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Story Hour
The Dark Squad in the Secrets of Saltmarsh #136 Into the Mere of the Dead Men.
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<blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 8147196" data-attributes="member: 16069"><p style="text-align: center"><strong>Dark Squad in Meet the Uthgardt</strong></p><p></p><p><strong>Session #027b Ups & Downs.</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>Dark Squad (in alphabetical order, no egos here).</strong></p><p><strong><s>Buggles (played by Stu) Male Wood Elf Fighter Lvl 2/Rogue Lvl 3</s> RIP</strong></p><p><strong><s>New Tricks (played by Bear) Male Tabaxi Warlock Lvl 5</s> RIP</strong></p><p><strong><s>Ramshambo (played by Kev) Male Half-Elf Rogue Lvl 5</s> RIP</strong></p><p><strong><s>Vincenzo (played by Haggis) Male Shifter (Wildhunt) Druid Lvl 5</s> RIP</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>NPCs</strong></p><p><strong><s>Daktari Male Human Uthgardt Sky Pony Barbarian Lvl 5</s> RIP</strong></p><p><strong><s>Garumn Male Mountain Dwarf Paladin of Moradin Lvl 5 </s>RIP</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>Buggles’ undead servitor</strong></p><p><strong>Gwen Female Duergar Skeleton, in full-face helm and armour </strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>NPC hangers-on, rescued prisoners of the Orcs</strong></p><p><strong>Geradil the “Inconceivable”, aging trapper (Male Human)</strong></p><p><strong>“Screaming” Courana, lady’s maid (Female Human)</strong></p><p><strong>Spandwick the Magic Gnome, ex-stage mesmerist (Male Gnome)</strong></p><p><strong>Bel, the beautiful and lovely wife of Spandwick (Female Gnome)</strong></p><p></p><p>Then, suddenly- a trace of light- lightning but without the storm- no noise- not even the sound of the constant rain, just the white thunder light etched on cloud- black on black clouds, and all the shades between.</p><p></p><p>And the wind.</p><p></p><p>The wind howling without sound- holding the five members of the Dark Squad aloft.</p><p></p><p>They’re somewhere, nowhere, and…</p><p></p><p>WTF?</p><p></p><p>The five adventurers are at altitude held within the air, surrounded by dark clouds- the see-scape traced by constant forks of silent lightning. It's raining, but here's the thing- they don't seem to be getting wet. They can move, but only slowly- and at great effort- swimming, tumbling against the gusty torrents. They’re not falling- they’re not flying, they’re… they’re… they’re, even I’m struggling to tell you what’s going on here.</p><p></p><p>They’re being held.</p><p></p><p>They’re waiting.</p><p></p><p>They’re in-between.</p><p></p><p>They can shout to each other, which they do- of course, “Where are we?” is a favourite.</p><p></p><p>But then, suddenly, and with giggly jumps- Daktari floats upwards, and out of sight, shouting and hollering in his odd cod-Russian as he ascends.</p><p></p><p>Nice choice of word there, did you notice it, I wrote- ‘ascends’.</p><p></p><p>“I am floating upawayz, it feelz niice! Woooaa!!” The Uthgardt barbarian hollers as he disappears from view.</p><p></p><p>Nothing for a while, then…</p><p></p><p>The sound of drumming.</p><p></p><p>The drumming becomes the tattoo of horses hooves.</p><p></p><p>But what a ride- the horse is racing, tearing along- a thundering headlong dash, it sounds joyous.</p><p></p><p>And gradually, above the sound of the horse’s thunder, can be heard the sounds of Daktari- exulting and proclaiming his joy… louder, then louder still. Daktari’s voice drowning out the drum’s salvo.</p><p></p><p>“Faster my glorious stallion! Faster my beauty… my love!”</p><p></p><p>And it would be a shame for the players not to see what I see, the same for you guys reading this, so here it is…</p><p></p><p>[ATTACH=full]130028[/ATTACH]</p><p><strong>Daktari at full throttle- is this what love feels like? While the other members of the Dark Squad float and wait within the silent storm. </strong></p><p></p><p>That’s Daktari, the proud Uthgardt Sky Pony barbarian- he’s doing what he has been bred to do, clamped tight between his legs is his beautiful mount, the pair racing the wind through the steppes just for the joy of it.