[Episode 264739] [Episode 264739]Walking out of the gunsmith, Britanny felt... not dissatisfied, but rather was left with a sense of unease. Sure, she was going to receive one hell of a weapon–Kat was insistent that she would give the woman her all–but it was going to take time; a week minimum, even with preferential appointment: i.e. half the work-day dedicated exclusively to her obsidian flintlock. It was going to be a fine weapon, no worries there... but she was going to be carrying around a weapon that could fire silver. That seemed entirely counter-productive to a lycanthrope like herself.
And the reason she needed it was because of werewolves. Werewolves! And there were different variants atop of it! It invoked feelings in her that she wasn’t sure how to acknowledge. Was it fear? Loathing? Excitement? Hope? She could remember the trouble she had against Jetta all so long ago when the Alpha of the Werewolf Clan had ambushed her at the Garden of Even and then AGAIN at the caverns below El Dorado due to Tanya’s meddling. Sure, she had a Dungeon Heart now and actually killing her was going to take care more than felling her in battle... but that sensation of helplessness that filled her at the time came back to her and filled the woman with absolute dread.
Yet at the same time... these were entirely different lycanthropes with a different history. Maybe should could reach out to them. Maybe there were werecats too; lycans that the people didn’t know about. It might be a chance to meet others of her race or even be a link to finding her way back home.
To find out though, that meant Brit was going to have to find them. That likely meant fighting them, considering that–if what Kat said was true–the werewolves tended to be very distrustful of outsiders. Investing in a Silver augment seemed like the right idea, especially if she came across a ‘White’.
“Thank God there’s no LAPD here. With all my black clothes and gunning down a white lycan, I’d have the police all over my ass in minutes,” the werecheetah keeper mused to herself, trying to find some way to alleviate the situation. It was definitely something to talk to The Mentor about when she saw him again.
“You say something, Keeper?” Horny queried, having noticed the murmuring of his employer. Not that he really cared one way or another if she felt melancholy... but she HAD gotten him the suit he desired so he felt he at least owed her the lip-service level of his job requirement... at least until she got around to making his lair. Then to hell with everyone else.
Hearing the demonic warrior say that caused the gaoblin to turn her head. “Is something wrong, Lady Gia?” Truth be told, she did feel something was off with her once the woman she was sworn to serve was told this world had werewolves, but Crescens had figured she could ask once they were back in the comforts of the dungeon. If even the uncaring killing machine noticed it, then it must have been bothering the werecheetah worse than she thought it had.
“Huh?” Britanny blinked and shook her head, trying to clear it of her thoughts. “No, no, nothing’s wrong. Just making a joke at the expense of peace keepers everywhere because they keep doing such stereotypical things and stupid shit where I come from.”
Hearing that explanation, Ayane nodded her head in agreement. “Tell me about it, Mistress Cheetah...” the woman sighed. “You walk around in tight leathers, get paid to serve pain, and suddenly you have town guards banging on the door of your residence at one in the morning, evicting you from the town for merely aspiring orgasms in the oh-so-sexually repressed people, and then chasing you underground...”
Oh yes, this dark mistress was speaking from experience all right...
Chuckling nervously, Britanny couldn’t help but sweat-drop at that. “Uh... right.” But, she had to admit, that... actually sounded pretty interesting. “I’m hoping no one was forced...”
The Elite dark mistress snorted at that. “Please, Mistress Cheetah! I have my pride and dignity here!” It was utterly offensive to think that she forced anyone to do something like that.
“Ah, okay...” the feline lycanthrope keeper nodded slowly.
“Forcing means that they were saying no the whole time.” Ayane crossed her arms over her chest and turned away, huffing. “And I only do that if I’m working a professional torture room for a keeper...” she turned to the feline lycanthrope with eyes wide with hope. “Oh please say that went we get to Old Man Bouldarr’s you’ll get the schematics for a High Quality Torture Room! I promise I’ll be ever so good and break your enemies within the hour of having them delivered! REALLY!” For all the fun she got to have on topside raids as one of the, ‘Original Sins’, Keeper Pilfor NEVER went out of her way to give the woman the torture room of her darkest dreams... mostly because the bitch didn’t let them take prisoners. It was always kill the majority and leave the rest to spread the tale.
