Morgana’s come-uppance

Hippolyta and Alcippe had been quietly biding their time in the space between the worlds, trying to teach Hippolyta’s sidekick Chalan to play mumbletey-peg, when suddenly a very battered Morgana blinked into existence and collapsed beside the camp fire.

“By Hefaetrus, Morgana, you look like hell. And where’s Wulfstan?”

“Well, it's nice to see you too, Hippolyta. I've allowed Wulfstan a little dirt-nap. And I look like hell because that’s where I’ve been. Dying, mostly. Fighting its incarnation of Duriel, to be more precise.”

Alcippe’s jaw dropped to see Morgana so humbled, but Hippolyta seemed unruffled. “Ah. Get her a drink, will you, Chalan? No, not cocoa, you fathead, whisky.”

Morgana drained the tumbler in one gulp and thrust it back into Chalan's hand without looking up. The mercenary glanced at Hippolyta, who sighed and motioned that he should just bring the decanter over.

Morgana shakily poured herself a second, very generous helping of Hippolyta’s best single malt and continued. “Well, I nailed the bugger in the end. Kept firewalls lit under his slimy arse and blasted him to bits with lightning and thunderstorm. But I was reduced to buying reds in wholesale quantities from Lysander before it was over. That old geezer loves me now. S’funny, it’s like no-one’s spoken to him in years.”

“That’s because no-one has,” muttered Shikha.

Morgana ignored her and poured herself a third whisky. “You know, sometimes I envy you two your life leeching abilities. Thing is, gotta get toe-to-toe with that slug. There’s nowhere to run. At one point I was seriously considering tooling up with some serious life steal gear and using melee attacks in between my main spells. Maybe a good, fast knife.”

Alcippe had to remind herself that before her magical skills had blossomed, Morgana had been no slouch with a quarterstaff. “Those are the breaks, Morgana,” she said quietly. “We each have our strengths. You can take down lightning enchanted bosses that would have me running for miles, while for me Hell Duriel is no trouble at all.”

Morgana scowled. “If you have some life steal and can afford to tank-and-glug, then yes, it’s just a matter of time and having enough potions before you make yourself a nice big slug sushi. Sure gotta to be an easier recipe than my flash-fried slug flambª.”

Alcippe recalled when she and Shikha had dealt with Hell Duriel. Her experience had certainly been very different from Morgana’s.

“Ah, Morgana?” Looking at her friend, Hippolyta gestured at her own brow.

“You expect me to care about my hair at a time like this?”

“No, but I think a chunk of your new recipe got stuck in your circlet.”

“So it did. Thanks. Well, that last thunderbolt was rather a doozie. Slug everywhere.” Morgana examined the rather crispy giblet. “Hmm, I wonder if Alkor can make a potion out of this.”

“Girl, you are sick.”

Morgana broke into a grin and threw the giblet at Hippolyta, who caught it expertly and immediately tried to stuff it down the back of Morgana’s collar. As the two dissolved into laughter, Alcippe and Shikha glanced at each other and smiled.

“One for your diary I think, Shikha. The mighty Morgana humbled.”

“And now behold the mighty Morgana rubbing Duriel’s pancreas into the noble Hippolyta’s hair.”

Shikha hesitated before continuing. “You know, Alcippe, I’m glad that Morgana has you and Hippolyta as friends. She’s had a hard upbringing and I wouldn’t want her to be lonely.”

“Oh, I don’t think there’s any danger of that, Shika.”

Shikha looked blank.

“C’mon, rogue,” said Alcippe abruptly. “I’m sick of those damned jungles: let’s find the Kurast waypoint so we can have done with them forever.”