</p><p></p><p>Is this what love feels like?</p><p></p><p>It is for Daktari.</p><p></p><p>Love is a headlong plunging dash on the back of Vincen D. Horse.</p><p></p><p>“I love you, my beautiful Vincenzo horse!” Try shouting it in cod-Russian, I did- several times, and it worked for me.</p><p></p><p>Some others also found it amusing.</p><p></p><p>But then we’re back to the soundless storm and the shadow- and now there are just four members of the Dark Squad hanging in the air.</p><p></p><p>Waiting.</p><p></p><p>“What happened to Daktari?” Buggles shouts but the wood elf’s question is mostly lost to the wind.</p><p></p><p>Who’s next to depart?</p><p></p><p>That’d be Vinnie, the druid is suddenly lighter than air- giggly, he too ascends. Waving frantically at his friends as he goes.</p><p></p><p>“Zee Yew!”</p><p></p><p>SPLA-DOOOOOSH!</p><p></p><p>The druid falls into water, warm- soapy water, a hot tub; and he’s feeling particularly mellow- surrounding him are the beautiful smiling faces of the three maidens of the wash- Keke, Peke & Cheeky.</p><p></p><p>[ATTACH=full]130029[/ATTACH]</p><p><strong>"A'right." Say hello to Vinnie-san.</strong></p><p></p><p>“Arise Vinnie-san, out of the tub, chop-chop- Sheldon wishes to speak with you.” Cheeky coquettishly states, and then giggles some more.</p><p></p><p>“A’right.” The druid slurs and sploshes out of the tub, because… because… well, why not.</p><p></p><p>Vinnie, alas, is sans clothes- but the ladies of the wash don’t mind- and so Vinnie don’t mind neither, he’s a man in tune with nature.</p><p></p><p>“Free-ballin’, yeah.” He gurns and then plods through a lotus flower curtain and outside, to beauty- more beauty…</p><p></p><p>A decorated and ordered garden beyond the bathhouse, and the three maidens of the wash are keen to lead the druid by the hand, and up the garden path.</p><p></p><p>“Sheldon is waiting, Vinnie-san.” Cheeky calls, a little way ahead.</p><p></p><p>“Comin’” the laid back druid smiles and shambles on.</p><p></p><p>To a softly-bubbling naturally heated pool situated before a golden halo of light- the dazzle and the blind is suddenly shadowed as Sheldon pokes his head through the ringed-portal, and into Vinnie’s reality.</p><p></p><p>“MMMMmmmm. Little Vinnie.” Sheldon chews on the words and then lets them out real slow.</p><p></p><p>Sheldon, or else all that can be seen of him- his head and neck, seems to be a member of the genus chelonia, some sort of turtle.</p><p></p><p>Oh, but Sheldon’s head is about thirty to forty feet long.</p><p></p><p>So… he’s a big turtle.</p><p></p><p>[ATTACH=full]130030[/ATTACH]</p><p><strong>MMMmmmm Sheldon.</strong></p><p></p><p>“Little Vinnie. MMMmmmm.” Sheldon announces again, savouring the morsel.</p><p></p><p>Vinnie grins up at Sheldon.</p><p></p><p>“You have come a long way, and yet you have much further to go- to your end. Your end, little Vinnie is however in sight- on a far shore, under a burning sun- you will suffer before the silence.”</p><p></p><p>“Stand in the surf- call my name, when you need me most. I will come to you and bring you respite, recovery and restoration. Know this though little Vinnie, you can call upon me just once. Just- once.”</p><p></p><p>Vinnie grins some more, and then finally- full beam, offers a double thumps up to the massive turtle.</p><p></p><p>“MMMmmm. Little Vinnie” Sheldon finishes and then nods forward its wrinkled neck, opens its mouth wide agape, and with its eight foot long tongue, licks the druid- like a popsicle.</p><p></p><p>“Mmmmm.” Vinnie adds.</p><p></p><p>But suddenly we’re back in the clouds and the miming lightning- and there are now just three members of the Dark Squad left hanging around.</p><p></p><p>Waiting on… their ascent?</p><p></p><p>Ramshambow, Newt and… aaarrrggghhhhh!</p><p></p><p>Buggles falls out of sight rapidly, flailing furiously as he goes- and boy does he go, snatched from vision in under a second.