Misadventure Adventure

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“4A? Who in tarnation has been put in 4A.” Schreck said before suddenly getting mad and heading to the door “They better not have moved my clients without a court order!”

Just then it occurred to him that he was leaving the party alone in an unfamiliar location.

“You guys sit tight, there aren’t any cases today so you’re good to be in here as long as you’re bringing some deep south hospitality with ya.” they all nodded and with that he was off.

The party resumed their exploration, from the ceiling above the judge’s bench they could see that the Quartz Room was remarkably similar to other courtrooms they’d seen with the notable exception of being near opalescent in its shimmers and refractions.

“Tim, you know when we get down to the gnomes and your quest is fulfilled” Matilda asked, referencing the prophecy that lead the knight here “What’s going to happen to us?”

“What do you mean?” The Knight asked, pausing from watching their various flexing poses in the reflection. “You quest with me, I mean the new me.”

“Which was the old you?” Matilda asked.

“Yes,” Tim said, now cross-eyed “either way we’ll be friends forever!”

“What if we don’t like the old you?” Eric asked “Because we like you so much.”

“Well, I assume the old me is just like the new me but with more flesh and, you know, some memories.”

“I guess we can hope, it’s just that…” Matilda’s speech was cut off by a loud alarm. An announcement played again, this time there was no glockenspiel chord and the voice was different and rung out as clear as a bell.

“All personnel evacuate. All personnel evacuate to the lobby. This is not a drill. This is not a drill.” The voice kept repeating as the troupe ran out the doors into the lobby.

***

Mightee Marshall’s form lay motionless on the floor, his trunk was upturned and blood pooled in all directions around him. One grisly observation stood out to the crew immediately, Mightee Marshall’s left boot had been removed and had been used as a weapon, the spur now embedded in his head.

Eric gasped and looked away, Matilda hugged him into her side.

Tim immediately looked around suspiciously. All the onlookers looked on, shocked. No one looked particularly guilty. Various papers were strewn around and spattered with blood. Tim’s lunch box lay at the Sheriff’s side on top of the harpoon and Matilda’s pitchfork, the communication crystal was laying to the right of him, his front pocket had been torn off (and presumably the evidence he had in there) and, still clutched tightly in his hand, the key to the ogre kingdom, the giant stinky gem.

Gregory looked exasperated when he came through the door, clearly his meeting hadn’t gone to plan but before he even noticed the body of his friend he once again went through an incredible transformation. He threw his briefcase hard against a wall, as the smell or scent or just presence of the gem, transformed him into a wild animal. He crawled and snarled and hissed at all the onlookers, he leaped around the edges of the room as the witnesses gasped and ran for the doors.

Tim tried to grab the gem to get it away but the little wizard that had earlier scanned the knights lunchbox stopped them in their tracks.

“That’s evidence!” he said with a shake of a head.

“Arrest that beast!” a snooty voice came from over their shoulders. It was Baron von Claspen, the mayor of Capicombital’s Tightee Town. “Clearly he is responsible for this heinous crime.”

Quickly the Baron’s lackeys, T’Flork the Orc and Madame Insediment removed their magnetic boots. Dropped to the floor (which was also the ceiling) and dragged the wild Schreck towards the doors to the holding cells.

The further they got the more lucid Schreck became. When a wizard came in with a coroner’s hood on and cast a spell over the corpse of Mightee Marshall, covering it as well as everything he was holding with a sheet. Suddenly, Gregory came to, and though exhausted called out as he was dragged away.

"Let me go free" Schreck cried out pointedly making eye contact with the party "I won't go, I don't have to" he continued, now darting his eyes towards the briefcase "You've got the wrong man, I'm not the one you're after."

The three tried to follow but the door was slammed and locked in their faces. Behind them, the body of Mightee Marshall was being levitated out with all of the evidence by a group of Wizard guards. The only thing left in the room was Tim’s friends and some traumatised people. A little Tightee came towards them on the ceiling.

“Please indicate if you require some trauma counselling.” She asked in an emotionally detached voice.

“I’ll give you trauma counselling, the knight said throwing Schreck’s briefcase up towards them and deftly bumping the bureaucrat in their little elephant trunk.

The case hit the floor with a thump as the Tightee ran off crying.

Interactive Break

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Let's inspect it...

Not Marshall! The beloved Sherriff! Oh no, looks like the whole crew is going to have to investigate!

Remember, if you want to be a part of the tale: you can pitch new areas, creatures, characters, and items/spells in the existing threads and see them get added to the Lore of the Land encyclopaedia.

Here we are, it’s been a bit of a stretch getting here but we’re finally ready to start our murder mystery arc. The murder of Mightee Marshall, possible framing of Gregory Schreck and the greater legal battle of Mightees V Tightees will play out with some point and click elements.

The next five chapters will have the crew exploring and investigating clues and sources and you will help them.

The end of each chapter will play out from behind a password-locked page (or a series of them), the conclusion of the chapter will reveal clues about what happened to the Sherriff. This evidence is all you have to clear Gregory’s name. So you better find it.

Don’t worry, if you’re not super into this, each challenge will have clues attached to help you quickly find the information you need or give you prompts for passwords. Feel free to discuss your findings in the comment section but be warned there may be spoilers.

This section will return after the mystery has been solved.

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Chapter 20.

Michael — Sat, 26 Oct 2024 06:37:25 GMT

«First Chapter | Next Chapter> Last Chapter»

Our heroes, under the temporary leadership of their legal advisor half-orc, half-ogre friend, were nearing the top of the rope ladder that led to the entrance of the municipal offices and courthouse of the Capicombital.

Eric, who was afraid of heights (and lows, and darkness, and light), climbed with his eyes closed.

“Are we almost there?” he asked.

“We certainly will be soon!” Schreck called back down.

Just then, a gruff but jovial cowboy voice called out.

“Sir, I say, sir. I do declare that that voice there belongs to the one and only Gregory Schreck, Orctorney at Law.”

As the group looked up —except for Eric— they saw a moustachioed figure, either a Mightee or Tightee (it was hard to tell), calling down to them. A big star on his chest glistened in the light. If they were closer, they’d be able to read, "Mightee Marshall: The Sheriff of these here parts."

Chapter 20: Vertical Visit

If you want to know more about something mentioned in the story (e.g. a creature, place or person) go to the Lore of the Land:

If you want information about our hero’s characteristics and inventory at the start of this chapter go here and scroll to the relevant chapter:

The group reached the top and clambered through the upside-down doorway. Thankfully, the low ceilings meant they weren’t too far from the law enforcer above.

“My newfound friends, let me introduce you to Mightee Marshall,” Gregory said, gesturing to the man who was magnetically sealed to the ceiling. “He’s a police officer, an all-around good guy, and makes a darn good peach cobbler, let me tell you.”

Tim looked up in amazement; it was the first time any of the troupe had seen the amazing magnetic boot technology that afforded the Tightees their lofty positions in high society.

“Put ‘er there, pardner!” the elevated and upside-down sheriff called out, extending a hand but not nearly far enough to obtain a handshake. “Consarn it! I hate these flibbertygibbits!”

Mightee Marshall reached down —or up, as it were— and pulled hard on his legs, causing his feet to slide out from the magnetic boots and sending the lil’ law enforcer bouncing off the ground. The whole party saw that his feet were still encased in cowboy boots with an elaborate gemstone pattern stitched into them. The key feature? A pair of spiky spurs hooked to the back with steel frames.

“As I was sayin', put ‘er there!” he said, this time ably shaking the hands of all the ceiling-traversing friends.

“Couldn’t help but notice your fancy footwear,” Tim pointed with one hand up to the still-magnetized boots above them and one down to the spurred heels before them.

“Yeah, double-booted! Quite the fashion statement,” Matilda added with interest.

“Yessirree! Can’t ever take off my ropers, no way, no how!” the Sheriff said with great enthusiasm before asking, “Say, who are these city folks anyhow, Gregory?”

“Some adventurers I picked up along the way. Let me introduce you to Tim Cognito, Matilda, and Eric,” Schreck said, giving a little bow as he indicated with his arm.

Socrates jumped out from Tim’s faceplate and angrily squeaked.

“Oh, and of course, wise lil’ Socrates,” Gregory added before suddenly furrowing his brow and getting mighty serious. “Anyway, you know I’ve been going over the numbers of the case, and I think…”

“Stop counting beans and start spilling them!” Tim interrupted with a pointed finger. “That’s enough chatter. What made the town hall clatter?”

“Oh, that?” Mightee Marshall said, spitting loudly into a nearby spittoon that no one had noticed until now. “I’ve got my suspicions.”

“Do you think it’s related to the case?” Schreck queried.

“Do you think we’re in an elevated state of danger?” Eric asked.

“Yessum,” he said to Schreck before turning his eyes to Eric and nodding, “and yessum, but you just stay close to me, little man. Me and my shiny spurs will keep you safe.”

He nodded with a wink, and both his eyes and spurs seemed to sparkle at once, making Eric blush.

“But to answer the question in more detail, I know who did it.” His voice dropped to a whisper as his eyes shifted from end to end of the room, and he patted his polka-dotted chest pocket. “I can’t talk about it here, but I have secured some evidence that’s going to blow the lid off this case.”

Just then, a door opened from the other side of the lobby. Walking on magnetized boots along the ceiling was the hoity-toity Tightee the party had seen leaning out the window earlier, still clutching a martini glass, which despite being upside-down was not spilling. Following closely behind was an orc that looked significantly angrier and less down-home charming than Schreck. He wore an ill-fitted suit and carried a club with a nail in it. Finally, behind the two of them was a large rock creature that wore a bow on its head.

“Ugh,” Schreck exhaled, “It’s Baron Von Claspen and his hotshot legal team!”

“Only the mayor of Capicombital would be so foolish as to hire a dumb orc as their chief counsel,” Mightee Marshall said before catching himself. “Oh, sorry, Schreck, no harsh feelings.”

“Let’s not forget that I’m only half-orc,” Gregory said. “My objections don’t usually come in the form of a clobber on the head and a series of grunts.”

“And how about Madame Insediment? What a traitor. First taste of money, and she’s tied to his hip,” Marshall said. “Look, if we’re going to talk, we’ll have to move into the Quartz Room.”

Matilda thought she misheard. “Don’t you mean courtroom?” she asked.

“No, ma’am, you heard right the first time,” the Sheriff said. “You take ‘em through, Gregory. I’ve got one more thing I need to fetch from my office.”

“Alrighty then,” Schreck said to the man as he tried to jump up and grab his magnetic boots, “we’ll see you there soon. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Eric said.

“Oh, one more thing,” the little sheriff said, turning back to face them. “I know you folks are bold adventurers, so you’ve probably got all kinds of magic weapons and mystical objects with you.”

“You betcha, we’ve got tons of booty!” Tim said, indicating with their hands the vast amount of loot they’d picked up.

“Well, that’s a problem. You see, the detectors in the Quartz Room will see you as a threat…” Marshall began.

“That’s fine. I like to bend the rules. I’m a bit of a rebel, you know?” Tim interjected.

“… and vaporise all of you instantly,” Marshall finished. “So it would be good if you just hand those over to me for now, and I’ll return them later.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Don’t worry, he’s on the level. No one’s moral compass has a steadier needle,” Schreck leaned in closer to tell Tim.

“Well, alright then, but just so you know, there’s a… uhhh… theft detector on these that will… umm… vaporize you if you take them!” the knight fumbled.

“How creative,” Matilda said, rolling her eyes.

“You got him!” Eric added.

Tim and Matilda first passed over their harpoon and pitchfork, then the knight started emptying their innards by pulling items out one at a time from their mouth. First, the communication crystal, which they handed over to the sheriff while commenting, “If some little goblin comes back with a message from this, don’t listen—it’s private!” Following this, Tim plunged their arm back down their mouth.

This time, Tim pulled out their lunchbox, which was like a miniature treasure chest with decorative clocks on it. “I suppose you don’t need this,” they said, “it’s just my lunch!” Upon saying this, a tiny wizard strolled over from the corner of the room and stood directly above Tim on the ceiling. A strange green smoke emerged from her hands and surrounded the box. After some seconds of thunder and lightning inside the tiny cloud, the cloud went red and made a sound like a quiz show answer being declared wrong.

“I’m sorry, but this is clearly a magical item,” the wizard said, pointing at the box. “That will need to be surrendered too.”

“News to me!” Tim said, tossing it in the Sheriff’s direction. “Well, that just leaves… this!”

Tim pulled out the large stinky gem that the Spaghettians gifted to the knight after saving their village. As soon as it was removed from their faceplate, Schreck’s entire face screwed up, his fangs became more pronounced, and he let out a banshee hiss and ran to the other end of the room.

“What’s going on? It doesn’t smell that bad,” Tim passed the gem to Mightee Marshall and said. “I guess you’d better get that out of here.”

