From NoelW: Sorceress, number 3, please (30 points) (or possibly 44. I’m just saying…)

“Quick!” shouts Getrude. “The invaders are on our heels. We’re in real trouble. We need a mime, and PDQ, to boot!”

Hastily Clerihew mimes a kettle and a teapot which he carefully swirls with mimed piping hot water. Then he decants two spoons of mimed tealeaves in, then takes his mimed cup, into which he first pours milk and then the boiling tea, then he mimes tipping the tea out of the cup into –

“A saucer? A saucer?”

“But there’s something around the saucer. Like a napkin. Or a skirt. A dress? What kind of saucer wears a dress?”

“A female saucer. Sauceress. Clerihew’s right! This is a job for the Sorceress. She can whoosh us out of here straight to the Snowlord’s Altar.”

Together, the party sing, or mime, or woof, as appropriate, the following:

 O sorceress! O sorceress!
More beautiful than Good Queen Bess.
You helped before. Nevertheless
we once again need your largesse. 

O sorceress! O sorceress!
Mistress of extraordinariness.
We’re stuck once more in some distress.
Can you assist us? Please say ‘Yes’!

There’s a clatter of crochet hooks and headphones, as a rather young sorceress appears before them.

“Is that the truly the Lady Sarah? Does the Lady Sorceress who rules this dungeon really have purple hair?” Elfbow whispers. “With crochet hooks in it?”

“I’m sure that, if the Lady Sarah does not, at this precise moment, have hair of violet, lilac or amaranthine, she could if she really wanted to and it would undoubtedly look extremely fetching upon her, such that she would certainly deserve to be on the cover of Vogue or Hair Today. But I’m equally sure that her current style is perfect, whatever it may be, thankyou very much for noticing, but what, indeed, are you suggesting is wrong with her appearance, and perhaps you could in future refrain from making personal remarks which objectify magical beings in a gender-specific way, Elfbow?” ^*1

“But should she really be wearing an owl? Look what it’s done to the back of her dress.”

“Shush, elf.”

“B*gg*r! I’ve dropped a stitch,” exclaims the manifesting miss.

“We’re about to be attacked,” says Titchy. “It would help us a great deal if you could transport us, instantly, or even sooner, straight to the Snowlord’s Altar.”

The purple-haired sorceress looks up from her invisible crochet.

“Really? Do I have to?”

“It’d be most welcome and sure to be rewarded by our magical overlords in some future incarnation.”

“Ok then. Say after me, the magical word. Are you ready? One, two three – SOCKS!”

And with that single word the party are transported directly to where they don’t want to go. Not to the Snowlord’s Altar – because, if you’ve been following the story, they’ve not yet met the minimum qualification to progress, but to the next best thing.

Or, in fact, the next worst thing – namely, the Lair of, as variously recorded in different versions of the manuscript “the Spider”, “the Beast” or, most accurately of all “THE BEAST!!”

***

(*1) This is in no way intended to be construed as flattery directed at the Lady Sarah, with the thinly veiled purpose of grubbing extra unjustified bonus points. Far from it. Clearly it’s a serious and timely commentary on the gender bias and lack of fashion sense of the vast majority of dungeon adventurers (and, indeed, the majority of vast dungeon adventurers). So that’s why it might be worth a few extra points. Not due to flattery at all. Oh, no, certainly not! How could one possibly flatter perfection?

The sorceress’s (‘ss??) apprentice here is built from North Star’s Frostgrave wizards, set 2, one of the best pieces of fantasy kit ever released. I really like constructing wizards, whether or not they’ll ever be used in a game and North Star’s two wizards sets are brimful of possibilities, especially when kitbashed with other sets.

This particular personage is modelled on my daughter, Tasha, who did have purple hair when I began, but had flame red when we Zoomed about a week ago, so probably has pink and green by now. She is very fond of owls and of Harry Potter, so she’s in her HufflePuff colours here. At her feet is her cat, Mirri, whom she’s had to be parted from since the first lockdown, who, yesterday, we had to leave at the vets and for whom the news is currently not looking good. Mirri is nearly 17 years old – a brilliant innings for a cat, but she’s currently rather ill. Tasha, is rather older than 17 (though you wouldn’t guess from the above), a lovely, loving, wonderful daughter, but one who would very much benefit from a hug currently, if you’re able to spare a moment from your manly (or womanly) painting tables to send her a virtual one across the aether.

Scoring: I can see two ways this could go:

(a)   Sorceress – 20 for the transporter, 5 for being a sorceress, and 5 for the figure herself. Total: 30

(b) 30 (as above) + 2 for cat, +2 for owl, +10 bonus for in no way flattering politically correct aside subtly inserted in text. Total: at least 44.

So that’s 30 points then. Sigh!