</p><p></p><p>Newt, because he’s Newt, begins raging- “Belphagor is my Lord! He protects me-aaarrrrgggghhhhh!”</p><p></p><p>Catkins, like Buggles, is quickly gone from view.</p><p></p><p>Ram manoeuvres himself, as best he can- subject to the wind’s howl, assuming the position of a man at ease with the world- as if reclined on a chaise longue in one of the better salons. It doesn’t make him scream any less as he too, the moment after he gets settled, falls rapidly down- down- down and out of sight.</p><p></p><p>The three adventurers experience the same journey, and yet they’re not together… not yet.</p><p></p><p>It went a little like this…</p><p></p><p>Darkness, heaviness- you cannot move, your arms, your legs, your… nothing moves. You are object.</p><p></p><p>You cannot speak because you cannot move.</p><p></p><p>Not the diaphragm, not the epiglottis, not a breath.</p><p></p><p>There’s water all around you- lapping.</p><p></p><p>You can hear!</p><p></p><p>You are on a boat.</p><p></p><p>You are lying on a boat.</p><p></p><p>You cannot see- there is something on your eyes. Two somethings- one on each eye.</p><p></p><p>The two somethings are circular, and cold.</p><p></p><p>BUMP!</p><p></p><p>The boat just hit something, else BUMPED against something.</p><p></p><p>The smell of animal.</p><p></p><p>You can smell!</p><p></p><p>The smell of a dog, two dogs, three dogs? A big dog? Big dogs.</p><p></p><p>Growling- low and mean.</p><p></p><p>Rough hands upon you, grabbed up- shifted around a body- hefted, manhandled. Like a sack or a dead thing.</p><p></p><p>And then… stood up.</p><p></p><p>You can stand, although not without trepidation.</p><p></p><p>Warmth, it’s hotter here.</p><p></p><p>You can feel!</p><p></p><p>The sound of scratching all around you- surrounds you- up and over you.</p><p></p><p>Like the sound of the book back in the seventh ancestor’s barrow, scratching the story of the Dark Squad in ink.</p><p></p><p>That same noise.</p><p></p><p>Then the light- light and tears, as the two somethings that were covering your eyes fall away.</p><p></p><p>The light!</p><p></p><p>You can see!</p><p></p><p>Although not much at first, seeing it seems is the slowest sense to recover its faculty.</p><p></p><p>Focus.</p><p></p><p>Focus.</p><p></p><p>A lush red deep-pile carpet, expensive. Nestled on the rug one, two, three… four, and maybe some others- coins.</p><p></p><p>Coins on the rug.</p><p></p><p>Not coins- but coin shaped, several of the dull white discs have intricate mazes etched upon them, others show blank- at least the sides showing.</p><p></p><p>Six of them, of the objects/artefacts on the rug, and then you look up and you’re not alone.</p><p></p><p>You are far from alone.</p><p></p><p>Buggles, Newt and Ramshambow stand statue- they cannot move their limbs.</p><p></p><p>To the left and right and up above, as far as can be seen, floor after floor, balcony after balcony- each level rammed with a myriad tiny devils, each of them- all of them, quill in hand making notes in hefty open ledgers before them.</p><p></p><p>The ornate chamber ends in a dock, at which is tethered a boat, a three headed bat-winged hound guards the way.</p><p></p><p>[ATTACH=full]130031[/ATTACH]</p><p><strong>This doesn't look good.</strong></p><p></p><p>“Turn around you bozzos! Ya got ‘em facing da wrong way knuckleheads!”</p><p></p><p>The voice comes from behind the three former adventurers, large invisible hands roughly spin the trio around to see…</p><p></p><p>To see…</p><p></p><p>A horned demon (or similar) sits at a desk, weighing scales to one side of the fiend, a large gavel on the other- a great open tome before the creature- quill poised at the ready.</p><p></p><p>But that’s not all.</p><p></p><p>A forty foot tall (maybe taller), six-limbed demon/devil squats over the proceedings, passively watches on, every now and then taking draws from a cigar as long as Garumn is/was tall.</p><p></p><p>[ATTACH=full]130032[/ATTACH]</p><p><strong>"Anythin' you'd like ta get off ya chest?"</strong></p><p></p><p>“That’s better… Ah, Mister, or should I say- Monsieur Buggelz, we’ve been expecting you.” The demon/devil at the desk snarks.