nests, of the trees themselves luxuriating in nature’s finest bath.

I wish all mortals could experience this peaceful moment—woe betide, & curses befall, those who rob innocents of their rainy nights. May the warmongers never again know the calm of a stormy sera, ‘til such a day as they make amends for their bloodthirst. The amends would take, I expect, a few more lifetimes than they have.

I will leave ye for now, & turn back to my window a while—gratias ago for joining me on this quest, for reading in the Scriptorium, & I shall write again on Wednesday, with CHEERFUL NEWS of this week’s guest!

Thine, in rain,
Amoenus Franco
Wizard, Writer, Rainsman