Once again, a sweat-drop began trailing down the side of her head. Sighing in exasperation, the werecheetah could only mumble, “We’ll... we’ll see...” granted, she knew she was probably going to need one. It’s just that the excitement that this version of Ayane had for getting one was rather unnerving. Kind of reminded Britanny of herself and Gina on Christmas morning, actually. “Poor Dad. I hope he’s doing okay...”
Speaking of dear old dad, she really needed to check her tome with Jon. He’d been awfully quiet since The Mentor showed up.
Ayane grinned and bounced up and down on her heels; an impressive feet with spikes that tall. “Thank you, Mistress! Thank you!”
“Oh, just kiss her already!” Horny looked at a random passerby as he shouted at Ayane. Privately, Horny didn’t care, but it might be amusing to see at least.
He always appreciated a chance at flustering his boss.
Hey! Just because he was going to leave her alone until he got his personal lair didn’t mean he couldn’t instigate trouble between her and everyone else. He was a natural devil’s advocate, after all! Had the horns and everything!
Practically purring at that suggestion, Ayane moved to saddle herself up beside her new boss; left arm slinking around the furry woman’s waist. “Oh? What do you think, my Mistress? Shall we find a room and bond?” She turned her head and whispered hotly in the werecheetah’s ear. “I know just as much about pleasing the female body as I do the male one...” she then gently nibbled on Britanny’s ear for emphasis.
For her part, Crescens was going flush in the face at what she was seeing... and silently glad it wasn’t her that was the target of the woman’s attentions. “I better make sure her ladyship doesn’t imbibe in any alcohol that’s heavily enchanted...” she could remember what happened that night between the two of THEM years ago all too well.
Britanny twitched as she went flush with embarassment. “Well, that is–HEY!” She yelped as she felt Ayane squeeze her butt. “What’s with the groping back there!?”
Ayane blinked her eyes before smirking. She then disappeared from the feline woman’s side. “Would you prefer this, my Mistress?” She asked and glomped onto Britanny’s back, pressing her chest into the spotted beauty’s shoulders before reaching around and fondling the werecheetah’s impressive breasts. “I find a lot of women like it when they get fondled like this.”
“WHOO HOO!” Went several onlookers as they watched; jeering, cheering and of course, leering. Oh, so much leering!
For his part, Horny cackled. Oh, this was rich. How it warmed the blackened cockles of his heart. This may not have been the all-soothing sensation he got from a job well done of fighting and killing... but it was proving itself to be a nice close second. Not a bad pass-time to settle for, actually. He’d need to goad the dark mistress more when things got boring enough.
“GAH! STOP!” The werecheetah yelped. “I COMMAND IT!” the spotted blonde feline yelled, squirming as her breasts were hefted up. “S-seriously! I mean it!”
“Can’t command me too much yet, Keeper...” the dark mistress cooed into her ear. “I’m not properly bonded to the Dungeon Heart yet... which means I can show you all the appreciation you deserve and you’ll know I mean it from the bottom of MY heart, and that it’s not fabricated by the enchantments of the minion bond.”
The ex-high priestess of the gaoblins began looking about the tunnel. She needed to find the store so they could get what was needed for the dungeona nd hopefully distract Ayane. The Mentor said it would be around this chamber somewhere...
Britanny yelped as Ayane’s hands got under her clothes and started fondling her breasts directly. “Hey! Knock it off, I mean it!” She gasped as she felt Ayane’s fingers flick her nipples. “If you don’t stop, I’m going... to...” she trailed off, moaning softly.
“Ye~eeees?” The dominatrix minion purred into Britanny’s ear. “Should we find a room, Mistress? I’ll make this feel much... much more... incredible there.”
“Why wait? Go right here!” One of the onlookers–an overexcited orc–cheered.
Crescens felt like slapping her face, this was starting to get out of hand.
Fortunately, with as many of the Skid Row inhabitants trying to move in closer for a better look at the show the Elite dark mistress was putting on, this had the effect of thinning out the number of people that had been crowding the chamber. Right away, the pointy-eared woman caught sight of the very shop they needed: a stone front that was established by the fact it was marked with a glowing purple question mark within a box right over the entrance.
An entrance, Crescens was happy to note, was once more too small for the Horned Reaper’s mass to enter. "Keep–Lady Gia!" the pointy-eared woman corrected herself. Her right ethereal hand rose up, the woman pointing across the street with her Void Claw. “Over there! It’s Bouldarr’s Base Furnishings!”