</p><p></p><p>But now the secret’s out, so I’ll drop out of the stream of consciousness and get to the end.</p><p></p><p>The three gathered members of the Dark Squad are afforded the opportunity to have their say- a few final words, if you like. To recant or to make recriminations, if that’s your bag. To deny, again the choice is yours. Disavow, whatever. Just get it off your chest.</p><p></p><p>It goes like this-</p><p></p><p>Buggles- “I’ve not done anything bad, and besides- screw you, I wouldn’t change a thing.”</p><p></p><p>[Spoiler= X-Rated Interlude]</p><p>Buggles has been in touch, he wishes to make clear (he is insistent) that his reply to the devil/demon (Larry) at the desk was-</p><p></p><p>"Who the naughty word are you?"</p><p></p><p>Which he repeated until he was no longer able to speak. It is of course vitally important that we set the record straight about this, not least because Buggles' forthcoming autobiography, penned from a very warm place in hell, bears the reply for its title. [/spoiler]</p><p></p><p>Newt- Belphagor this… Belphagor that… it’s a bit of a rant really.</p><p></p><p>Ramshambow- “I should have rescued more people, people like me- slaves, I mean. I regret not doing that, but there’s nothing else I’m sorry about. Come on. Get it over with!”</p><p></p><p>But then…</p><p></p><p>“HEY! HEY! LARRY!”</p><p></p><p>“What?” The demon/devil at the desk shouts back.</p><p></p><p>And fluttering down from one of the high balconies comes… Jot.</p><p></p><p>Remember him, the quasit that made his appearance right at the end of the Sunless Citadel, just prior to the Dark Squad unleashing Ashardalon on the world.</p><p></p><p>So, here goes…</p><p></p><p>“Dese are dem ass-hats I wuz tellin’ yer about Larry.”</p><p></p><p>“Dese guys?” The desk demon (Larry) queries, “dese guys are jus’ piss ‘n’ vinegar, I mean- sure, dey gotz da wood elf, and he’s playin’ fer der home team. But… but… da puddy tat?”</p><p></p><p>“Dese are the guys Larry, dese are the fellers that let Ashardalon out, that’s what I’m tellin’ ya!” Jot whines.</p><p></p><p>“Sheesh, adventurers Jot man, not a thought fur anyone els.”</p><p></p><p>“Tell me abaht it Larry, eyes on da prize and…”</p><p></p><p>But Jot’s interrupted.</p><p></p><p>“HEY CHAZ, CHAZ?” The desk demon (Larry) bellows, and flails one arm- as if waving.</p><p></p><p>A cowled boatman appears at the far end of the hall, nods it’s head to briefly reveal a leering skull.</p><p></p><p>“Anuver muck* up at head office, take dese fellers back.”</p><p></p><p>Rough hands grab up the three adventurers, and the procession shifts into reverse gear.</p><p></p><p>Then.</p><p></p><p>Three.</p><p></p><p>Two.</p><p></p><p>One.</p><p></p><p>And the Dark Squad are back in the room.</p><p></p><p>The room in question being a draughty yurt owned by Old Mare.</p><p></p><p>[ATTACH=full]130033[/ATTACH]</p><p><strong>"Inconceivable!" Geradil, not for the first- or possibly the last time, captions reality.</strong></p><p></p><p>[Whatever that was 2000 XP]</p><p></p><p>So, that’s nice.</p><p></p><p>More of this kind of thing in a bit.</p><p></p><p>Stay safe and well.</p><p></p><p>Cheers goonalan</p><p></p><p>*Or a word that sounds like ‘muck’.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Goonalan, post: 8147196, member: 16069"] [CENTER][B]Dark Squad in Meet the Uthgardt[/B][/CENTER] [B]Session #027b Ups & Downs. Dark Squad (in alphabetical order, no egos here). [S]Buggles (played by Stu) Male Wood Elf Fighter Lvl 2/Rogue Lvl 3[/S] RIP [S]New Tricks (played by Bear) Male Tabaxi Warlock Lvl 5[/S] RIP [S]Ramshambo (played by Kev) Male Half-Elf Rogue Lvl 5[/S] RIP [S]Vincenzo (played by Haggis) Male Shifter (Wildhunt) Druid Lvl 5[/S] RIP NPCs [S]Daktari Male Human Uthgardt Sky Pony Barbarian Lvl 5[/S] RIP [S]Garumn Male Mountain Dwarf Paladin of Moradin Lvl 5 [/S]RIP Buggles’ undead servitor Gwen Female Duergar Skeleton, in full-face helm and armour NPC hangers-on, rescued prisoners of the Orcs Geradil the “Inconceivable”, aging trapper (Male