“Point taken,” Marshall said, looking a bit concerned for his friend. “Can you go check on him? I’ve really got to get to that office.”

The further the Sheriff went from them, the more composure was gained by their lawyer friend. Once he had left the room, Gregory was looking more and more like himself though he sat .

As they approached him, they realized Schreck was breathing heavily. Between these heavy gasps, he let out a burning question.

“Where… did… you… get that?”

“It was a reward for saving our village!” Eric said.

“A finely cut gem for Tim. What is it?” Matilda asked, concern in every syllable.

“That—that’s been lost for centuries… the key to the Ogre Kingdom,” Gregory said, tears falling from his eyes. “We can all finally go home!”

“But then why did you react that way?” Matilda asked.

“When they locked the gates to the Kingdom eons ago, they cursed the key so that all ogres will be repelled by it.” By now, the lawyer had enough strength to stand up. “Someone must have been harboring a mighty big grudge.”

“But this means you can reopen the Kingdom? Isn’t that great?” Tim asked reaching a hand out to help Schreck up.

“Well… I can’t, but now someone can,” Schreck said before shaking his head and standing with more resolve. “But not until after this case has been solved. Just don’t bring that thing anywhere near me!”

Hmmm. That stinky gem is both wanted and despised by Schreck and his kind at least now the crew can finally advance to the quartz room.

Stay tuned for the next chapter in a fortnight.

It’s nice to be back again, there’s always something getting in the way. Life, love, laughs… other things that could be stitched onto a tea towel.

Don’t worry we’re not going to abandon Tim and their friends. We want to see where this goes as much as you.

Interactivity will return in a new exciting way in the next chapter. Prepare yourself!

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Chapter 19.

Michael — Mon, 08 Jul 2024 02:29:34 GMT

«First Chapter | Next Chapter> Last Chapter»

“It’s up,” Eric cried, punching one arm up, “and down!” punching the other arm down.

Before the tiny man lay Capicombital, a city made up of a multitude of stalagmites thrusting forth from the earth and stalactites looming above from the cave’s ceiling. The surfaces of all dotted with - Eric squinted his eyes to focus - tiny, quaint windows.

“They’re occupied?” Eric gestured one sweeping arm out in wonder.

“Yes, well actually,” Gregory said, “Capicombital is just the up.”

The team looked on waiting for further information.

“You see the hoity-toity people who live on the upper half of this here cave claim their town is the capital of these here parts.”

“Sooo, they’re jerks?” Tim queried.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Gregory laughed “but one thing is for sure, they got to that there top spot and they’re clinging on for dear life. There ain’t no way, no how, they’ll be budging from-”

Gregory was interrupted as a large stalactite unwedged from it’s central, lofty spot, cracking from one end to the other, plunging into a vacant lot below.

Chapter 19: Assail of Two Cities

If you want to know more about something mentioned in the story (e.g. a creature, place or person) go to the Lore of the Land:

If you want information about our hero’s characteristics and inventory at the start of this chapter go here and scroll to the relevant chapter:

"Well now, I'll be a rooster’s wattle—the courthouse!" Schreck exclaimed in a pell-mell yell, throwing his arms in the air as if objecting to a motion.

"I'm great at this questing thing. Everywhere I go, adventure follows," said Tim confidently.

"You mean disaster!" Matilda retorted, rolling her eyes.

"And spooky things," Eric added, shivering. He couldn't shake the feeling that something ominous followed them wherever they went.

"Whatever it is doesn’t matter," Tim declared, raising a finger aloft before crying out loudly, "Let's quest!"

Schreck led them down a long and winding path. The distance between the city above and the city below was considerable. As they walked, tiny bipedal beings emerged from their stalagmite homes to catch a glimpse of the fallen courthouse. Occasionally, these creatures would wave and call out a hearty "Howdy!" to Gregory Schreck.

As they got closer to the commotion, it became clear that the creatures were very human in appearance, about the height of an average halfling with matching foot sizes. The only notable differences were their oblong heads and the miniature elephant trunks in the middle of their faces.

“These people are known as the Mightees, so named because they dwell in the stalagmites all over these wide plains,” Gregory explained.

Matilda, who until recently was a farmer, wouldn't have characterised their current locale as a "great open plain," but she refrained from saying so to hear the whole tale.

"They're also named for their ineffable and unbreakable spirit to improve their station in life—a goal they might just reach in the future," the orc-ogre continued. "That's where I come in!"

"So, are these the fellas you're, ya know, lawyering for?" Eric asked oh-so-eloquently.

"I suppose you could put it that way," Schreck responded, turning down a street lined with large boulders pick-axed down to rubble. "You see, the city above is home to the Tightees. If you go far back enough, they were all part of the same group. But eventually, some started to accumulate more and more wealth and forced others to dig out the mine."

They walked around a giant hole labeled 'Bottomless Pit.' Around the edges lay a collection of detritus that looked like remnants of a fancy dinner: an upended silver platter, some half-nibbled hors d'oeuvres, and cheese so blue it could be mistaken for lapis lazuli.

“Eventually, they developed these magnetized shoes that reacted to the mineral deposits in the cave walls,” Gregory said, shaking his big green head. “Soon all the rich ones moved out, hollowed out the stalactites above, and before anyone could comprehend what was happening, the Tightees were born. A mess of capitalism's worst instincts, with unfairly paid workers living down below. They don’t dispose of their rubbish, you know. They just throw it out their windows and let gravity—and the Mightees—do the rest.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything…” Matilda grimaced, holding her nose as they walked past yet another discarded caviar bowl, smashed champagne flute, and cigar butts.

“It wasn’t perfect, but the pittance the Mightees were getting for mining the gems was deemed unfair down here, and they started a strike,” Gregory continued, a small smile forming. “You gotta admire their gumption, sticking it to the big guys. But that’s the problem. The Tightees want for nothing. What do they care if they don’t have gems for a while?”

The troupe stopped to watch a Mightee push through a hinged door from a kitchen, place a cloche on a platform, and proceed to hoist it up by a rope on a pulley all the way up to what looked like a fancy restaurant above. This took some time, as the gap between the cities was a few hundred metres.

“But that’s great, isn’t it? Can’t the Mightees just go and mine and keep the spoils for themselves? And where do I need to go to find those gnomes mentioned in the prophecy?” Tim asked, eventually breaking the silence and scratching their head.

“You’d think so, but do you see that?” Gregory pointed to a huge staircase and door. “That’s the passage to the mine. The Tightees have locked it up tight. Along with those gnomes you’re itching to find? That’s why I’m here—class action lawsuit. Mightees v. Tightees.”

“Sounds like these Tightees are real pieces of work,” Matilda said, waving her fist.

“…And they smell!” a random Mightee passerby yelled out, wrapping a bow around Matilda’s assessment.

“Nicely put, Pionerax,” Schreck said with a winning smile in their direction before leading the party once more through the streets.

As they dodged the fancy rubbish strewn throughout the Mightee streets, they noticed that the closer they got to the fallen courthouse, the more crowded the streets became with Mightees eager to assess the situation.

The courthouse itself was intricately carved to give it a Romanesque appearance. Its entrance, naturally, was several stories up. Thankfully, some industrious Mightees had already attached a rope ladder to it.

Gregory navigated the rowdy crowd, straining to understand what the Mightees were saying. Finally, he blew a note on his harmonica, climbed three rungs up the ladder, and commanded everyone’s attention.

“My mighty friends, don’t be clamberin’ and hollerin’,” he called out. “I’m just as distressed as you are about this here building fallin’ down, and I’ll set right out to find a darn-tootin’ solution for it.” He paused for a moment before asking, “Now, what is it that this here municipal block has landed on?”

A rabble ensued, but one voice broke through clearly.

“Just the Rubble Gardens! No one was hurt!”

A head leaned out of one of the windows above, looking exactly like a Mightee but adorned with a monocle, a bow tie, and gesturing with a martini glass and an expensive-looking cigarette at the people below.

“Oh, of course,” the Tightee said with gleeful over-enunciation and scoffing sarcasm, “this huge, hulking building fell from the town above and managed not to harm anyone or crush any charming Mightee hovels!”

The Tightee cackled from the window before angrily shouting at the furious congregation below.

“We all know this was some kind of ridiculous Mightee plot, and we’ll be dealing with it in court!”

The Mightee crowd lost control, throwing small stones and yelling spirited class-warfare slogans.

“Well, I don’t think there’ll be any calmin’ them down now,” Schreck said, his limbs firmly on the rope bridge. “Time to go smooth things over.”

The lawyer started climbing up the wonky rope ladder, its rungs spaced somewhat too closely for his tall frame. He abruptly stopped and looked down.

“Y’all comin’ or what?” he asked, tilting his head.

The party exchanged glances before Matilda grabbed hold of the ladder and started climbing.

“What the heck, it’s not like we’re going to get any deeper today.”

“I’m not particularly fond of legal quests,” Tim said, wrapping their gauntlet around the rungs. “Not enough jousting.”

“Squeak!” Socrates squeaked.

The party turned to see Eric still firmly on the cave floor.

“You lot go on without me. I’m just going to stay here… where it’s safe,” the cowardly butcher said, looking around for threats that didn’t materialize.

“Ya know,” Matilda said, grinning, “you’re less likely to have a building fall on you inside.”

With a sigh, Eric started climbing up.

Man, I hate those elitist Tightees! I hope they choke on their martini olives…

Stay tuned for the chapter

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Chapter 18.

Michael — Sat, 08 Jun 2024 10:19:12 GMT

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Tim thought quickly.

“Well, yes! It was easy. So easy,” the Knight turned to their compatriots and winked, “Right, everyone?”

The huddle, which included Matilda, Eric and Gregory Schreck nodded in unison, rather unconvincingly. Tim’s eyes darted back to the three-headed troll.

“Well, then give it ‘ere and you can be on yer merry way,” the head named Barry grumbled.

“We were just…” Tim began to pace before the troll, stalling for time. “We laughed and laughed at how simple this riddle is, so we simply had to march on over here to rub it in your face… umm, I mean faces… when, uhh…”

Eric rotated his hands in apprehension as he waited for Tim to say something.

Tim paused their pacing, turned to the Troll Patrol and continued, “… we were spooky-shocked by a warlock. Memory spell, you see? We’ve all forgotten!” here Tim once again turned and winked, making everyone complicit in the lie. “Right, everyone?”

Once again the team agreed in dubious harmony.

“So you see we should be allowed through on a technicality,” Tim said this time giving a thumbs up behind their back.

Chapter 18: Sneaky, Creaky and Oh So Freaky

If you want to know more about something mentioned in the story (e.g. a creature, place or person) go to the Lore of the Land:

If you want information about our hero’s characteristics and inventory at the start of this chapter go here and scroll to the relevant chapter:

“If the riddle was so easy why can’t you just solve it again?” Asked Helen, reasonably.

“You’ve got six ears and you’re still not listening!” Tim exploded in frustration.

”Oi!” Barry burst out, clearly annoyed.

“Now, now Barry you know that that is a common misunderstanding,” Theodore said, attempting to smooth over whatever bizarre faux-pas had been committed.

“Our heads aren’t sharing the same consciousness… it doesn’t work like that,” Helen stated, matter-of-factly with an eye-roll.

“Well, which one of your consciousnesses come up with these asinine riddles then?" Matilda asked rolling her eyes and crossing her arms before pointing her finger accusatorily at each head.

“That’s a bit low,” Theodore said with a single tear dangling from his eye, clearly evidence of the sticky, tricky, poxy and foxy wordplay being his.

“Yeah Matilda, don’t hurt their feelings,” Eric said, in his best peace-keeping voice.

Matilda huffed not wanting to let on to too much.

“Don’t worry everyone… I’ve got an idea.” She whispered.

“Look, what are our options here?” Matilda continued. “It’s not our fault that some toothless warlock jumped out and had at us.”

“Here, here!” Eric said in what started as a confident exclamation but faded to a whimper at the end of the first word.

“I see your point…” Theodore said, still hurt at the insinuation his riddle was terrible.

“You know, this is an ableist plot. We have magic-induced memory deficiencies,” she held her hands up to her hand and swirled them around to indicate confusion, “Surely we have a case… even in this crazy realm?”

“Yeah!” Tim pontificated, pointing to the cave’s roof with delight “You’ll be hearing from our lawyer!”

They all slowly turned to face Gregory, who was quiet for some time. Socrates eventually let out a loud squeak.

“What’s that little critter filibusterin’ about now?” Schreck responded.

“He says that it’s time you subpoena these bigots so we get our day in court!” Matilda proclaimed in a fiery manner.

“So, that’s right? They can’t discriminate against us on account of the memory spell?” Eric said.

“That is correct,” Gregory stated matter-of-factly, “they can’t force our hand on the riddle without facing serious repercussions. It’s all evident in the Recollection Regulations.”

