Delve

Prancy took another sip of the salty-sweet icy slush of something the green-skinned hostess had called a Margarita.

 

“Well,” he sighed, “that was quite an adventure, wouldn’t you say?”

 

Phawkes only snorted, the faintest of smiles playing across his lips.

 

“Do you suppose they’ll be all right?” Prancy worried aloud.

 

“I suppose they’ll be themselves,” Phawkes scoffed, “as for all right, that’s anyone’s guess.”

 

“Quite so,” Prancy agreed.

 

Phawkes settled back into his chair, his eye taking on that distant look that came after returning from a successful hunt, as he replayed the tale in his mind. He frowned a moment later at the rustle of a piece of paper that Prancy had just pulled from his pocket.

 

“What’s that you’ve got there?” he asked.

 

“Oh, this?” Prancy mumbled as he squinted down at the sheet of cream-colored foolscap in his hands, “A list of questions sent me by the readers.”

 

“Did you lose your spectacles again, Prancy?” Phawkes sighed.

 

“No!” Prancy protested, “I… I simply prefer not to wear them.”

 

“Why did you purchase them if you don’t intend to wear the bloody things?” Phawkes demanded.

 

Prancy looked stung.

 

“They… well, they make me look old,” Prancy said.

 

Phawkes guffawed, rolling his eye.

 

Prancy wrinkled his pink nose in irritation.

 

“They don’t make you look old,” Phawkes sighed, “in fact, I believe they make you look rather… distinguished.”

 

“Truly?” Prancy beamed.

 

“Of course,” Phawked insisted, “now put the damned things on and be done with it!”

 

Prancy smiled again as fished the wire-framed spectacles from the pocket of his jacket. A moment later, they were on and the list of question’s swam into focus.

 

“Here they are,” he said, “in no particular order, and I shall endeavor to answer them each to the best of my ability!”

 

Q: What’s going on with the blade girls?

A: Ah yes, the trio of blade spirits, set lose upon the realm in the bodies of precocious children by a former Graysider, turned goddess of the Moon Elves. At present, they are making the lives of the Sisters of Saint Morgana absolutely miserable. The nuns are questioning what transgression they might have committed to have been so punished by their dark goddess. While the girls lack any real memories of their previous lives, they do share a common belief that they are destined for some greater purpose than simply scrubbing floors and washing the linens. I imagine they are even now plotting a daring escape.

 

Q: Was the DM Brian?

A: Ah, no, I could see where there might have been some confusion there, as the first time we saw Brian in the comic, he was wearing a silly hat with horns on it similar to the horns affixed to our beloved Dracomage’s head.

 

“Beloved?” Phawkes chuckled.

“Please don’t interrupt, dear,” Prancy said.

Phawkes nodded a silent apology and Prancy continued:

 

In short, Brian and the Dracomage were kindred spirits, two Graysiders fated to be masters of the forbiddenest of magics, and it was simply time for the previous Dracomage to pass the torch, as it were. In the end, Brian entered the much more colorful fantasy world and took on the responsibility of wearing the somewhat shape-shifting gloves of dragon magic, and the old DM was then set free to move on to… something else.

 

Q: Why don’t the anthropomorphic inhabitants of the Delve world have areola?

A: Well, in the case of the furry sorts like Miko and Betrys, they do have areola, they are simply concealed beneath a thin layer of downy fur. As for Teal, she is made of slime, as one reader noted, so there is no real color difference to be seen. Regarding the naga, however, the answer is a bit more… ambiguous. As naga hatch from eggs, laid by parents whom couldn’t care any less about their offsprings’ survival, lactation was never a consideration. Why then, do snake women have breasts if their function remains a mystery? Perhaps, it is simply because breasts are quite lovely to look at.

 

Phawkes mumbled something inaudible into his drink.

 

Q: do the valryn really want to go back into the Abyss?

A: Oh, yes! Their people were, in fact, created to war against the Devourer, and now that he has been truly defeated on his true home plane, so to speak, they must inform their people and bring the evidence which Sephni gave them as proof. As to where they go from here… well, Thessali does have her cadre of orcish warriors in training, and it will be good for them to spend a little time in hell. I’m certain they’ll all have a lovely time.

 

Q: What happened to Imugi? How’d she change back to looking human again?

A: Imugi is a Graysider who became aware of her situation far more quickly than Jen ever did. As a human hailing from a much more recent time period, perhaps her exposure to Isekai stories clued her in. Rather than embrace the fusion of reality and fantasy as Jen eventually did, Imugi chose to overwhelm her fantasy persona with her, as they say, Tryhard gamer mentality, resulting in the black-eyed, gray-hued overpowered protagonist who broke the very rules of the game at the expense of the people whom she saw as soulless NPCs all around her. When she was finally convinced to perform a powerful selfless act to save the dying Sephni, her only real friend in this new world, Imugi felt emotions which she had not experienced in a very long time, and her obsession with self-annihilation seemed suddenly not as important as it once had. Where she goes from here, we may never learn, but one hopes she can find some measure of peace.

 

Q: What is the connection between Bree and her other counterpart, Jennifer Balfour? Was Jen reincarnated as Bree after her death or are they two people merged into one? Can they split apart again, and can the Graysiders go back to their own world, perhaps at the moment they left? Could Brian and Imugi wind up together back in the Grayside, if they chose?

A: A very good line of questions here. I suppose it is still a bit hazy where the Graysiders find their colorful counterparts. I’d prefer to believe that Bree and Jen were two separate people, always bound by some mystical connection, eventually consummated in a final union as they became one. I rather think it’s a bit of a one-way process, though, perhaps there could be a kind of a divorce proceeding further down the line, should they so desire. As for returning to the Grayside, as Morgana so aptly put it, “It would be like trying to shove an oak tree back into an acorn,” but then again, I suppose anything is possible.

 

Q: Will we get to see the answer to Orc whips vs Elf whips question?

A: I’m not entirely certain that I understand the question, but I’ll do my best to answer it. Orc whips are usually longish affairs, tanned from the hides of wild beasts such as boars and deathworms. A skilled orc torturer can keep his victim conscious for hours, dancing on the edge between agony and oblivion. As for elves, that primarily depends on which elves to which you refer. Shadow Elf whipmistresses exceed all other mortals in the art, whipping their subjects with enchanted cords of spidersilk into an erotically charged state of pleasure-pain that may last days at a time. Aquatic elves have no use for such devices with such an array of organic substitutes on hand. Wood Elves are a bit more inclined toward such proclivities, yet are almost absurdly naïve in their approach, at most dealing a few half-hearted strokes of the whip before the whole thing devolves into rather sloppy love-play. High Elves prefer to believe themselves masters of the finer arts of bondage and torture, but their whips are mostly ridiculous affairs of braided tassels and fluffy pom-poms. As for Moon Elves, well, I suppose they would simply adjust their spectacles and give you a derisive scowl were one to be bold enough to suggest that they would dabble in such meaningless diversions.

 

“Is that all?” Phawkes asked, seeing Prancy set the paper aside and reach for his drink.

 

“Yes, quite so,” Prancy said, taking a sip.

 

“And what happens now?” Phawkes asked.

 

Prancy wrinkled his nose again and thought for a moment before answering.

 

“I suppose we wait and see.”