Britanny’s eyes snapped wide-open. “R-really!?” the werecheetah chirruped. Shuddering as the woman continued to play with her tits with those closed hands, the feline werecat was quick to snap, “St-stop it! We have work to do now! We’re here!”
Pouting, the dark mistress looked up to see where the armless one was pointing with her magical appendage. Well, shoot. She was hoping they wouldn’t figure that out yet. “Oh... very well...” she replied with a sigh of disappointment as she pulled her hands out of the feline keeper’s top.
“Awwww...” the crowd complained, hoping for more of a show than what they got.
“I’m half tempted to find a way to char broil all of them...” the feline dungeon keeper muttered irritably. She then turned to gaze at her minion of, ‘Kill First, Kill Second, Ask Questions MUCH Later’. “Hey, Horny! Can I char broil people who annoy me?” She was less angry at those people and more sexually frustrated. Had they not been in public, she might have been more willing to let Ayane show her what she could really do.
“...Bad Cheetah, stop thinking of girls that way...” she muttered to herself.
A most insidious smile came to the demon’s features. “Fire to burn fire,” Horny was more than happy to remind her.
A devious grin came to Britanny’s face as well. “Oh, ri~iiiight...” she began top chuckle darkly. Already she could feel the flow the Dungeon Heart's mana flow through her.
So did Crescens. “Lady Gia,” the feline lycan’s lady-in-waiting spoke up in a chiding voice. “Remember, we still have business and need to come back for other things, like your gun. Don’t go burning any bridges until you’re sure you won’t screw yourself over.” Not that she wanted the woman to cause trouble at all, but if she didn’t let the werecat know the opportunity would arise later, she’d just get all argumentative.
That gave the spotted cat-woman pause. Well, shit. The gaoblin had a point there. “Fine...” the werecat huffed, making a promise to herself that vengeance would come swiftly when she was sure she didn’t need this place anymore. She turned to the Reaper, shuddering as she still couldn’t get over the sight of that ugly green suit on someone of his skin-tone. “Horny,” she stated in a commanding voice that was appropriate of a dungeon keeper. “You stay out here and watch my slaves!” She motioned over to the three males.
Smiling, the Horned Reaper nodded his head. “Will do!” he promised the woman who was his current employer.
Britanny frowned as he had agreed to that far too easily. “And I mean you have to protect them! Not just watch as someone tries to steal them or attempt organ theft... AGAIN!” It had been so annoying to step out of Kat’s, only to find two rogues and a dark elf attempting to harvest one of Louie’s kidneys.
Horny crossed his arms over his chest and pouted most petulantly. “Oh sure! Take away all the fun of it, why don’t you!?” He grumbled irritably before answering, “But if that’s what Mistress wants, that’s what she gets.”
“Good!” Cheetah stated as she started to walk across the street. “Ladies! You’re with me,” she told Crescens and Ayane. She relaxed as the two started to flank her; the presence of a group with such power enough to cause the gathered onlookers to part and allow them through. After all, when keepers were serious, no one wanted to be on the receiving end of a lightning bolt.
Walking to the establishment, Britanny placed her hand on the steel door. Putting her strength behind it, she pushed the barricade inward, causing the slightly rusted metal of the frame to screech as the hinges worked.
Again, the work-space reminded the spotted blonde of the female dark elf’s place. Small but not too cramped, enough to do business at least. It was actually surprising he had so little space, considering he had a much larger store-front that Katherine had.
Speaking of said owner, there he was. Standing behind the desk was a creature that stood at least an entire head taller than Britanny herself–but still shorter than the Horned Reaper. Covered in dark green-skin pocked with a few splotches of sickly yellow, this was a troll that had seen better days. Quite overweight with a pot-belly that hung over the counter-tip, he at least still managed to maintain wiry-muscled arms and defined pectorals that spoke of great upper-body strength. Bald with the exception of thick bushy white eyebrows, yet somehow, they weren’t enough to draw the attention away from the huge nose that just seemed to hang out from the center of his face.
“Damn,” Britanny thought with a bit of awe and disgust. “The trolls back home are LUCKY they don’t share looks with the ones here.” Then again, considering what the werecat had learned in Oblivion about how the gaoblins had secretly replaced the originals with themselves using genetic markers, she might very well be looking at the unadulterated true appearance right now.