Human) “Screaming” Courana, lady’s maid (Female Human) Spandwick the Magic Gnome, ex-stage mesmerist (Male Gnome) Bel, the beautiful and lovely wife of Spandwick (Female Gnome)[/B] Then, suddenly- a trace of light- lightning but without the storm- no noise- not even the sound of the constant rain, just the white thunder light etched on cloud- black on black clouds, and all the shades between. And the wind. The wind howling without sound- holding the five members of the Dark Squad aloft. They’re somewhere, nowhere, and… WTF? The five adventurers are at altitude held within the air, surrounded by dark clouds- the see-scape traced by constant forks of silent lightning. It's raining, but here's the thing- they don't seem to be getting wet. They can move, but only slowly- and at great effort- swimming, tumbling against the gusty torrents. They’re not falling- they’re not flying, they’re… they’re… they’re, even I’m struggling to tell you what’s going on here. They’re being held. They’re waiting. They’re in-between. They can shout to each other, which they do- of course, “Where are we?” is a favourite. But then, suddenly, and with giggly jumps- Daktari floats upwards, and out of sight, shouting and hollering in his odd cod-Russian as he ascends. Nice choice of word there, did you notice it, I wrote- ‘ascends’. “I am floating upawayz, it feelz niice! Woooaa!!” The Uthgardt barbarian hollers as he disappears from view. Nothing for a while, then… The sound of drumming. The drumming becomes the tattoo of horses hooves. But what a ride- the horse is racing, tearing along- a thundering headlong dash, it sounds joyous. And gradually, above the sound of the horse’s thunder, can be heard the sounds of Daktari- exulting and proclaiming his joy… louder, then louder still. Daktari’s voice drowning out the drum’s salvo. “Faster my glorious stallion! Faster my beauty… my love!” And it would be a shame for the players not to see what I see, the same for you guys reading this, so here it is… [ATTACH type="full" alt="2701.jpg"]130028[/ATTACH] [B]Daktari at full throttle- is this what love feels like? While the other members of the Dark Squad float and wait within the silent storm. [/B] That’s Daktari, the proud Uthgardt Sky Pony barbarian- he’s doing what he has been bred to do, clamped tight between his legs is his beautiful mount, the pair racing the wind through the steppes just for the joy of it. Is this what love feels like? It is for Daktari. Love is a headlong plunging dash on the back of Vincen D. Horse. “I love you, my beautiful Vincenzo horse!” Try shouting it in cod-Russian, I did- several times, and it worked for me. Some others also found it amusing. But then we’re back to the soundless storm and the shadow- and now there are just four members of the Dark Squad hanging in the air. Waiting. “What happened to Daktari?” Buggles shouts but the wood elf’s question is mostly lost to the wind. Who’s next to depart? That’d be Vinnie, the druid is suddenly lighter than air- giggly, he too ascends. Waving frantically at his friends as he goes. “Zee Yew!” SPLA-DOOOOOSH! The druid falls into water, warm- soapy water, a hot tub; and he’s feeling particularly mellow- surrounding him are the beautiful smiling faces of the three maidens of the wash- Keke, Peke & Cheeky. [ATTACH type="full" alt="2702.jpg"]130029[/ATTACH] [B]"A'right." Say hello to Vinnie-san.[/B] “Arise Vinnie-san, out of the tub, chop-chop- Sheldon wishes to speak with you.” Cheeky coquettishly states, and then giggles some more. “A’right.” The druid slurs and sploshes out of the tub, because… because… well, why not. Vinnie, alas, is sans clothes- but the ladies of the wash don’t mind- and so Vinnie don’t mind neither, he’s a man in tune with nature. “Free-ballin’, yeah.” He gurns and then plods through a lotus flower curtain and outside, to beauty- more beauty… A decorated and ordered garden beyond the bathhouse, and the three maidens of the wash are keen to lead the druid by the hand, and up the garden path. “Sheldon is waiting, Vinnie-san.” Cheeky calls, a little way ahead. “Comin’” the laid back druid smiles and shambles on. To a softly-bubbling naturally heated pool situated before a golden halo of light- the dazzle and the blind is suddenly shadowed as Sheldon pokes his head through the ringed-portal, and into Vinnie’s reality. “MMMMmmmm. Little Vinnie.” Sheldon chews on the words and then lets them out real slow. Sheldon, or else all that can be seen of him- his head and neck, seems to be a member of the genus chelonia, some sort of turtle. Oh, but Sheldon’s head is about thirty to forty feet long. So… he’s a big turtle. [ATTACH type="full" alt="2703.jpg"]130030[/ATTACH] [B]MMMmmmm Sheldon.