“See…” Tim said, goading the Troll Patrol as the knight started strolling casually towards them, “So we’ll just be moseyin’ down this cave. Don’t worry about saying goodbye, we’ll send a postcard”.

“Ahem,” a loud guttural throat-clearing echoed around the cavern, when the knight looked up, they saw it was Barry “Yes but article 12, section 85 of the Riddle Legislation clearly states that anyone, corporeal or noncorporeal, who has not paid a riddle-ridden toll may not proceed without passing an equal or more-complex challenge as decided by the Patrolling Body, corporeal or noncorporeal, whose jurisdiction the toll is handed under.”

The troll head somehow managed to quote exactly from the law in what seemed to be an impossibly executive tone.

“He’s always leaving the candle on at all hours to read those blasted law books,” Helen said, “never thought it would come in handy.”

Once again the whole troupe turned to face Schreck. Socrates squeaked.

“Yes, yes he’s correct,” Schreck admitted.

“So if you don’t answer our riddle, we’ll see you in court!”

“Fine then!” Tim called out loudly in exasperation “I don’t care anymore, we’ll just pay the stupid toll.”

“Just so you know, there will be a Failure to Riddle surcharge on that toll.” Theodore, the most agreeable of the heads, said “It’ll bring the total up to 150 gold pieces.”

“Each!” Barry added.

“Let’s face it, you’ve wasted our time,” Helen added.

“But that’s daylight robbery!” Gregory Schreck said in an appeal to the Troll Patrol’s erstwhile better nature. “Corporeal and noncorporeal-ly."

“200 each then. Come on, we haven’t got all day.” Helen said as the two arms on either side of the long body stretched out palms open.

“200 each? Why didn’t you say so?” Tim said, “Why were we even bothering with that stupid riddle, I’ll pay it now.”

The whole party looked at them, stunned.

“Yes, I’ll just reach in and grab my wallet now.” The knight reached straight down into their faceplate and pulled out an empty palm.

“Oh, how embarrassing! I seem to have misplaced my wallet.” Tim said, patting around at places where people normally have pockets before snapping their fingers. “That’s right, I left it in your office up ahead Gregory.”

“You did?” the Knight glared at Schreck who quickly changed his tune. “You did, of course, how could we be so careless, I’d blame the memory spell but that happened after.”

“Well that settles it, we’ll go ahead and grab my wallet and come back and pay you, I’ll even throw in a coupla’ enchanted steak knives for your trouble.” Once again the knight started to walk towards them as if the score had been settled.

“Hold it,” Barry said, darting his eyes suspiciously. “Why does it take so many of you to grab a wallet?”

“Clearly because it is so filled with money!” Matilda fibbed faster than a greased-up cheetah.

“Come on you three, you can trust us. When have I ever been anything but courteous, honest and respectable?” Schreck asked and it was true, the lawyer had never done anything to betray their trust before and they were convinced that he wasn’t now.

“Fine, Theodore turn off the cave defense mechanism so they don’t get digested.” Helen finally relented as Theodore untied some sort of magical rope.

“But you better be back here before tomorrow morning!” Barry insisted.

“Oh yeah, not a problem, wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Tim shouted out behind them as they walked past them waving their hand in an off-hand manner and whispering “200 gold pieces each, what do they take us for?”

As the troupe marched into the cave Matilda giggled with delight. “Those chumps couldn’t stop a medusa with a mirror.” She exclaimed.

Socrates squeaked, making his presence known on Tim’s shoulder.

“I don’t think I take your meaning, Matilda.” he said, before becoming a little flustered, “In fact, I quite resent that remark. It’s well-known that mirrors turning medusas into stone is a harmful and problematic stereotype. Why I once dealt with a case-”

Here Gregory was cut off, the narrow cave didn’t seem like it could hide any more entities but then from one of the recessed creases wobbled out a tiny troll in a jester hat, stumbling about with a walking stick.

He staggered in front of them as if he might fall apart entirely, before suddenly springing to life with jubilation and a theatrical flourish. Then he started to sing directly at Matilda.

“Oh, fair maiden and your whole brave team,

if you wish to move on past this rocky seam,

you’ve passed the start and have reached the middle…”

The party looked on in horror as they knew what the next line would be but no one could intervene fast enough.

“but you won’t reach the end lest ye answer me riddle!”

The troll took a bow. The group all looked at each other exasperated. Tim just shrugged and took a step over the jester. The rest just followed silently, while the loud protests of the troll echoed in the chamber.

“Do you have to come through here often?” Eric asked, looking up at the tall half-orc, half-ogre.

“Mmm-hmm,” Gregory replied with a slight nod of the head.

“Must get a bit annoying with all the rid-” Eric continued before being unceremoniously cut off.

“RIDDLES! GET YA RIDDLES! ALL ORIGINAL RIDDLES!” a curious-looking, old halfling woman in an incredibly dirty petticoat, around each of her bloated feet were shambolically tied bells which she kicked around as she yelled her slogans.

“RIDDLES GOING CHEAP! WE’VE GOT ‘MIRROR’, WE’VE GOT ‘NOTHING’, WE’VE GOT ‘YOURSELF'. ALL THE CLASSICS! ALL THE BEST!”

“Now see here, do you have a license to be riddl’in here, Bertha?” Gregory asked with one raised eyebrow. Bertha, as she was apparently called, went flush in a rushed blush, high-tailing in the other direction.

“WHAT RIDDLES, I AIN’T GOT NO RIDDLES AND I NEVER DID!” they could hear her voice as it disappeared into the catacombic caverns.

“You weren’t kidding,” Tim said looking at Eric as they walked “It’s like an epidemic of withered, quizzer-givers.”

Just then a flamboyant-looking Sphinx, dressed to the nines, leapt from the top of the cave’s roof.

“Rid…” But before he had the chance to finish his first glam-rock-inflected syllable, Socrates leapt from Tim’s shoulder and nipped the annoying hoople right on his sequined platform boots. He did, however, let out a yowl as the party continued down the incredibly long passage.

***

“… anyway the case got thrown out and you’re darn tootin’ that the defendant and plaintiff did the cave-drill quadrille until morning at that night’s hootenanny.” Gregory said, winding up another shaggy dog legal story before stopping dead in his tracks.

“Hey, whoa Nelly, stop there Eric…” Gregory said holding up his hand in a halting motion.

“What is it a trap? A trick? A… a… another troll?”

“No it’s just that we’re here” he pulled a switch which opened a sloped passageway, together they went sliding down at a rapid pace.

Eventually they came to the end of the tunnel as the slope hit a near 90 degree angle and they skidded out onto a rocky outcropping that overlooked an expansive cave. As Eric dusted off his bottom and Matilda checked in with Socrates (who’d become so painfully dizzy being thrown around inside Tim’s armour) Gregory took some steps forward and raised his hand like a tour guide at a museum.

“Here it is the capital of the catacombs ‘Capicombital’

The party looked at the cave amazed before them was a gigantic city sprawling through a huge open area of the cave. They’d finally arrived.

Ooooo cave city… don’t we treat you guys good over here on Misadventure Adventure.

This post we really want to sing out the praises of loyal reader Sath who has been reading for a long time and recently became a paid subscriber. This legend receives nothing for his money but definitely contributes to our enthusiasm for writing more regularly (we have people to let down!), so if you like Misadventure Adventure (and who doesn’t) sign up for a paid subscription and be more like Sath (our hero).

Stay tuned for the next chapter in a fortnight.

Nothing much to report here, just that we’re continuing to plonk along with the current votes that we’ve received anticipating an upcoming story arc that requires a different kind of interaction. For now sit back and relax and enjoy being out of the driver’s chair for a while.

Last week we asked people to vote on a couple of choices, first of all Tim’s eventual response from Kackel by way of Glorbachev will be influenced by these choices:

This is how you know we don’t cheat, because if we did that dating pool thing would’ve been a shoe-in.

Furthermore, this choice was fulfilled in this very chapter. Tick that one off:

This choice in general was majorly influenced by a childhood event where a couple of people threatened to beat up my friend and I literally did let us go to retrieve something and make us promise to come back so they could beat us up.

We didn’t go back.

The Glammy Sphinx that made a brief appearance this chapter was a character suggested by reader Alexa Tuttle. You too can suggest a critter here: https://misadventure.substack.com/p/create-a-creature/

If you enjoyed this please do one, some or all of the things below:

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Chapter 17.

Michael — Tue, 07 May 2024 10:46:40 GMT

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Tim Cognito found it difficult to pass the time as their companions slept. The sleepless knight was accustomed to sleepless nights, for they were used to being alone and rarely needed to stop for a break. It took all their might not to pace around and disturb the huntscrabby resting in the nest Tim had made for the little guy in their innards.

Tim instead took to sorting through their inventory. Tim unhinged their mouth plate, and reached an armoured hand deep into their helmet, feeling around. The best part about being hollow was that rather than lugging a big old body around, Tim was practically their very own backpack.

Tim’s fingers gripped around the stinky gem bestowed onto them by the grateful Spaghettians. “Nah, I’ll leave that where it is for now,” the knight muttered before continuing their stocktake.

Next, Tim grasped a wooden box, no bigger than a lunchbox. It was shaped like a treasure chest and bound with a strap of leather. Imprinted upon the strap was a depiction of a clock. A fishy scent permeated the item.

“By the thunder of Armadeus’ broom!” Tim breathed. “Why is everything I own so smelly?”

Tim set the box to one side, busied themselves once more, and pulled from within them the Communication Crystal. Tim inhaled sharply. “Well, I suppose I do need some help.”

Turning the crystal in their hand until it glowed a powerful blue. Tim clasped the gem in their hands, trying to contain the ribbons of blue light breaking forth and waking their compadres. Glancing around, Tim confirmed they were the only conscious member of the group, before allowing the gem to float upwards and begin its task.

The knight waited for a dial tone, but none came.

“Oi, I haven’t got all day!” came a squeak somewhere near Tim’s ankle. Tim looked down to see a small goblin, tapping its feet impatiently next to them.

“So, what’s ya message then?” the goblin asked.

Chapter 17: Taking Stock (Alternatively: Cakes on the Riddle)

If you want to know more about something mentioned in the story (e.g. a creature, place or person) go to the Lore of the Land:

If you want information about our hero’s characteristics and inventory at the start of this chapter go here and scroll to the relevant chapter:

“What do you want?” Tim asked.

“You serious, mate? I came all the way here, do you not know how this works?”

“Of course I do, but just to check that you do, why don’t you tell me how it works!”

The goblin sighed. “Listen here, ‘cause I’m only going to say this once. What yer holdin’ in yer hand is a bonafide, toppa tha range, GGL Communication Crystal. If that were a gift, someone clearly likes you!” The goblin here raised his eyebrows to a comical effect. “I’m here as your personal message taker, representing the Goblin Guild of Luddites Incorporated!”

“Luddites?”

“Yep, these newfangled magics are all convenience but have none o’ the ‘eart. So we GGL representatives traverse the land to deliver yer messages with a smile, or at least a not-so-aggressive scowl.”

The goblin shifted his weight, leaning in before continuing. “Naturally, these services come at a premium. Bespoke message deliveries ain’t something we can just give away. Now if I’ve got this right, yer sending this message to The Great Spaghetti Bowl?”

Tim nodded.

“Great, that’ll be five gold pieces.”

“Five gold pieces! You’re dreaming.”

The goblin raised his voice. “I wouldn’t haggle if I were you, mate. Last guy who tried to negotiate with me, well let’s just say he’s in no fit state-”

“Shhhhh,” Tim interrupted, preventing the goblin from waking their friends. “Alright, alright. Take your money.”

Tim promptly handed over the gold. “Now how do we do this?”

“Well it’s very simple, you look at me, ya rattle off whatever ya gots ta say and I repeat it to the recipient. It’s a user-friendly process, served with a smile.” The goblin contorted his face into what would be considered a sneer.

“Okay then, umm, well-” Tim staggered awkwardly, “well, you see, I- I-”

“What’s tha problem?”

“Well, it’s just that,” Tim exhaled, “There’s this lady-”

“Wah-ho, a love letter to an ol’ flame,” the goblin winked, his face distorting. Tim shuddered, wishing the goblin were still smiling. “Way ta go, Casanova! Alright, hit me with it.”

The Knight hesitated before cracking their neck and spritzing breath freshener into their helmet. “Okay then. Umm. Hi there, Kackel.”

Tim coughed and looked down at the goblin. “Wait, let me try again. Take two.”

The knight folded their arms and leaned against the cave wall, purposefully deepening their voice.

“So Kacks, don’t know what’s going on with you, but we’re just - y’know - hanging out here. In a cave. Still questin’.”

Tim cleared their throat once more and shuffled their weight awkwardly. “Yep. So, that’s the update on our end. Ummm, I hope you’re doing ok. And I hope to hear from you soon. Y’know, when you have time. I know you’re probably busy up there.”