THAT was a depressing thought. Crescens’ people were damned lucky they didn’t catch a case of the, ‘fuglies’.
Crescens, however, was on a different train of thought. “I am literally, the hottest gaoblin bitch here!”
Smiling, she stood a bit taller, thrusting out her chest a bit more.
“I am, the Alpha Bitch of my people!”
Finally, the werecheetah spoke aloud, “Are you... Bouldarr?”
“The Bouldarr is I, yes, lady.” The troll grunted.
“Okay, listen, Bouldarr—”
The troll slammed his hands on the table, interrupting the woman. “Nay! The Bouldarr only answers to, ‘The Bouldarr’!”
Britanny, Crescenes and Ayane sweat-dropped as they heard him say that. “Who is he? A professional wrestler?” the feline dungeon keeper thought to herself.
As if to prove a point or stoke the paranoia, the troll grunted. “You smell what The Bouldarr’s cookin’? He’s giving bargains for wimpy starting keepers who likely don’t have a coin to their name. So let me know what you CAN afford, and we’ll get you cave-squirreled away with something... I think someone like you can at least afford a wooden door.”
And now the werecheetah glared. “I dropped a half million gold on the Slave Guild. And I mean literally dropped. I can handle any number you throw at me.” And if he kept it up, she’d bury his uppity ass too.
She instantly regretted telling the troll that, as he began smiling. It... it wasn’t a pretty sight.
“AH!” the man cooed as he clapped his hands together merrily. “Yer THAT Keeper! The person everyone’s talkin’ about right now...” he began rubbing his oversized mitts together. “Yes, yes... if you can afford to kill someone with tons of gold, you can afford all the BEST stuff... you want High Quality rooms yes? No need for Basic or Average quality...”
Nodding her head, the werecheetah replied. “You got it. Only the best of what you got...” she frowned as a thought occurred to her. “Speaking of which, just what IS the best you have anyway?” He spoke of quality, but not the actual goods.
“Okay, if you can afford Higher Grade stuff, I can give you a rundown of all the stuff I have in stock...” the shop owner murmured as he looked the gathered group over. “Seeing as you gots yourself a dark mistress...” he narrowed his eyes as his gaze focused on her facial scar. “And an Elite one at that, you need a Torture Chamber of High Quality. A nasty little place used to convert unsightly heroes and enemy minions to your side, as well as quash the demands of any rebelling minions of your own should they get out of line... thanks to the numerous torture devices made available with this model...” he eyed Ayane for a moment before turning his attention back to Britanny. “Gonna warn you though. This room attracts the fearsome dark mistresses like moths to a flame. In the meantime, your lady over there is gonna be using it regularly but believe me! With the grade of the one I'm selling you, you’ll be seeing more.”
Britanny twitched slightly at the ramifications of what he was telling her. “That’s... that’s just peachy.” She gulped. “So when you say torture devices...?” she left the statement hanging.
The shop owner nodded his head firmly. “All the best! Torture racks: stretching AND spinning. Wall-mounted manacles. Hot coal furnaces. Weight presses. Dunk tanks. Pendulum guillotines. Stockades. Iron maidens... and the latest craze: THE ELECTRIC CHAIR!” he chuckled as he saw the Elite dark mistress squeezing her legs together as she bounced in place. “And all fully stocked of course: whips, paddles, clothespins, riding crops, chains, pliers, branding irons, needles, gags, the works! All yours for the low-LOW price of ten-thousand gold.” He smirked. “Normally I charge fifteen-thousand but I wouldn’t want to deny such a...” he paused, searching for the right words. “Er... ‘Unique’ dark mistress.”
Ayane was drooling at the thought. “Oh my... oh my...” she spun about, grasping onto her boss by her shoulders. “Mistress, I NEED this!” Just the thought of having that kind of setup and equipment available? Why, if the werecheetah got it for her, she’d get her Mistress’ name tattooed on her ass!
“...No need to go that far...” Britanny muttered as the woman had squealed the last bit aloud.
The professional dominatrix looked at her with wide, puppy-eyes. “So... Mistress will get it for me? Reward her first proper Minion with a torture chamber of high quality so I can work my magic, torture your enemies for information, allegiance, or just plain ol’ fun and profit?”
