As Ling approaches the metal windmill, the ground under it groans and shifts. A chunk of land rises up, revealing a crude staircase.
"If anyone is still alive up there," demands a young woman's voice from the dark, climbing upward, "Identify yourself."
"A passing wizard," says Ling, "Who's asking?"
"I am the Gr- hold on, give me a second," says the voice, hurrying up the stairs. As she reaches the surface, she announces, "I am the Great Witch Zingiber, Herald of Calamity."
Zingiber is a tan elven woman, barely a few centuries old, with fluffy red hair. She wears an extremely dark red cloak. Her ruby earrings are so large that the bend her long pointy ears (as they are hooked into the tips). She posed dramatically when she emerged and sneaks a look with one eye to see what reaction she garnered.
"By the Gods," says Zingiber, dropping the pose into one of exaggerated shock, "You're Dr. Ling, creator of Tendon Tearer! It's such an honour!"
L: It was a nice feeling being identified for magic for once. Wish it had been my food magic...
"Ripper, my rep precedes," says Ling, "Sorry 'bout ya're spell minefield, but I couldn't give ya a bell."
"Don't worry about that," says Zingiber. She turn around and waves for Ling to follow, "Come in, please." She giddily kicks about before squealing and charging in.
Into the darkness, Ling descends. Her orb's shine guides her until a distant glimmer sparks into view. This staircase must reach into the Underdank. If that's the case, then the sheriff was half-right.
The room at the bottom is bare, lit by the single smokeless torch hanging on the wall. A large metal door stands in the far wall inscribed with runes.
"Apple crumble and filch," says Zingiber to which the door opens. "Let me show you around."
The cavern was carved in an uneven yet cubic way, a chaotic and artificial mess. The dark stone lit by yet more smokeless torches and splattered with dried blood. An arrangement of mini mesas form a set of table and chairs with small cushions set upon them.
L: The room was a tripping hazard deathtrap. One wrong step and there's a pointy corner in your face.
"This is our main room- oh, I NEED to introduce you to the rest of the coven!" Zingiber turns down a corridor and yells, "Gudrun! You'll never guess who's here!"
"This better be good, or they better be dead," grumbles a distinctly dwarven voice from down the way.
Stepping into the room in an extremely dark green variant of Zingiber's witchy robe is a brooding pale middle-aged dwarven woman. Her hair, beard, and overdone eye shadow are as black as the stairwell Ling just crawled down. Both her long hair and beard run through simple sapphire bands.
"Why'd ya let a stranger into our lair?" asks Gudrun, "What part of secret is escaping yer erratic brain?"
"But this is Dr. Ling," whines Zingiber, "The genius that created all those body horror spells I've been practicing. She's my inspiration."
"So, ya're the lovely partner to this little psycho?" asks Ling, "Where's the third?"
L: Not a fan of being labeled a body horror wizard.
J: Then stop making new body horror spells.
L: Those are my "stop trying to kill me" spells; ya have to keep making new ones or your enemies will learn how to counter ya. Anyhow, I knew I had to distract these two to search the place.
"Elsewhere," says Gudrun, "How'd ya guess?"
"All covens have at least three witches," says Ling, "But I guess I can be your third 'til morning." Ling licks her eyeballs.
Zingiber squeals again, but Gudrun seems hesitant.
"One of my idols wants my body," she says to no one specifically. She swiftly spots Gudrun's face and falls to her knees before her. "Please, please, please, please-please, pleeeeeeeeease. We HAVE to."
Gudrun shakes her head, "We shouldn't. Not without her."
"Well, if she wants to be an equal part of this relationship then maybe she should be living with us instead of leaving us alone."
"Fair," says Gudrun, "Alright, lizard, hope ya're better than my ex-hub."
"I'll get the honey and the chaaaains!" says Zingiber darting off.
"Wait," says Ling, casting a spell on the elf. The confirmation sign appears over her head. "Carry on." She turns to the dwarf, "So, ya and this one, huh?"
"Ma always said not to stick yer tongue in crazy," says Gudrun, "But what Ma don't know won't kill her."
"Strewth."