Tim shrugged, his false nonchalance beginning to crack away. “Also, if you’ve got any magic advice it would really help us out. Questin’ is just not the same without ya Kackel… I’ve said too much. Okay, bye.”

“Yikes, ya sure you don’t want another take?” the goblin chuckled, before giving a cavalier salute to the knight. As he walked away, he called out, “just jestin’ with ya, kid. Don’t forget to leave a five-star review, the name’s Glorbachev.”

Tim watched the goblin disappear.

What’s the point of this crystal if it doesn’t let me call her direct? thought Tim. They then replayed in their mind the message that was now on its way to Lady Kackel and put their helmet in their armoured hands. Idiot, Tim berated themself.

~~Voting Time~~

~~Kackel sent Tim and the others back on good terms~~ ~~but~~ ~~she must feel a little heartbroken about this casual, feigned-nonchalance-laden message. When she writes back with the new spell what other information should she include:~~

To Tim’s surprise, Socrates was scratching around in their innards. The little huntscrabby had been disturbed by the conversation and was ready to meet the day.

The two sat by the extinguished fire for a while, deep in thought about the Troll Patrol’s riddle.

Before long Matilda awoke.

Soon after Gregory Schreck, their Part-Ogre, Part-Orc, Part-Lawyer companion, woke too.

As Schreck prepared for them a Catacombic delicacy, a warm coffee-like beverage that he jokingly described as de-cave-inated, Eric finally awoke from his slumber.

“It’s about time!” Matilda sniped.

“It’s not my fault,” Eric insisted amidst many yawns, “my circadian rhythm’s all out of whack here. There’s no light.”

“Then why did you always sleep in on the surface too?” Matilda joked at the sleepy man.

“Will you all be quiet?” Tim interrupted, “as far as I’m concerned you’re all lazy.”

“Hey! Just because you’re an animate mind in an inanimate object cursed to stay awake at all times doesn't mean that we should feel guilty.” Matilda clapped back.

“All I’m saying is that this quest would be over by now if I were by myself,” Tim added with all the arrogance of a snowman at the end of winter.

“Well then,” Gregory interrupted the arguers, “that’s great!”

Tim and Matilda turned to face him. Eric had already fallen back asleep.

“This confidence is fantastic, it must mean you’ve solved the riddle!” The Solic-orc-ter stated, raising an eyebrow as if he were cross-examining a witness.

“Well, yes…” the knight said before deflating, “I mean, no, not exactly!”

“Consarn it! You know those trolls will make short work of us if we’ve not got an answer for them.” Schreck exclaimed before adding “I mean, Theodore’s alright but the other two? Let’s just say the last billy goat gruff that met with them was served with a side of collared greens.”

***

On they walked through the tunnel. Gregory carried Eric on his back as the small-statured butcher needed his beauty sleep.

All their heads swirled with possible answers to the riddle. They thought of sticky foxes, moulded phlegm, uncontrolled poxes and random letters of the alphabet.

Tim couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling from the night before. All through the walk they kept looking over their shoulders expecting to see some kind of beastie following behind.

Each time they peered behind them, there was nothing there.

Socrates squeaked.

“What are you talking about?” Matilda asked the inquisitive arachnoid, who promptly squeaked back in reply.

“He wants to know what you’re looking for…” Matilda relayed the message with a serious tone to her voice.

“Oh nothing, just, umm, rotating the old neck,” the darty-eyed knight covered up with quick thinking, “you know, these old things get stuck if you don’t grease them from time to time.”

Here the knight spun their helmet all the way around with exorcistic dexterity, making sure to sneak one more look in the process.

“He also mentioned something else…” Matilda leaned in toward the Huntsgrabby with a serious whisper, “he said you sent a message to Kackel, you sly old dog. What did you say? Did you confess your love? Did you set up a post-quest date?”

“It wasn’t anything like that at all,” Tim protested, “plus it isn’t any of your-”

Here the knight was cut off. The tunnel took a particularly sharp but familiar turn and the group were once again standing before the Troll Patrol.

“Well, look what the septuplets dragged in!” Helen screeched referencing the cave-dwelling critters that eat dirty clothing.

“Have you found an answer to our riddle?” Theodore asked with a kind smile.

“Or is it time to pay the consequences?” Barry asked with his flat voice.

Tim wanted the answer to crawl into their head - in the same manner Socrates was presently rumbling about inside their helmet - but it was no use. They looked at the others in their party. Matilda shrugged, Schreck shook his head contritely, Eric drooled onto Gregory’s shoulder.

They were all at a loss for words.

~~Voting Time~~

~~Soooo, no one got the answer to the riddle correct… BUT the big spin on the contingency wheel meant that everyone is going to be able to sneak through. How will they accomplish that though?~~

Glorbachev will be back at any moment with some hot-off-the-press Kackel news! Meanwhile, how are we getting past these trolls?

Stay tuned for the next chapter two weeks from now (I mean it, we’ve got something special in the works). Voting closes the day before, comment answers are open until we feel like closing them!

Hey… so this is awkward. We’re still here. We took some time off… mainly because I (Michael) was finishing a short film and submitting it to festivals. Shockingly, somehow that snowballed, and now I’ve finished two short films in the period between this chapter and the last one.

The film is called ‘Hinterborough’ and there’s no where you can see it at the moment (though you can watch a trailer at our website), it was a quarter-finalist in Serbest a Moldovan Film Festival. So if anyone asks… I’m big in Moldova.

The other one that has just been finished in the last few days is called ‘Functional Block Diagrams’ and it looks like this:

In hilarious other news, I tried to get AI bots to solve the riddle and they couldn’t. My favourite thing is that Chat-GPT would come up with an answer like ‘Gum’ and then explain its answer line by line until it got to the last one where it said that you change ‘fox’ to ‘mox’ and then you get gum because they sound alike (They obviously don’t). I then asked how they sound alike and it told me that it was a ‘play on words’ but couldn’t explain how. I then told it that it was wrong and it then suggested ‘Maple Syrup’ again explaining everything adequately before again saying that ‘Maple Syrup’ sounds like ‘mox’.

The revolution is not quite here.

Hey, so last chapter people voted to say they’re spooked because a shadowy figure was looking on at the group and Tim. That has been noted but you might not see mention of it at the moment (unless looking very closely) because it will come into play later.

By the way, we have had no suggestions for the character who told Tim about the quest in riddle form (in the last chapter) so feel free to come up with something or you’ll force us to be creative YIKES!

Now it is worth pointing out that there will be NO new interactive elements next week as the new arc will be interactive in a whole different way.

Your Submission!

Who is this wizened elder? Lost senile septuagenarian in his pyjamas? Master of the art of divination? Lacklustre slam poet?

Comment on this post with a name and general description of who keeps coming forth to prophesise Tim’s future and we’ll add him to The Lore of the Land.

If you enjoyed this please do one, some or all of the things below:

Chapter 16.

Michael — Wed, 26 Apr 2023 12:43:22 GMT

«First Chapter | Next Chapter> Last Chapter»

Puzzled by the Troll Patrol’s headscratcher, the group wobbled gently atop the gelatin camp beds Tim had conjured for them.

Matilda warmed herself with the flickering flames of their campfire, as she watched Gregory Schreck play a bluesy scale on his harmonica. There was barely room in her mind for a riddle as the maiden occupied herself with how her feelings for the Orc/Ogre/Lawyer were fast becoming more than that of a new friend. For her, his presence filled what would otherwise be a dreary space with a sense of hospitality and down-hominess.

“There’s something so unpretentious about the harmonica,” Eric commented gleefully, interrupting Matilda’s thoughts.

“Something kind of annoying too,” Tim said, pointedly.

Gregory ceased his playing and slipped the instrument into his breast pocket, “uh well, it’s been nice to meet y’all folks, but I always say that if you’re fixin’ to spend time with someone it’s best to get to know them too.”

Chapter 16: Campfire Stories

If you want to know more about something mentioned in the story (e.g. a creature, place or person) go to the Lore of the Land:

If you want information about our hero’s characteristics and inventory at the start of this chapter go here and scroll to the relevant chapter:

“If you’d oblige me the time I’ll give you the straight story,” he continued casting his eyes around to meet any incoming objections, “right then, there ain’t nothing fancy about me. I’m 42, a lawyer and father to two gorgeous kids.”

“How sweet! What are their names?” said Eric.

“Phlegm and Snout,” Gregory said raising a hand towards Tim who was already shooting his arm forward accusatorily, “and no, I don’t think the phlegm in the riddle has anything to do with my boy.”

“Kids must miss you a lot, though I guess it’s good that they get to stay home with their mum,” Eric posited.

The normally serious and direct lawyer misted over, and despite a solitary tear rolling down a plump, green cheek, he held his demeanour. Matilda took the opportunity to move closer to Gregory; she placed a caring hand on his shoulder.

“So you’re not married, then?” she cleared her throat to disguise her relief.

“Sadly, the kids mother… passed some years ago,” Gregory had returned to his state of stoicism, drawling calmly, “like I said, it’s hard raising two kids as bi-species, single-parent family. I always tell them when they’re in a conflict, just put yourself in someone else’s skin.”

Matilda nodded, “walk a mile in someone else’s shoes.”

“No, we don’t steal shoes,” the adage clearly hadn’t made its way underground, and Gregory continued, “but then there was this one time we were staying with the orc side of the family. I reminded Phlegm and Snout of how to live morally, and wouldn’t you believe it, in a red hot minute my orcish cousin had procured the skin right off the very person Snout had been arguing with.”

Eric gasped.

“Bah,” Tim couldn’t help themselves, “this is why you should stick with shoes and not skin in your analogies.”

“Well Tim, now we know more about Gregory than we do about you,” Matilda crossed her arms and audibly harrumphed.

The group sat in silence, save for the crackle of the fire.

“Fine, I’ll go,” Matilda said, poking her tongue out at Tim. “Eric and I hail from The Great Spaghetti Bowl.”

Gregory Schreck met her eye without a flicker of recognition.

“Unfortunately, it’s exactly what it sounds like,” Matilda shook her head. “A literal bowl of spaghetti.”

Eric added, “That’s right. We grew up in the shadow of this terrible prophecy having to cook offerings for a vile creature.”

“I was a farmer in the basil fields,” Matilda said.

“I see,” Gregory said, eyebrows raised, “and how about you, Eric?”

“Uh, a butcher!” Eric answered, his eyes ping-ponging from side to side.

Matilda regaled Gregory with stories of their time growing up. Eric chimed in occasionally as old friends do to spoil the endings of anecdotes, correct the record or exaggerate elements.

“It’s funny,” Matilda said, “until Tim arrived, I really didn’t understand how small our world was.”

“Yeah, it’s like we were told our whole lives to look at things one way, but it wasn’t the right one. Right?” Eric added.

“Now, that I’m a polyglot-” Matilda started.

Eric excitedly waved his hands, interrupting her.

“You’re coming out? I just want you to know that I love you just the same.”

Eric lept off his jelly bed and wrapped his arms around his friend.

“No, no, no a polyglot,” Matilda extracted herself from Eric’s grip. “It’s someone who knows a whole range of languages, not just the one.”

“Oh, I knew that!” Eric cleared his throat and plonked himself back on his blob of jelly.

“It’s just now that all these languages are in my head, it’s really shown me how limiting the Spaghetti Bowl was.” Matilda made an uncharacteristic sniffle, wiping her nose on her sleeve before continuing, “I now know of how… how insignificant I am.”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“Well,” Eric coughed, “I’ve been holding onto a secret now, and like you said Matilda, it doesn’t seem like the past really matters anymore so I’m going to come clean.”

Eric propped his hairy knuckled hands on his lap, interweaving his stubby little fingers.

“You see, when I was apprenticing as a butcher I got this niggling sense that it was, ya know, wrong to kill things and eat them.”

Matilda clapped her hands, “I knew it! You’re a vegetarian!”

Gregory was delighted, “A vegetarian butcher? Can’t wait to tell the folks at home.”

“Well, yeah, I just love little critters.” He scanned the cave for Socrates and the two gave each other a friendly nod.

“So that’s why your mince was so lean!” Matilda laughed.

“Yep. It was all plant-based, ya see?” Eric shrugged, “these days that stuff is so tasty and appealing that people didn’t even seem to notice.”

“I can’t believe you never told me!” Matilda laughed.

“Yeah, well, seems pretty insignificant now. So far from home.” He concluded.

Eric continued the flow of conversation after his confession. He spoke of his youth and the summers at Cannoli Camp. Matilda frequently interrupted, just as he had when she spoke.

Even Socrates squeaked a little song out to show his excellent dancing acumen. Matilda translated the little fella’s sounds, the effects of Lady Kackel’s translation spell. Though the atmosphere was fun and frivolous there was something unsettling about the campfire arrangement, so far from the Spaghetti Bowl. So deep beneath the surface.