“Er...” sighing, the werecheetah had to admit, if the woman had all this to play with, then she might stop playing with her! “Fine! We’ll go with the schematics for it. And you, The Bouldarr! I need more rooms too, so don't ring me up yet!” She narrowed her eyes. “You do have more right?” He better, after all that boasting.
“Oh, I got more, I got more...” he licked his lips, fingers entwining as he placed his clasped hands on the table before him. “If you’re going to have a Torture Room, then you need someplace to hold your clients during the interim...” he chuckled. “Yes, you need yourself a Prison! A place to store all those troublesome heroes and enemy minions after your own forces have captured them!” He paused as he considered something for a moment. “Of course, you don’t have to make them await their turn for the torture chamber. You can just leave them to die there and rot in there...” he grinned rather darkly. “Since this with be a high quality prison, it’s got a special enchantment!” he chuckled darkly. “Once a corpse has decayed enough, it will eventually rise up again as a new minion for you! The skeleton! Some heroes are worth converting, but if money or the prisoner is the problem, remember this! The skeleton is free, has no upkeep, is loyal ONLY to you, and is as strong as a goblin with only half the smell! I tell you, the high quality prison is a STEAL for only twenty-thousand gold!”
The feline woman gawked. “That’s twice as much as the torture chamber!”
“Yes,” Bouldarr agreed. “But the high quality prisons cannot be escaped from and can MAKE minions for you without any effort on your part! Minions that, like I said, you don’t have to pay! Very versatile!”
Slowly, Cheetah carefully rubbed her forehead to prevent the headache she could feel coming on from her annoyance. Sheesh-and-a-half, was this troll ever getting on her nerves! “So we have the prison chamber and the torture chamber, anything else... Bouldarr?”
“The Bouldarr!” The troll huffed in annoyance. “But for what else we got...” he chuckled again, his throat releasing a noise that sounded like a cross between a toad croaking and a lion roaring. “The Bouldarr thinks that you’ll be...” he grinned at her, “Quite pleased.”
The woman twitched, rather put off by that show of machoism... did he really think himself a macho man? There was no beef jerky to be had! And those teeth... oh dear God, those teeth! Why wouldn’t he stop smiling!? “How about places to sleep and rest?” the werecheetah queried. “The only Lair I have is the one that’s part of my inner-sanctum. I can make small basic ones for my people with the knowledge already in my Dungeon Heart but I’d prefer to give my... ‘employees’...” she said the term after a moment of thought. “Something better. They deserve more than a straw mattress and a tiny wooden cabinet.”
Nodding his head, the troll replied, “Right, right! And fortunately for you, we got high quality lairs too! The high quality ones are VERY special as they double as a hospital! Your minions can go to heal after being injured or getting exhausted from a hard day’s work. While sleeping, your minions will not only steadily heal but there is an, ‘attitude adjustment’ enchantment that calms their mood. It also has a siren’s call effect so that, upon their arrival to a dungeon, the creatures will have the urge to make a beeline for the closest unclaimed lair to establish their home... but be warned! If they cannot access a lair, then they will become quite irritable.”
A small smile began to spread across the werecheetah’s face as she considered what he’d told her. “Oh really? An attitude adjustment enchantment you say?” she cooed.
Nodding his head firmly, The Bouldarr replied, “YEP! Helps enhance and strengthen the bond a keeper has with their minions, aids in maintaining loyalty you see. Minions can’t revolt if they ain’t angry. Has an effect on all of ‘em!”
Britanny grinned wider.
“...Except Horned Reapers... those things are immune to it.” He then laughed. “But then, that shouldn’t be a problem! There hasn’t been a Horned Reaper around in half a millennia!”
Britanny frowned. Oh, how she FROWNED...
“At only ten-thousand gold, it’s as if I’m giving it away!” the troll began to bellow with laughter. He took a moment to calm himself before continued. “So!” The Bouldarr leaned forward. “Should I ring ya up or do ya need some more?”
Although she was annoyed that she wouldn’t have an easy way to keep Horny in line, the spotted feline woman did have to consider that she had other needs too. “Any amenities?” the werecat finally asked. “We’re gonna need entertainment.”
The muscled male underworlder grinned again. “OH YES!” the troll cooed. “There are two major ones you need; very popular. The Casino and the Training Room!”
That perked the woman up a bit. “Okay, attention is had. What’s this about a casino?”