[/B] “Little Vinnie. MMMmmmm.” Sheldon announces again, savouring the morsel. Vinnie grins up at Sheldon. “You have come a long way, and yet you have much further to go- to your end. Your end, little Vinnie is however in sight- on a far shore, under a burning sun- you will suffer before the silence.” “Stand in the surf- call my name, when you need me most. I will come to you and bring you respite, recovery and restoration. Know this though little Vinnie, you can call upon me just once. Just- once.” Vinnie grins some more, and then finally- full beam, offers a double thumps up to the massive turtle. “MMMmmm. Little Vinnie” Sheldon finishes and then nods forward its wrinkled neck, opens its mouth wide agape, and with its eight foot long tongue, licks the druid- like a popsicle. “Mmmmm.” Vinnie adds. But suddenly we’re back in the clouds and the miming lightning- and there are now just three members of the Dark Squad left hanging around. Waiting on… their ascent? Ramshambow, Newt and… aaarrrggghhhhh! Buggles falls out of sight rapidly, flailing furiously as he goes- and boy does he go, snatched from vision in under a second. Newt, because he’s Newt, begins raging- “Belphagor is my Lord! He protects me-aaarrrrgggghhhhh!” Catkins, like Buggles, is quickly gone from view. Ram manoeuvres himself, as best he can- subject to the wind’s howl, assuming the position of a man at ease with the world- as if reclined on a chaise longue in one of the better salons. It doesn’t make him scream any less as he too, the moment after he gets settled, falls rapidly down- down- down and out of sight. The three adventurers experience the same journey, and yet they’re not together… not yet. It went a little like this… Darkness, heaviness- you cannot move, your arms, your legs, your… nothing moves. You are object. You cannot speak because you cannot move. Not the diaphragm, not the epiglottis, not a breath. There’s water all around you- lapping. You can hear! You are on a boat. You are lying on a boat. You cannot see- there is something on your eyes. Two somethings- one on each eye. The two somethings are circular, and cold. BUMP! The boat just hit something, else BUMPED against something. The smell of animal. You can smell! The smell of a dog, two dogs, three dogs? A big dog? Big dogs. Growling- low and mean. Rough hands upon you, grabbed up- shifted around a body- hefted, manhandled. Like a sack or a dead thing. And then… stood up. You can stand, although not without trepidation. Warmth, it’s hotter here. You can feel! The sound of scratching all around you- surrounds you- up and over you. Like the sound of the book back in the seventh ancestor’s barrow, scratching the story of the Dark Squad in ink. That same noise. Then the light- light and tears, as the two somethings that were covering your eyes fall away. The light! You can see! Although not much at first, seeing it seems is the slowest sense to recover its faculty. Focus. Focus. A lush red deep-pile carpet, expensive. Nestled on the rug one, two, three… four, and maybe some others- coins. Coins on the rug. Not coins- but coin shaped, several of the dull white discs have intricate mazes etched upon them, others show blank- at least the sides showing. Six of them, of the objects/artefacts on the rug, and then you look up and you’re not alone. You are far from alone. Buggles, Newt and Ramshambow stand statue- they cannot move their limbs. To the left and right and up above, as far as can be seen, floor after floor, balcony after balcony- each level rammed with a myriad tiny devils, each of them- all of them, quill in hand making notes in hefty open ledgers before them. The ornate chamber ends in a dock, at which is tethered a boat, a three headed bat-winged hound guards the way. [ATTACH type="full" alt="2703.5.jpg"]130031[/ATTACH] [B]This doesn't look good.