Voting Time

Hey… this place is kind of spooky, right?

Are the troop being watched?

The knight was uncharacteristically quiet. Tim sat off to the side, their chest plate ajar as they fisted handfuls of hay into the space where a corporeal knight’s abdomen would otherwise be. No one was sure why.

The jovial atmosphere was somewhat stifled by the knight’s dire mood, so Eric and Matilda tried to engage them in conversation. They both talked about Lady Kackle and their exploits with the Jabberwonky.

“He wasn’t so tough!” Eric said confidently.

“Not when you’re hiding behind a rock, right?” Matilda elbowed Eric.

“It wasn’t always rocks, Matilda,” Eric defended himself.

Despite their attempts to cajole the knight into the conversation, Tim didn’t join in, that is until eventually Gregory asked the obvious question.

“So what are you folks doing down here? Seems like quite a distance to come just for a holiday. It’s been a long time since we’ve had surface dwellers.” Here he raised his eyebrows “Heck, before ya’ll I don’t think I’d even ever met one.”

Eric and Matilda exchanged a look, both at once trying to muster any sensible reason they were so far from home and why they had blindly followed a hollow suit of armour they had just met into the depths. They didn’t know what Tim’s motives were, what the knight was hoping to achieve, how they even knew about the catacombs.

Not wanting to say all this, Matilda just shrugged her shoulders, “not sure, really.”

Eric followed Matilda’s lead and chuckled, “seemed like a lark.”

“That’s not true.”

Tim’s voice wafted over like a bad smell. The knight patted down the straw softly in their torso and gave a little whistle. With this Socrates scurried over and hopped in, nestling himself comfortably in the knight’s cozy innards.

“They’re here because of me and it’s about time I let them know what I know,” Tim got up and trudged over to the fire before plonking themself down on a boulder closer to the others.

“Or more accurately, what I don’t know. You see, I wasn’t always like…” the knight paused to think before shrugging, and gesturing toward themselves, “well, like this.”

Tim scratched little Socrates under the chin and continued, “the only problem is I can’t remember where it is I came from or who it is that I am.”

“You’re Tim Cognito…” Matilda interrupted slackjawed.

“I am now, but I gave myself that name. I don’t know where I’m from and I don’t know who I was.”

“What’s the first thing you remember?” Eric asked shocked.

“Years ago, I woke up on a beach in a me-shaped hole. An onlooker told me I’d been shot across the water and had landed on their island, from a catapult they’d assumed. When I crossed the water and found a city on a neighbouring land, no one could tell me anything.”

“The closest I got to anything of substance was an account from this old fortune teller who told me my spirit had been pulled from my body and placed inside this armour…”

“I suppose it was helpful - even if I could never find anyone to corroborate it - and it cost me all the money I had for the privilege.”

“I can’t help but question their account, because immediately after they told me my origins, they then said the moment I stopped searching for love I would find it - the problem is, I wasn’t looking for love.”

“Tim, we didn’t know. How awful!” Matilda said covering her mouth and leaning forward from her gelatinous perch.

“Yeah mate, that’s terrible!” Eric had quickly moved over to Tim, and was wrapping his stubby arms around the knight.

“But how did you end up here? What has brought you to the catacombs?” Gregory asked, noticing the missing details with laser, lawyer focus.

“Well, like I said, it’s been years,” they said sitting up straighter, “I moved from town-to-town heading west as if pulled there. I took little jobs here and there; postal worker, door-to-door salesperson, dental hygienist.”

Eric blew his bulbous nose.

“Mainly I stuck to working the fishing fields though, that’s why I smell like fish actually,” the knight said turning to their Spaghettian friends, “some fishmonger I was working for wanted me to marry his daughter. When I said no he had me cursed to reek of fish and still filed the paperwork!”

“You’re married?” Eric cried.

“You’re cursed?” Gregory probed.

“Yes, didn’t you notice the smell?” Tim asked.

“Now now, well yes I did. But southern hospitality being what it is I couldn’t very well say anything,” he concluded.

“You’re probably the first then.” Tim responded before continuing their story. “Anyway, fishing money was drying up. Peasants, wenches and crones alike lined my block demanding I do a quest here or an adventure there,” Tim said this part proudly, “turns out I was pretty good at it, I liberated a hamlet from a crotchety goblin, exterminated the blight corrupting a forest, must have defeated a dozen evil Larpers calling themselves The Dark Lord - which is honestly so unoriginal - and then one day I run into this old wizard and without even knowing anything about me he spoke to me in verse…"

Here Tim adopted their best wisened voice, “suit of armour true and hollow, forgotten yesterday but not tomorrow, for in the weeks and months that follow, head west lest you wish to wallow.”

“Is that it?” Matilda said.

“Yeah but then after a few months of heading west I saw him once more in the desert and this time he said something different: ‘a giant rock linguini filled,‘neath it tunnels have been drilled, amongst the gnomes so strong-willed, an item found your quest fulfilled’”

“An item found your quest fulfilled?” Eric repeated.

Matilda scoffed, “this wizard might be prophetic but his grammar’s pathetic.”

“The tunnels drilled and gnomes strong-willed must be a reference to the gnomes that live down yonder, it’s tricky but you may be able to get to them, they’re just past the city we’re heading to,” Gregory elaborated.

“Is that the last time you saw him?” Eric asked.

“No, I saw him once more just before meeting you two. He said one more thing, but it didn’t make any sense.”

“Go on then,” Matilda pressed.

“Closer now to be found, your name and your background, a scarecrow placed in the ground, and birds collide when skybound,” Tim looked around to see the confused faces of their friends, “yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“I guess it’ll make sense when we find the gnomes,” Matilda said.

“Don’t worry Tim, we’ll work out who you are, it’s quite a conundrum,” Eric added, stroking his goatee.

Your Submission!

Who is this wizened elder? Lost senile septuagenarian in his pyjamas? Master of the art of divination? Lacklustre slam poet?

Comment on this post with a name and general description of who keeps coming forth to prophesise Tim’s future and we’ll add him to The Lore of the Land.

“Don’t worry no one is quite what they seem,” Gregory interrupted. “For instance, I never graduated from university!”

The group collectively gasped.

“I mean, I went and everything but campus life was just too much of a party!” He patted his stomach before adding, “too many packets of mi goreng and bottom shelf booze, well I really made a mess of my final semester.”

“But how did you become a lawyer then?” Matilda asked, sitting slightly further away from the Orc-tornney than she had before.

“Oh, it’s no big deal! Down here anyone can become a lawyer and since the armistice of the Battle of Skip to the Loo it was decreed that orcs be lovers and not fighters, so we’re a pretty trustworthy sort of people,” here he winked at a blushing Matilda. “That’s one of them cattywampus laws I was fetchin’ to tell you about.”

“This place is a total puzzle,” an exasperated Tim spoke.

“Yes, but don’t forget about the other riddle we have on hand currently,” Gregory brought everyone back to the reality of the moment, “if we want to get past that Troll Patrol, we need to think of the answer.”

“We’ve had a long day!” Matilda yawned, as she lay herself on her jelly bed, “surely the answer will come to us overnight.”

Eric followed suit, plopping himself down on his, “good night everyone.”

Tim Cognito, the knight that never slept, listened to the snores of their friends and slipped into a state of fear, worried they were all in danger and it would be entirely the knight’s fault.

Interactive Break

Don’t forget the riddle, we’ve still got one week to work it out:

When I’m sticky you can mould me,

But I am tricky, you can’t control me.

I won’t give a pox and am like phlegm,

Just like a fox but with an M.

We’ll even throw in a hint, instead of thinking of the animal think of how it is commonly described…

Help out your friends and lead them to victory!

What a puzzling history the knight has been keeping to themselves! Amnesiac protagonist is, like, a pretty revolutionary idea in fantasy, right? That’s what I thought!

Stay tuned for the next chapter next week. Voting closes the day before, comment answers are open until we feel like closing them!

Hey there, not much is happening besides the continued roll out of these chapters… hope you’re enjoying them.

Michael did start a new Substack newsletter called Ex/Rec/Acc posting about all kinds of stuff. Michelle might write on their too at some point. At the moment there are a couple of posts up, one recommending films by every director he could find that wore an eyepatch (including the stories of why they needed them) and one about his other newsletter Places I’ve Never Lived and the influences for the stories and buildings he’s drawn there. It’d be cool for you to check it out.

The first piece of interactivity last week was a spin on the wheel to see what contingency we’d use if no one worked out the riddle after this week. Two options tied: Successful Sneak and Give Stinky Stone. I flipped a coin and Successful Sneak won! How we’re going to write that all five members of the party snuck by without being noticed is beyond me… but we’ll work it out.

The number one most popular Catacomb law was that Orcs, by law, are lovers and not fighters. Nice one! Apparently, this also means there was a famous battle at a place called Skip to the Loo there’s a nice piece of world-building.

Finally, there was this three-part epic:

And the results of this you will have noticed manifested in the chapter above. HUZZAH!

If you enjoyed this please do one, some or all of the things below:

Chapter 15.

Michael — Tue, 18 Apr 2023 10:04:14 GMT

«First Chapter | Next Chapter> Last Chapter»

The torches of the tunnel dimmed to a whisper. The three troll heads perched on the podium appeared as an ominous chiaroscuro painting, ebbed with shadow cast by the low, flickering flames.

“Here is your riddle…” Barry’s deep voice intoned.

“When I’m sticky you can mould me,” the shadow-cragged mouth of Theodore continued.

“But I am tricky, you can’t control me,” came the next line from the stern lips of Helen.

“I won’t give a pox and am like phlegm,” now it was Barry’s turn, his mumbling mouth barely moved but the words came out clearly.

“Just like a fox but with an M,” all three heads delivered together.

No sooner had they finished, the torches roared back to life.

Chapter 15: The Troll Toll Loophole Show

If you want to know more about something mentioned in the story (e.g. a creature, place or person) go to the Lore of the Land:

If you want information about our hero’s characteristics and inventory at the start of this chapter go here and scroll to the relevant chapter:

“I thought this was going to be hard,” Tim called, closing their eyes and cocking their helmet with immense confidence. “Just like a fox but with an M? It’s a Mox!”

“What’s a Mox?” Gregory asked curiously.

“I don’t know, but it’s the obvious answer!” the Knight stated stretching their arms out in appeal as the ground began to shake and the tunnel contracted as if about to suck them in.

“Is that your final answer?” Helen asked.

“No!” The entire troop called out, sans Tim, as they knew the knight had no idea what they were talking about.

Interactive Break

Tim didn’t work it out correctly, but can you?

When I’m sticky you can mould me,

But I am tricky, you can’t control me.

I won’t give a pox and am like phlegm,

Just like a fox but with an M.

If you can work out the answer to the riddle to help the team get past the Troll Patrol please comment below and explain your answer.

~~Click here on this link and choose your top three choices.~~

~~If unsuccessful, well then, we’ll rely on what the wheel, in all of its wisdom, proclaims.~~

~~Everyone should…~~

SPIN THE WHEEL

~~Then click which thing you landed on:~~

“Very well,” Barry said ominously, “you must discuss as a team and return your answer to us as soon as possible.”

“Or whenever you can, even tomorrow morning’s fine…” Theodore appealed desperately trying to please, the other two heads flashing him an annoyed look as he spoke, “you know, whatever works for you… we’re flexible.”

Instinctively, the group turned and huddled together. Socrates pulled on Tim’s helmet with both pincers to drag him in.

“Look everyone, these guys are serious, the Department of Tunnels, Funnels, Nooks and Crannies is always cleaning up after them,” Gregory advised.

“Surely this isn’t legal,” Matilda was annoyed, and turned her ire toward their new Orc-Ogre friend, “though you’re the lawyer, so tell me Gregory, what’s being done about this?”

Visibly rattled by Matilda, Gregory grew defensive. “I don’t know, I don’t practice Troll Law and we’ve all just decided to allow it. We call that stare decis.”

“More Orcish?” Tim Queried.

“No, Latin, which was taken from Dwarfish!”

They all looked at him confused except Matilda whose starry eyes conveyed they shared a love of etymology.

“The legal system is a bit of a mess down here, cobbled together from all different groups trying to unite when not all their values align. It’s resulted in some pretty strange laws, all higgledy-piggledy,” He explained.

~~Voting Time~~

~~What crazy law would surprise our heroes the most?~~

“Uh, hey everyone?” Eric was hesitant in his interruption, “I promise it’s not that I’m scared or anything, but I think we should set up camp and think about this in detail.”

“I’m with the coward!” Matilda yawned a gaping maw, “we need to think about this cautiously. Plus, I’m sleepy.”

“I too wouldn’t mind being granted a recess,” Gregory added, winding his pocket watch.

