The Gunner's Broom hummed beneath Lucille as the lovely witch rode, side-saddle, her long, coltish legs swaying ever-so-slightly in the air, heedless of the low roar of the engines; Streamers of superheated air twisted about her, a shimmering shield that held the sand and heat at bay- Mostly.<br/><br/>"<em>That's</em>the place~?" Lucille pondered aloud, her full lips curling into a sultry pout as she peered down; It certainly didn't *look* like much, after all...Another dry, sandy place in a whole *desert* full of them! The tame winds ruffled the brief hem of her pleated skirt- Giving a tempting flash of lacy white panties- as she guided the broom in, her fingers drumming idly on the length...<br/><br/>It was embarassing, but she couldn't find the entrance to the dungeon! There was sand- Only sand, an unbroken wall of it, exactly where the disc had said it *should* be...Either Grandma was wrong, or the desert had *shifted* since the last time...Her elegant features wrinkled at the smell of industry, of mining, from far, far above- But with a little sigh, a small shrug, she guided it anyway, in a slow, spiralling descent, looking for somewhere to set down- It seemed she'd have to ask some *questions* if she wanted to get anywhere...<br/><br/>-And besides, Lucille *could* use a drink...