[/B] “Turn around you bozzos! Ya got ‘em facing da wrong way knuckleheads!” The voice comes from behind the three former adventurers, large invisible hands roughly spin the trio around to see… To see… A horned demon (or similar) sits at a desk, weighing scales to one side of the fiend, a large gavel on the other- a great open tome before the creature- quill poised at the ready. But that’s not all. A forty foot tall (maybe taller), six-limbed demon/devil squats over the proceedings, passively watches on, every now and then taking draws from a cigar as long as Garumn is/was tall. [ATTACH type="full" alt="2704.jpg"]130032[/ATTACH] [B]"Anythin' you'd like ta get off ya chest?"[/B] “That’s better… Ah, Mister, or should I say- Monsieur Buggelz, we’ve been expecting you.” The demon/devil at the desk snarks. But now the secret’s out, so I’ll drop out of the stream of consciousness and get to the end. The three gathered members of the Dark Squad are afforded the opportunity to have their say- a few final words, if you like. To recant or to make recriminations, if that’s your bag. To deny, again the choice is yours. Disavow, whatever. Just get it off your chest. It goes like this- Buggles- “I’ve not done anything bad, and besides- screw you, I wouldn’t change a thing.” [Spoiler= X-Rated Interlude] Buggles has been in touch, he wishes to make clear (he is insistent) that his reply to the devil/demon (Larry) at the desk was- "Who the naughty word are you?" Which he repeated until he was no longer able to speak. It is of course vitally important that we set the record straight about this, not least because Buggles' forthcoming autobiography, penned from a very warm place in hell, bears the reply for its title. [/spoiler] Newt- Belphagor this… Belphagor that… it’s a bit of a rant really. Ramshambow- “I should have rescued more people, people like me- slaves, I mean. I regret not doing that, but there’s nothing else I’m sorry about. Come on. Get it over with!” But then… “HEY! HEY! LARRY!” “What?” The demon/devil at the desk shouts back. And fluttering down from one of the high balconies comes… Jot. Remember him, the quasit that made his appearance right at the end of the Sunless Citadel, just prior to the Dark Squad unleashing Ashardalon on the world. So, here goes… “Dese are dem ass-hats I wuz tellin’ yer about Larry.” “Dese guys?” The desk demon (Larry) queries, “dese guys are jus’ piss ‘n’ vinegar, I mean- sure, dey gotz da wood elf, and he’s playin’ fer der home team. But… but… da puddy tat?” “Dese are the guys Larry, dese are the fellers that let Ashardalon out, that’s what I’m tellin’ ya!” Jot whines. “Sheesh, adventurers Jot man, not a thought fur anyone els.” “Tell me abaht it Larry, eyes on da prize and…” But Jot’s interrupted. “HEY CHAZ, CHAZ?” The desk demon (Larry) bellows, and flails one arm- as if waving. A cowled boatman appears at the far end of the hall, nods it’s head to briefly reveal a leering skull. “Anuver muck* up at head office, take dese fellers back.” Rough hands grab up the three adventurers, and the procession shifts into reverse gear. Then. Three. Two. One. And the Dark Squad are back in the room. The room in question being a draughty yurt owned by Old Mare. [ATTACH type="full" alt="2705.jpg"]130033[/ATTACH] [B]"Inconceivable!" Geradil, not for the first- or possibly the last time, captions reality.[/B] [Whatever that was 2000 XP] So, that’s nice. More of this kind of thing in a bit. Stay safe and well. Cheers goonalan *Or a word that sounds like ‘muck’. [/QUOTE]
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The Dark Squad in the Secrets of Saltmarsh #136 Into the Mere of the Dead Men.
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