“What about you Tim, do you even sleep?” Eric asked before raising an eyebrow, “there’s so much we don’t know about you.”

Tim spun around, stabbing in the direction of the Troll Patrol with the index finger of their gauntlet.

“Me and the Brain’s Trust here are going to confer about your oh-so-simple riddle!” the knight said with what some may call an extreme fragility to their virility.

“Have it your way,” sneered Helen, “though you did seem certain of your answer.” She began to cackle.

“Yep, we’re sure.” Matilda grabbed Tim before the knight could be goaded into getting the riddle wrong and getting them all killed, or worse, lost in a dark tunnel.

Together, the group paced from one damp, dusky tunnel to the next. Eric stopped regularly to point out interesting rock formations that the rest of the group ignored.

Finding room in the clearing they had passed earlier, they assembled all the dried materials nearby they could muster to make a simple fire. Tim used their magic to provide everyone with a bed of jelly, upon which they lay together, each deep in thought pondering the riddle of foxes, a stickiness, trickiness, poxes and phlegm.

Not one of them had been able to conjure an answer, but perhaps with the benefit of rest and time, they may find the response needed to advance…

~~Voting Time~~

~~Looks like it’s going to be a long night by the fire. I’m sure each member of the group will get talking about one thing or another. But what?~~

~~Gregory Schreck~~

~~Matilda the Maid~~

~~Eric the Butcher~~

~~Tim is going to tell us something about their past and quest (as voted on in~~ ~~Chapter 10~~).

OH NO, A RIDDLE! It finally happened, the party are confronted with the most feared and loathsome element of any fantasy story. Can you help them work it out?

Stay tuned for the next chapter next week. Voting closes the day before (though we may leave the riddle guessing open for an extra week).

We’ve had some new subscribers join the last few weeks, so we must say HUZZAH!

Furthermore, it seems our shorter, more frequent chapters have been a bit of a hit. Another interesting thing to note are the different kinds of interactivity that we’ve been putting out to you. In Chapter 13 we introduced the Wheel (now getting its second outing on this post) and last week we asked people to submit troll pickup lines to see if anything might persuade the troll patrol. This week we’re offering up a riddle in order to gain access past to the tunnel beyond the fearsome brutes.

We have a bit of a story arc coming up that will include some other kinds of interactivity too, so you’ll want to be here for that.

Last week we asked you what the internal conflicts between the three headed troll might be:

There was a two way tie and because they don’t contradict each other they are both still in! The winners were Theodore is obsessed with trains and Barry lost his eye when one of the others flicked a rubber band, better steer clear of these guys on a stationery shop!

We also asked you for some possible pickup lines to sweet talk our way past the patrol. Maybe we’ll have to resort to using some of these if we don’t answer the riddle correctly. We also asked you to roll a D20 to see how effective it was (you can still add more in the comment section for the time being):

-Hey, Troll ya doll. Look at dem dere legs ya got. Love the way you... stand up on em. ;) - Michelle brings some real 30s noir energy and rolling an 8.

-They say three is a crowd, but that's never true with you! - Sath takes the polyamorous route… unfortunately with a 5 on the roll I don’t think we’re getting far in the menage-a-trois.

-Riddle me this: Your place or mine? - current high roller, Geoffrey Golden, with this very formal proposition. Still only a 10 on the roll so it’s a bit of a coin flip at the moment.

If you enjoyed this please do one, some or all of the things below:

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

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Chapter 14.

Michael — Tue, 11 Apr 2023 12:58:16 GMT

«First Chapter | Next Chapter> Last Chapter»

Gregory Schreck led the way through the underground tunnel. Tim clanged along behind, trying their best - and failing - to be polite and not stare at the tiny pair of trombone ears protruding from either side of Gregory’s thick, green neck.

“So naturally, as we’ve never seen the light of day, we’re all somewhat debilitated by the crippling effects of vitamin D deficiencies.” Gregory guffawed.

“Charming,” Matilda sniped.

“How illuminating!” Tim laughed, before being interrupted by a blow to the chest from Eric’s hairy forearm.

“Are you making jokes about light right after he’s confided his granny’s osteoporosis is likely caused by lack of light?” Eric chided Tim in a raspy whisper.

“What? It’s not like he can hear me. His ears are tiny, and shaped like little trumpets. I don’t think they’re even positioned correctly on his head.”

“Oh, I hear you just fine.” Gregory replied. “These little ears serve me well.”

Tim’s jaw swung on its hinge. Eric tut-tutted. Matilda held her breath.

“It’s ok,” Gregory continued, “I’m used to having my differences laid bare. I’m half-ogre, half-orc. I live between two distinct worlds, and neither of them are particularly tact folk.”

Matilda sighed with relief, “Tim isn’t known for their tact either.”

“Speaking of lack of tact,” laughed Gregory, “just round this bend…”

He trailed off in time for the troupe to round a corner. It looked like the corner they had just rounded (and the one before) making it clear Gregory knew these passages well. This time, awaiting them around the bend, a nasty-looking troglobite quickly stopped them in their tracks.

“Visitors from above the surface, may I introduce you to the Troll Patrol!” Gregory’s tone was flat, as though meeting with a triple-headed troll as wide as a truck gripping both a truncheon and a road-sign in each muscular hand was a mundane occurrence here beneath the surface.

“Schreck!” the first head smiled.

“Halt!” boomed the second, as the road sign emblazoned with the word HALT! was thrust forward.

“You know the rules.” reminded the third.

Gregory’s face set with annoyance, “you’re joking.”

“You know the rules Gregory!” The first head nodded.

“It’s time to pay the Troll Toll!” demanded the next.

“Or suffer the consequences!” the last head added, flatly.

Gregory crossed his arms, “I know for a fact I paid the toll to you guys just last week!”

Chapter 14: Paying the Troll Toll

If you want to know more about something mentioned in the story (e.g. a creature, place or person) go to the Lore of the Land:

If you want information about our hero’s characteristics and inventory at the start of this chapter go here and scroll to the relevant chapter:

Tell us your pick-up line and roll!

Tim made a quick assessment. The triple headed beast posed no threat.

“No more talky, Orcy!” Tim pressed their finger to Gregory’s lip to shush him. The knight then flexed their fingers. “I’ll show you how to get past these puny goonies!”. A statement that made no sense as the giant wall of a troll was anything but puny.

Tim took a step toward the Troll Patrol. Coincidentally, a cave-dwelling snail with a conical shell the size of a schnauzer slowly crossed the threshold of the Troll’s path. Without delay the troll whacked the snail with the road sign it wielded. With a comical clang followed by a sickening crunch, the shell was shattered.

“Well that doesn’t seem too bad…” Eric, the most cowardly of the group gulped. Partway through Eric’s statement, the poor snail began to effervesce (frankly - a useless defense mechanism).

“Could be worse?” Matilda’s eyes darted to Tim, who had clearly begun to reassess the situation.

The Troll Patrol raised its other arm, and at its command, the passage they were assembled in contracted and expanded like the muscles of a throat. The walls, adorned with unlit torches, widened and sucked the tiny shelled creature into the complete darkness of the cave’s entrance, and out of sight.

“If you were just going to let him into the cave anyway,” Tim cried, “why smash his shell?”

The Troll Patrol’s three vulgar heads began to laugh. There was another rumble and this time the wind came from the cave’s entrance, like an exhale. The cave then spat from the darkness the shards of the snail’s exoskeleton. They landed at Tim’s feet. Eric shrieked and dove behind a rock.

“It’s no use, force majeure,” said Gregory, resigned.

“You speak French?” Matilda asked.

“Non ma chérie, Orcish. They stole it from us,” he thought before adding, “camembert too.”

“Delicious,” sighed Matilda.

Gregory nodded in reply, then turned to the Troll Patrol and appealed to the middle head, “alright Helen, what’s the price today?”

“Prices have gone up, it’s one hundred gold pieces,” the monobrowed head apparently called Helen replied grumpily.

“Come on, are you trying to pull a fast one? You know I only work pro-bono.”

“Rules is rules,” The eye-patched head on the right said in a whispery growl.

Gregory pulled a wallet from his pocket, opened it and a tiny brown moth flew out, “well Barry, I don’t think we’re getting through then.”

“We’ve got plenty of things to offer instead of money…” Matilda cried. Gregory’s green cheeks flushed pink.

“No bartering, we know our worth,” Barry smiled, “the local patrols have unionised, haven’t we Theodore?”

The first head, meeker than the others, looked down on the group apologetically, “so there’s really no alternative, I’m sorry to say. We’re going to have to go the ghoulish route.”

“That’s right,” Barry sneered, as the Troll Patrol stepped toward the group and its arm raised the truncheon it was holding.

“Well, there is that one thing I suggested…” Theodore said timidly, and as he did the Troll Patrol’s movement halted.

The middle head Helen rolled her eyes, and the Troll Patrol crossed their arm across their chest, “not today, Theodore.”

“Oh, ok then…” Troll Patrol shrugged as Theodore spoke.

“Wait, wait, wait we want to hear it!” Matilda said.

“Helen,” Barry addressed the other head, “we better let Theodore do it, or he’ll be pouting all day.”

Theodore grinned, and Troll Patrol put down its road sign and truncheon before rubbing its hands together with excitement, “you can pay ten gold pieces to answer a riddle!”

“But be warned there are great consequences for getting the wrong answer!” Barry leaned in, and Troll Patrol picked the truncheon back up off the ground.

“W-w-what will h-happen?” Eric wailed from behind his rock, teeth chattering with every syllable.

“Yes, Theodore… what will happen?” Helen sneered, as Troll Patrol collected its road sign.

“Uhh,” Theodore started, as though unprepared, “well, I haven’t thought of that yet. I have, however, thought of everything else!”

Theodore gently placed the truncheon on the ground and snapped the Troll Patrol’s fingers. A bright flame crackled to life at the torch nearest the group. The flame, as though alive, lept from wall to wall lighting each torch in its wake.

“Woah,” marveled Eric, taking a peek from his refuge behind his rock.

Voting Closed

~~There seem to be some internal tensions between the heads of Troll Patrol… why is that:~~

Theodore winked back at him, then tugged the chord beside him that led to the ceiling. A banner swiftly unfurled, glittering and red. A constellation of silver hand-stitched sequins twinkled, forming into the words, TROLL PATROL’S TOLL LOOPHOLE SHOW.

“And now,” Theodore spoke in a gameshow voice as a drumroll sounded from an unseen drum. A panelist’s desk wheeled in from an unknown location, “hold onto your hats, ladies, gents and non-binaries for there’s a vast array of accoutrements on offer as prizes!”

Gregory turned to the group, “Accoutrements, that’s Orcish for fancy things!”

“Qui,” replied Matilda.

Gregory gasped, “you’re such a quick learner,” his gaze lingered on her, eyes sparkling.

Each head of the beast appeared a separate entity as they positioned themselves behind the desk, in perfect alignment with three handpainted question marks.

“Did someone say prizes?” Eric cried, stepping out from behind his rock.

Tim placed their hand on Eric’s shoulder, “we’re a team, he’s the brains and I’m the brawn.”

Eric’s chest swelled with pride.

Helen began to laugh, a low and ominous sound that grew louder, giving way to a cackle.

Eric quickly deflated.

Helen heaved and wiped a tear from her eye, “you are hilarious. The only prize to be won is for us to let you live.”

“Didn’t that head say we could win a vast array of accoutrements?” cried Matilda, waggling an accusatory finger toward Theodore.

“I, uh,” Theodore stammered, “by accoutrements I meant… your survival.”

Matilda swung angrily toward Gregory, “but you said that meant fancy things!”

“Must be a different dialect,” Gregory replied, stunned.

“I bet you’re a laugh riot at parties,” Matilda folded her arms.

Barry, the other head lifted his eye patch to itch his empty socket, and nodded in agreement, “we are. We have this bit-”

“Shut up, Barry,” Helen interrupted.

“Alright, alright, out with it already. Have you people forgot we’re on a quest?” Tim stated impatiently while throwing ten gold pieces at the central podium. Socrates squeaked upon Tim’s shoulder in agreement.

"Okay, then.” The level-headed and principled, Gregory said “We’re ready for your challenge.”

Interactive Break

OH NO! The Troll Patrol are having a go at a loophole game show. Luckily we’ve got a few charmers in our party, maybe we can do a charisma check and see if a troll-focused pick-up line could aid them in their quest.

Suggest a pick up line for a member of the party to use on the Troll Patrol. Then Roll a D20 to see how effective it is.

Roll a D20

FYI, I suggested:

“Slept under any good bridges lately? Or are you looking for something else to support you?” I rolled a 7 which is not appropriate because it should have been a critical failure.

Wow, a three-headed troll ready to risk our heroes’ lives in a game show? What madness is this… oh, that’s right it’s Misadventure Adventure.