“Yes, yes!” The green-skinned store-owner chirruped. “The casino is a most useful room! It’s a place where minions can go to unwind after a harsh day, where they can drink ale until they collapse and waste their gold on roulette and cards. You can change the payout to either raise gold you lost through paydays or to increase your minions’ loyalty. You see, when a creature hits a jackpot, it’s your treasury that pays out the gold. If you can afford it, it’s a sneaky way to maintain their happiness. It’s the golden rule after all: whoever has the gold, makes the rules. Again, only ten-thousand gold for the schematics! And with it being one of high quality, I guarantee that your casino is gonna be swank~KEE!”
The werecheetah considered that. That was something for her to look into. Decorations and more types of gambling activities–maybe she could make a slot machine! “And... the training room?”
“Right, the training room,” the troll licked his lips. “That’s a place where your warriors work to increase their skill and strength. When a minion spends time training in there, they grow in power. They go around hitting pillars or the spinning training posts. As this is the high quality version, there’s even a sparring area so your minions can SAFELY fight with each other: a dark gods-send considering a lot of them will fight one other anyway and this saves you on downtime as they won’t be able to seriously injure each other! However, keep in mind that this isn’t just about exercise! Time spent in there is made truly effective because it’s tied into the Dungeon Heart. That means when your people train, the room requires a lot of gold to activate so make sure you have enough.” He smirked. “And speaking of gold...”
The wereheetah dungeon keeper sighed. “Ten-thousand?”
“YOU GOTS IT!”
“Imp...” the mega-imp growled in annoyance as it walked about the throne room of its creator’s lair. It was gently pushing aside decorative armors and lifting furniture but wasn’t having much luck. Having finished widening the tunnel, the Dungeon Heart-created homunculus had returned to retrieve the clothing store and proprietor. The mass of stone and earth that made up The Tailor’s establishment was there, to be sure... but the dark elf itself was missing.
Snorting, the tunneling minion placed the couch down. Looking left, then right, the hulking mass of grayish-green muscle realizing that it had searched everywhere it could within the throne room. Turning about, the creature started walking towards the staircase, intent on searching Keeper Cheetah’s personal lair for the missing sylvan there.
However, it was stopped halfway up the stairs by the cry of “Schnapple!”
“Imp?” the brutish mega-imp turned about, its gaze settling on the much smaller form of its fellow dungeon construct. “Imp, Imp, I~iiimp?” it questioned of its brethren.
Nodding its head, the much smaller imp was motioning back to the expanded tunnel with its pickaxe, telling its ‘little brother’ about the new entrance that had opened up, leading into a new chamber they’d yet to claim. “Schnapple! Schnapple!”
The creature’s black eyed widening in horror, the mega-imp inhaled deeply. “IMP!?” it shouted as it began rushing back down the stairs. If the dark elf had managed to escape through the construction it had worked on, the Keeper was going to be so angry with it! It had to check this security breech and hope to the dark gods that the sylvan prick had neither discovered it or was at least on the other side.
Following the smaller imp as it lead the way. The green behemoth’s frown deepened as this entrance wasn’t far from the inner sanctum; this was a huge threat to the lair’s security! “IMP!” It shouted as stuck its head and shoulders in through the opening, looking about. It was an area of stone, that much was certain, but from where it was, the Mega-Imp could see it was at least an eighteen foot drop into a small lake below, the water being fed via an underground river that travelled quite a ways.
“Schnapple!” the smaller imp squealed as it stood between its bigger brother’s legs. Grasping on the left pant leg and tugging, the miniscule minion started shouting in alarm, “Schnapple! Schnapple!! Schnapple!!!”
Stepping back for a moment so it could look down at the tinier tunneler, the much larger creature then raised its bald head once more to check where the little guy was pointing. An eyebrow rose as it could see spiders coming from further down the tunnel, staying above the waterline of the river. That... that was a lot of spiders...
Before the muscle minion could comprehend the meaning of all this, it was then just as suddenly, a face was in front of the Mega-Imp’s, the creature obviously hanging from the ceiling of the cavern as it was looking at him upside down. An expanse of purple hair hung from a head with smooth skin, delicate features, piercing eyes of red and black, and a smile that was a fang-filled maw. A smile that got even wider as she greeted, “Hello.”
The Mega-Imp roared as its face was blinded by a sudden glut of spider-web from the woman’s mouth.
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