4

At least it's done now. Every oven is different, of course, but it'll be about ten minutes before this one is warm enough for the cupcakes to go in, and then you've probably got another fifteen to twenty minutes of actual baking time after you put them in.

You only have 114 minutes left in the round.

"With me?" The queen raises one exquisite eyebrow. "Whatever it is, I hope it's not about the contract, because I've told you already that's not getting canceled."

"I haven't given up on that," you tell her. "But I was more hoping to get to know you a little better. You know, as a person. Why come to Godstone all of a sudden?"

She shrugs. "Well, being the monster at the end of the Searing Sands Desert isn't all it's cut out to be, you know. Perhaps I just missed the city. No one ever visits unless they're some bloodthirsty adventurer or council goon. Perhaps I just wanted to turn over a new leaf, start a new chapter in my life."

She leans forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Between you and me, this place has way more dead things to play with, too. Anyway, I'm sure that's not what's really on your mind. Before you get to it, though, remember that some things aren't entirely safe to talk about here, if you know what I mean." She cuts a look towards the judges' table, where Tira Misu is smiling in your direction.

That has to be a coincidence. Right? Still, you find yourself choosing your next words wisely.

The queen undying, terrorizer of the Twelve Mostly Civilized Realms, Necromancer Supreme, leans forward, eyes twinkling like a baby who's just tasted candy for the first time in their life. "Are you kidding?" she practically squeals. "I live to talk necromancy!"

She snaps her fingers, and a chalkboard made of bone appears, prefilled with arcane symbols. She extracts a small bone from within her clothing and pulls on it until it extends to a couple of feet long, then raps the end of it on the formulas. "Now, if you look here, you'll see that the main variable in necromantic field equations is whether the localized conditions of the spiritual plane match up with the corporeal manifold."

"Uh…"

"I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, 'But what about the interaction between the photonic streams and the nebulizing effects of the astral sphere's widdershins directional flow?'"

That was, in fact, not even close to what you were thinking, but the queen undying doesn't seem to notice that she lost you as soon as she said the word "variable." She talks for about another ten minutes in increasingly arcane terms, and while you're not sure you understand more than five percent of it, even that five percent gives you a couple of insights into things. You feel your knowledge of necromancy expanding, at least a little, as a result.

"Now, perhaps I might ask you a couple of questions! How are you finding your necromantic link?"

"I see." She sounds like Bouma when they interviewed you. You can't see her writing anything down in a notebook, but you're not sure whether that's more or less worrying.

"And the Bake-Off," she continues, "is it what you expected? Do you feel like you're struggling or knocking it out of the park? I'm curious what your impressions are."

The oven lets out a cheery ding, and the queen claps her hands together. "Oh, look at that! It's time to put the cakes in. Let's get on with things, then," she says. "We can talk more another time."

The oven is finally ready for your delicious creations. At least, you hope they'll be delicious.

You slide the tray of cupcake batter into the preheated oven. Now, what the heck are you supposed to do while that's going on?

You only have 104 minutes left in the round.

Sure," the queen says. "You want them crispy, burnt, raw, or soggy? Or all four at once? I usually charge extra for that, but for you I'll make an exception."

This time she laughs. "Just screwing with you. The only thing I'm better at than raising the dead is baking cupcakes. Check back in thirty minutes, and they'll be ready for whatever you need. As perfect and delicious as an ossuary, cross my heart."

That's not the most reassuring simile, but you guess it's too late now for second thoughts.

"Thanks," you say. "I'mma go screw with people."

Overbaking, underbaking, catastrophic explosions…There are so many fun things that you can do while people are baking.

Er, that is, there are so many "accidents" that can "happen" while people are baking.

The real question is, who needs to be taken down a notch?

At first glance, Argyle's station looks deserted. You approach quickly, eager to destroy his chances before he returns. But the instant you set foot in his kitchen, a sepulchral voice intones, "Doooom."

You nearly jump out of your skin. Turns out, the chefromancer supreme is sitting in front of his oven, which glows with arcane energies. You never knew arcane energies smelled so delicious!

"Fiery doom," he says, meeting your eyes. "Ash and swirling chaos."

"Yes," you agree. "Hopefully at least one of those things."

But how?

You allow your heartbeat to slow, granting your growing necromantic abilities full control of your body. With a strong breath out, you pour them into the oven dial, willing it to the highest possible temperature.

"Doom," Argyle mutters, and you feel rather than hear the dial creak and snap under the pressure of your contest.

At last, though, you are victorious, the strength of your magic defeating Argyle's so thoroughly that the dial separates from the oven with a sad ping and flies across the stage with so much force it embeds itself in the arena walls.

"Doom," Argyle says, pointing to the black smoke pouring from his oven.

"Fiery doom," you counter, and then leave him there with his burning baked goods.

You only have 74 minutes left in the round.

The cupcakes are out of the oven and cooling, but chupacake-cabras are just ordinary little cakes without frosting. It's up to you to whip up a batch.

You can't make the frosting without the key ingredient. It's now or never to procure some sweat from your chupacabra.

You've never worked with chupacabra before, but you know without doubt this is going to be the most heinous part of the round. It's these kinds of extremes that separate the Great Godstone Bake-Off from some run-of-the-mill bake sale.

Your chupacabra doesn't look like it's ready to sweat at all. But you're committed now!

You approach your chupacabra. Man, they sure named this thing appropriately. How are you going to go about getting its sweat?

Your options are encouragement (which seems unlikely), breadcraft (you're pretty sure you can handle that), sweetness (totally you!), or being honest (simple enough). What are you gonna do?