Thanks to Prince Smith for coming up with the Troll Patrol, way back when we first asked for critters to put in here. Remember, if you want to be a part of the tale: you can pitch new areas, creatures, characters, and items/spells in the existing threads and see them get added to the Lore of the Land encyclopedia.

Voting closes a week from posting! and then a new chapter will come out that same day! WHATTT???! Read about it below.

The biggest news here is that we’re opting to make Misadventure Adventure a shorter per chapter outing but start posting weekly.

We decided this for a lot of reasons but mainly for engagement, we like the idea of having a quicker pace and higher turnover. This means the animated sections will largely be shorter (like last week) and the amount of interactions will vary much more. We would also like to do things like have a 10 chapter burst and then have a couple of weeks off. We hope readers enjoy this change.

We’re also changing the Statistics and Inventory section to be more useful and fun… stay tuned for that.

Furthermore, we’ve introduced a new section below to see what got decided last week… it is very originally titled Poll Position.

We asked you about Gregory’s relationship to the Ogre Kingdom and it was a three-way tie…

So we rolled a dice and it came up as a 2! This means that Gregory is a seasonal traveller to the Ogre Kingdom to visit his paternal grandparents. Doesn’t seem like he is too keen on it.

Next we found out that the party have little to worry about just yet. Gregory isn’t able to smell the stinky key… which is also an egg. It’ll surely come up eventually though.

Finally on the Wheel’s first outing we have found out that soon Tim will be learning the spell that they are already familiar with: Devouris Eternetum. The very spell that turned Meatball into his namesake.

If you enjoyed this please do one, some or all of the things below:

Chapter 13.

Michael — Tue, 04 Apr 2023 20:02:15 GMT

«First Chapter | Next Chapter> Last Chapter»

“Tim, did you just say Huzzah again?” Matilda asked, as she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter.

“What’s wrong with a little celebratory Huzzah?” Tim pointed their finger aloft in a victory stance, and once again shouted (you guessed it) “Huzzah!”

“Uh… Huzzah…?” Eric said quietly, as though posing a question.

“That’s right, Eric. Huzzah!” Tim nodded, their helmet squeaking with each dip, “now into the catacombs!”

“Huzzah!” laughed Matilda.

Chapter 13: Into the Depths

If you want to know more about something mentioned in the story (e.g. a creature, place or person) go to the Lore of the Land:

If you want information about our hero’s characteristics and inventory at the start of this chapter go here and scroll to the relevant chapter:

As they delved deeper into the tunnel, Socrates the huntscrabby perched himself on Tim’s helmet and waggled his little crustacean behind. The friction caused his little carapace body to illuminate, lighting the way for the adventurers.

After much squelching and traversing through the stinking spaghetti, the troupe reached the bottom of Meatball’s tunnel.

Before them lay Councillor Meatball, panting from effort and distended with carbs. He groaned, his voice barely a whisper.

“If it wasn’t for you dastardly kids!” he said with great effort.

“You’d what?” demanded Matilda.

“Well, I’d still be mincing meat for the dreaded one,” Eric shook his head glumly, “such a waste of prime cuts.”

Meatball retched.

“Don’t stew on it,” said Tim.

“Quip all you want, Tim Cognito, but I know you’re hiding something,” Meatball huffed and puffed before continuing, “why don’t you tell your new friends why you’re going down to the catacombs?”

“Tim doesn’t need to tell us anything!” Matilda interjected.

“Yeah, they’re our friend. We trust them!” Eric hesitated, and looked toward Matilda, “we do, don’t we?”

Meatball laughed, mad as a cap with glinting eyes, he continued his diatribe from his red, meaty face.

“Go on, tell them. Tell them all about the Meatball family fortune and how it’s hidden in the caverns. And don’t you think for a second it’s going to be a walk in the park down there. Danger, disaster and disease follow all who enter…”

The sweaty Councillor nattered on, unaware that his audience had already taken their leave until he looked up to see Tim, Eric and Matilda were nowhere to be seen.

“Come back,” he whimpered “I’m so lonely.”

***

“I can’t believe we used to listen to him all the time,” Eric shook his head.

“I even paid to see his one-man show at the Cabonara Carnavale one year,” Matilda confessed, shuddering as she spoke.

Tim was uncharacteristically stern. Socrates, the glowing huntscrabby, ducked inside Tim’s armour.

Could Tim really be up to no good? Matilda pondered, a trace of doubt creeping into her thoughts. She shook her head. No. They saved our lives. What Meatball is saying can’t be possible…

I’m one step closer, Tim thought, only a little deeper, just a little farther…

I can’t believe I’ve been making meatballs my whole life for nothing, was Eric’s only thought.

Without warning, the path they were traversing gave way to a steep decline. Eric was the first to slip. He grabbed onto Matilda’s leg, dragging her down with him. They quickly vanished from Tim’s view, though they could still hear the pair’s screams as they descended into the dark. The knight jumped to action, reaching down the throat of their helmet to retrieve a hessian sack. They placed it onto the precipice and then hopped atop.

“Hold on Socrates!” Tim hollered, before launching themselves down the slippery slide.

“Weeeeee!” down the knight went, occasionally bouncing off the rocky edges of the walls. The walls of the tunnel were beginning to widen as they descended, faster and faster. Tim was sure they were about to reach terminal velocity. They calculated that at this speed and depth, they’d all be liquified when they finally hit the proverbial and literal ‘rock bottom’.

An eerie silence took over. Tim no longer knew if they were moving at all. Their armour was no longer making contact with the slide, the hessian sack was long gone. Socrates’ golden glow was joined by a blue shimmer, emanating from a school of bioluminescent jellyfish. They floated beside Tim gracefully in the cavern, their tops billowing and muscular.

“Woah!” came Matilda’s voice from beside Tim.

Tim had caught up. They turned to see Eric, whose face was frozen in a scream without emitting a single sound.

“Are we floating or are we still falling?” Matilda asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” Tim answered.

The knight reached out and grabbed onto Eric and Matilda’s collars, bringing the group together as they landed in a slick of slime.

Oh no, we’ve liquified, Tim thought.

“Yuck!” yelled Matilda.

“Wait, we’re alive?” asked Tim, all at once realising the force of the fall was what had now sprung them up and out of the jellyfish top that had caught them, and up into the air.

The trio bounced from jellyfish to glowing jellyfish, their blue light flickered and dimmed with each collision. Eventually, they neared the bottom of the cave. Like a multi-ball in a pinball machine, richotetching off the jellyfish pop bumpers, they bounced off the lowest jellyfish, cresting the arc of their jump. They were now en route to the drain.

“Here we go!” Matilda called out, somewhere between excited and terrified.

“I can’t look!” Eric cried.

Without touching the sides, all three went through the hole the floor of the cave narrowed into and continued their descent, rolling down a gentle slope until they hit the ground.

Interactive Break Closed

~~Here’s a new fun experience, it’s time to SPIN THE WHEEL!~~

~~Tim’s great crush Kackel didn’t join them on their quest~~ ~~but~~ ~~through the magic of correspondence and chintzy crystals, The knight can contact her when they need help.~~

~~Part of this correspondence will be learning a new spell.~~

~~The wheel will allow us to randomly select a spell from the Lore of the Land, that hasn’t yet been chosen. So it is time to:~~

~~Devouris Eternetum -~~ ~~A classic Misadventure spell by now… iconic.~~
~~Discombobulating Disbowelment -~~ ~~Yep, hope you’re not attached to your pancreas.~~
~~Kickasp -~~ ~~Nearby snakes dance around you as if you were Barry White in that Simpsons episode… what a group of toothy bodyguards.~~
~~Spice UP -~~ ~~Enchant your cooking and become the first Iron Chef Catacombs.~~
~~Dustevious Asthmatica -~~ ~~Coats everything in dust… sometimes it takes years to do this naturally.~~
~~Splash -~~ ~~It’s super effective.~~

The darkness was hard to parse.

“A little help, Socrates?” Tim asked.

Socrates squeaked in agreement, and stuck his behind like a match against the inside of Tim’s helmet, rendering Tim a metallic jack-o-lantern.

The crew slowly felt their eyes begin to adjust to see the walkway around them and take in the walls around them which were encrusted with thousands of iridescent gemstones.

The trio stood in silence, enamoured with their surroundings. So much so, they’d not noticed a fourth had quietly joined their ranks.

“Excuse me,” a quiet voice gently requested “if it doesn’t bother you, would you mind letting me pass?”

Tim immediately sprang to, and held their arms in fisticuffs, “who said that? What hidden threat is looming? Be you poltergeist? Ghost? Demon or wee beastie?”

“None of those actually, I’m just a simple small-town father trying to do what’s right in the world,” the kindly southern twang, like cakes on the griddle, put the group at ease.

Tim lowered their fists, and took in the sight of their new acquaintance, who stood close to seven feet tall.

He dusted off his trendy, but practical, three-piece suit, from which he pulled a tidily engraved silver pocket watch, and inspected it for damage before he wound it and put it away.

Tim, who had met a wide variety of beings on their travels, noted each feature of the creature to breach.

“You’re an ogre!” The knight exclaimed, before shaking their head in disbelief, “or are you an orc?”

“What gave it away, the green skin? The horns? The big, crooked bicuspids?” Gregory chuckled kindly, pointing to the bottom row of his teeth which were in need of dental care. “Good eye though, my mama was an orc. I guess that makes me a little of each, probably helps my ability to see both sides of a conflict.”

"That’s a first for me!” Tim exclaimed, swinging their arms like a golfer, “we weren’t expecting to see anyone down here during our quest, let alone a dapper ogre-orc.”

Tim extended their gauntlet for a handshake, “I’m Tim Cognito and this is Eric and Matilda. We’re on a quest.”

“Pleased to meet you Tim Cognito,” the ogre took Tim’s hand, gave a gentle smile and calmly continued, “my name is Gregory Schreck and I’m also on a quest.”

“It’s so trendy to be on a quest these days,” Tim said crossing their arms, “what is it for you? Crop blight affecting your town and you’re on the search for the magic cure? Legendary weapon to smite a ghastly villain? Need to destroy some arcane, cursed object in a hellfire?”

“Tim!” Matilda interrupted, embarrassed by the Knight’s rudeness “you don’t have an exclusivity contract with quests, you know?”

The knight huffed defensively.

“Well, actually, none of those,” Gregory politely replied, “I’m on a quest for justice, legal justice.“

He raised his briefcase and pointed to it.

“I’m actually working on a case right now, mediation between the inhabitants of two cities up ahead. One of the two is taking a class action suit against the other. It’s a bit of a mess, especially when you’ve got a couple of ogre children you’re trying to raise on your own at home and shield them from the world's evils.”

All three of the party were slack-jawed, Tim’s mouth plate almost came unhinged. It hadn’t occurred to them that there may actually be entire civilisations down here.

“But surely you know all about this, you can’t live far from here.” The Orc-attorney at law questioned.

Eric just pointed upwards and with this Gregory Schreck looked genuinely shocked, his eyes widened.

”Well Jimmy crack corn as I live and breathe, Surface Dwellers, well you’ll have to tell me all about it. Regail me as you come and visit the cities with me,” he stopped himself out of courtesy, “that is unless you have somewhere else to be.”

The party exchanged glances. Socrates popped out from Tim’s helmet to nod his little head. They all silently agreed to follow the fatherly patri-orc.

“Great,” Gregory said as they started to walk along with him, “now tell me, is the Sun really as bright as they say it is?”

Voting Closed

New readers may have forgotten but in the last chapter, Tim was gifted a stinky gem that is both an ogre repellent and also the key to the ogre kingdom. So far Gregory doesn’t seem to have noticed HOWEVER when he notices it might cause some sort of fuss.

~~How will this eventuate:~~

~~He won’t notice until the gem/key is revealed… this will cause him to vomit.~~
~~Over time he will get increasingly annoyed at the crew for their pungency, eventually complaining forcefully enough for them to notice.~~
~~He can definitely smell it but as he is such a principled lawyer he won’t mention it until 100% necessary.~~
~~Gregory’s Orc half prevents him from smelling it but he’ll definitely recognise it when he sees it.~~

~~What is Gregory’s relationship with the Ogre Kingdom?~~

~~Ogres are fierce supremacists and have banned his father’s lineage for their Orc blood.~~
~~He visits there for a weekend each summer to see his paternal grandparents… and that’s enough.~~
~~The Ogre Kingdom has been inaccessible to outsiders for generations. Only a rough location is known to non-residents. Maybe the key could point the way?~~
~~He lives there in a duplex, rent is absurd though.~~

Who would have thought we’d meet such a dapper individual down here? Well, YOU SHOULD HAVE because you voted for Gregory Schreck to be the first character our troupe should meet in the Catacombs.

Voting closes a week from posting! The next edition will follow about a week after that… with luck!

What do you think of our wheel?

I’m pretty happy to have introduced a bit of randomisation to the process, however, when I set it up I thought it would track the data of who has spun so far. Unfortunately for the time being we need people to click on the poll button of what they land on to keep our data in line. I’m pretty sure anyone who reads Misadventure Adventure is an honest sort though. We’ll be using the wheel semi-regularly for the time being so get ready to SPIN!

Hope everyone is happy to see us back. Come chat in the comments.

If you enjoyed this please do one, some or all of the things below:

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Create a Creature

Michael — Sun, 02 Apr 2023 11:35:21 GMT

Hey You, Yeah YOU!

Have you got a god complex? Well we want you to bring some real sixth day energy and create some damned animals.

The return of Misadventure Adventure is imminent (set your watches for Wednesday) and we thought it was about time for a good old Lore of the Land hoedown.

For new subscribers this is where you have the opportunity to comment with a description of an animal, mineral or vegetable to be added to the Lore of the Land. Don’t forget to add in some idiosyncratic details… or we’ll do it for you. So comment down below with your wee beasties and prepare to meet them in a coming chapter. HUZZAH!

Previously on Misadventure Adventure

Michael — Sat, 17 Dec 2022 07:16:18 GMT

Note: This section depicted in the above video

HARK! Misadventure Adventure: the tale of Tim Cognito the non-binary animate body of armour and their mysterious, action-packed quest.

We first meet Tim at the Great Spaghetti Bowl. The knight had travelled through the vast realms to reach the remote village, high up in the mountains. From where and for what, we still don’t know.

Tim formed a camaraderie with a lowly pair of Spaghettian townspeople, Matilda the basil farmer, and Eric the butcher. The pair serve as guides, accompanying Tim to the democratically elected Spaghettian Council. This is where Tim first comes across the sweaty, secretive Councillor Meatball.

What timing! It just happens to be the day of the great sacrifice. The townspeople toil away, laboriously filling the enormous bowl with spaghetti; an offering to the great beast with rickety political ideology, the Jabberwonky.

What luck! Tim is then in possession of a fancy pair of eyewear that just happen to be the magical Dagger Eyes! Tim and his new pals, Eric and Matilda, seek out the only necromancer in town, Lady Kackel, for her magical knowledge.

Kackel takes Tim to raise the corpse of an ancient leader of the village while Eric and Matilda stage a defence against the Jabberwonky. Misery, the happiest fairy, is saved from centuries in a bottle and joins the gang. Tim adopts a pet huntscrabby named Socrates.

Through a series of events the troupe discover Meatball’s secret! He is the ancestor of Michelangelo Meatball, the first in the dynasty with control over the Jabberwonky. By implanting a magical ruby into the beast’s head, the family had used the Wonky One’s terrorism of the town to enslave the townspeople. What jerks!

During the battle, Matilda scales the Jabberwonky and becomes acquainted with the Librarian living upon his back, Drew E. Decimelle. She discovers that the beast was once a mobile library for the Absorbed Realms.

Kackel and Misery use their magical wiles on Meatball to obtain a spell to free the Jabberwonky. Meatball taints Kackel’s crush on Tim, when he reveals the knight knows of the existence of the lost Catacombs down beneath the bowl.

Tim takes on the Jabberwonky, who explodes and turns into a duck. They freeze the Jabberducky in place with the magical Dagger Eyes while Matilda, cycling through animal languages until she speaks in fluent duck and quacks the spell. The ruby is shattered into a thousand pieces.

The Spaghettians are left to rebuild their village. The Jabberwonky resumes his mobile library service. Misery returns to Fae Forest. They catapult Meatball into the Great Spaghetti Bowl, where he is hexed into consuming pasta passed its use-by date. Kackel puts an end to their fledging “will they won’t they” and refuses to join the knight on their quest.

Eric, Matilda and Socrates follow Tim into the catacombs. Stay tuned, we re-join them next time to plunge into the depths. HUZZAH!

But not really… here we will analyse some of the votes, choices and changes that have been made through the readers’ input thus far. Ready to rejoin the adventure in the new year. You’ll see ☑ and ☒ depending on if the choices have been implemented yet.

Pre-Chapter 1 Choices

Starting Location

It was decided from ten choices that we would start at the Spaghetti Bowl… a suggestion we put in there as a bit of a joke. We definitely weren’t expecting it to be chosen. ☑

Main Character

We put up three characters as suggestions and Tim was the clear frontrunner. We now have no idea what this story would have looked like with the others. ☑

Chapter 1

All the way back in Chapter One we voted on three things:

The reason Tim smells like fish was decided to be because they were cursed eons ago for refusing the hand of a fishmonger’s daughter. This hasn’t had any real plot significance but it did change the name of the book to Far From the Fishing Fields… who knows if it’ll stay that way though.☑

We voted on what Tim plucked off of a noticeboard which directly lead to the introduction of Lady Kackel if Tim had chosen any other item from that board the story would have definitely unfolded differently. You betcha.☑

Finally we voted on why Tim has come to the Spaghetti Bowl and the answer was to procure a magical item… this hasn’t come to fruition yet. However, it has since been revealed that Tim knew of the existence of the catacombs… perhaps that item is there? In fact this was chosen in Chapter 8 ☑

Chapter 2

This chapter introduced the council and brought with it some questions about Counsellor Meatball’s conduct:

It was decided that Counsellor Meatball was a leader under pressure with something to hide. This eventually manifested in the fact that Meatball belonged to a long dynasty of corrupt politicians controlling the Jabberwonky from afar to keep the town in check.☑

Speaking of the Jabberwonky, in this chapter we asked for suggestions of who the beast could be Geoffery Golden suggested this politically dodgy beast. The selection of this character directly influenced the flow of the story… introducing many political puns that I’m sure no one wanted. ☑

We asked what tactic Tim should take and the choice was that the knight should sneak beneath the pasta to see what was hidden there. Tim suggests this to the council immediately in the next chapter but it is not until Lady Kackel escorts them there that this came to fruition, many revelations were found upon their arrival. ☑

Chapter 3

Chapter 3 was the introduction of the Wonky One and Lady Kackel, an exciting and memorable series of events:

Firstly, we asked for you (rather early in the piece really) to decide Tim’s future with their Spaghettian Companions Eric and Matilda. Overwhelmingly you told us that you wanted the two to go adventuring with the knight in the future. Something we’ve introduced in the most recent chapter. ☑

The next choice was the one we felt in the end had no bearing on the story even though we paid lip-service too. We asked who was hiding with the huddled Spaghettian masses and you chose a human-sized dog with a dog-sized human on a leash. We said that Tim and Kackel saw this individual through the window of the townhall in the next chapter and that Kackel magically swapped them around but ultimately it didn’t have any bearing on the story… sorry. ☑ (maybe this character will come back…?)

Finally, we asked you what Tim should do to get Kackel on their side and you decided to have us enlist her into the party. Something that definitely had continued ramifications in the story. ☑

It should also be noted that the character of Lady Kackel was submitted by one of our readers, Tass, the pitch was hilarious. A powerful necromancer who raises the dead… only to have them laugh in her face. ☑

Chapter 4

Chapter four saw the team splitting up for the first time, leading to some interesting results:

We asked what Eric and Matilda’s battleplan should be and you told us (in a tie) that they should dig a hole that the Jabberwonky could fall into and to climb up on his back. Both of which happened in the coming chapters. ☑

We asked for spell suggestions and got a bunch, the immediate winner was Devouris Eternetum also given to us by Tass, which was used a coupl’a chapters down the road. ☑

We met the new huntscrabby and all agreed that he has the handy skill of just next level boogyin’ now this has been mentioned but sadly never seen as Tim and the huntscrabby arrived too late for the boogying in a later chapter. ☒

Chapter 5

This chapter was the beginning of the grand battle and so we decided to have votes based on each individual character or sets of characters which shaped the next few chapters of the story:

It was decided that Tim and the Huntscrabby were told to rough up Meatball and the Jabberwonky and hand out some poetic justice this happened, especially because Meatball ended up having to eat the rancid spaghetti of his own creation. ☑

The magical party members, Kackel and Misery were to take on Meatball together they did this and used their magical skills to stun and steal the needed scroll from him. ☑

Eric, the cowardly butcher, had to lead a digging team and get Tim to fill the hole with jelly, this happened very quickly with help from the Wingardium Gelatinousa spell. ☑

The plucky basil farmer, Matilda, was given the role of orator. Reading a book aloud to the Jabberwonky to confuse him, this definitely took place for a couple of chapters where Jabby was forced to endure a little too much of a bestseller. ☑

Chapter 6

Chapter Six was when we started to see the shape of how the battle would take place, which made it harder to introduce new ideas. However there were a couple of good choices we got to make together:

We voted on how Misery and Kackel should confront Meatball, it was decided that they would hex him and steal the scroll which occurred in Chapter 8. ☑

We then got to decide from a bunch of punny book titles and Beat, Slay, Trudge was selected. Let it be known that if 100 Years of Amplitude had been chosen we would have definitely written an original song for Matilda to perform. ☑

Chapter 7

Had the extrodinarily slow talking Drew E. Decimelle in it but hopefully we still excited you with the events contained within:

We asked what part of Beat, Slay, Trudge should be read to confuse the beast (this was just an excuse to take plot points from the Wikipedia page of Eat, Pray, Love and make them more barbarian-focused), it was decided that we would focus on Gorkorn’s life post becoming a widower. This was a lot of fun to write in the next chapter but ultimately didn’t really affect the story. ☑

After Tim’s harpoon was knocked away quite a distance, we asked how he should proceed in the battle. You chose for the knight to go and fetch it… which if I’m being honest was probably the most boring option. ☑

It was also decided that Kackel and Misery would tie up meatball and tickle-torture him for more information, this directly lead to the revelation that Tim knew more than they were letting on and let to Kackel’s sense of betrayal. ☑

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight was the height of strange choices:

We asked what should happen as a result of the Wonky One eating the spell jelly and in a two-way tie you decided he should ‘explode again’ and ‘turn into a giant duck’, a good example of how this format can lead to strange and unexpected results. ☑

In another tie we found out that Jabby’s secret passion is both dancing and avoiding becoming like his parents. Both of these soon factored into a minor crisis on the beast’s part. ☑

It was decided that the magical item that Tim is looking for is the Cupid’s Scarecrow the magical item that makes birds fall in love. Why would Tim want it, that hasn’t been revealed yet. ☒

Chapter 9

This chapter saw long passages from Beat, Slay, Trudge, the reveal of the glowing ruby controlling the Jabberwonky and the Huntscrabby’s unfortunate absence during a dance party:

We asked if Kackel would join the party on their future quest but it was decided by you (to my sadness) that she felt too betrayed by Tim to join them yet. It was decided that she will keep in contact though. ☑

We also decided that the villagers would give Tim a mysterious and funny-smelling gem as a reward for saving them. ☑

Chapter 10

Chapter Ten was deep in the throes of battle, now fighting a giant duck a few important decisions were made for the future of our story:

It was decided that Tim will reveal what the big mystery behind their quest is next time the party get a proper rest… it’ll make a great campfire tale. This hasn’t happened yet but it should be coming soon. ☒

Tim is going to make a little home for the huntscrabby in the depths of their armour, this is of little consequence but it is pretty darn cute. ☒

Finally, we decided which character from the Lore of the Land would be met in the Catacombs. We voted mainly for Gregory Shreck ogre and attorney extraordinaire. I can’t wait to meet this guy. ☒

We also acknowledged here, upon their destruction, the Dagger Eyes which were submitted to us by Prince Smith. ☑

Chapter 11

This chapter had Matilda talking to the duck, the destruction of the cursed ruby and a heartfelt discussion between Kackel and Tim as she reassembled their armour:

It was decided that Matilda would have some residual magic from her animal speaking hex, akin to a tourist with a guidebook. This will be an ongoing element of the story that we’ve only alluded to once with Matilda learning the huntscrabby’s name is Socrates (thanks Sath for the name). ☑

Because it was decided that Kackel would not be joining the others on their quest, we decided whatshe would be doing in her absence. It was chosen that she would track down her former correspondence magic instructor Sir Seroar and demand to finish her training. How assertive. ☒

Chapter 12

In this last chapter of the Spaghetti Saga there are so-longs, farewells and goodbyes:

It was tied that the gem Kackel gave Tim to communicate with her will both work perfectly and have a downfall in that the gnomes who deliver the messages have unionised and charge excess data fees. Are these contradictory? Who knows. ☒

Finally, the other gem that was given (apparently we’re a little gem mad) is actually the key to the Ogre Kingdom but its smell is also an ogre repellent. We’ll see how Gregory Shreck likes that. ☒

Well that’s all for now, we’ll make good on those choices that are still hanging over us and bring you a new chapter in the new year.

Don’t forget: if you want to be a part of the tale: remember you can pitch new areas, creatures, characters, and items/spells in the existing threads and see them get added to the Lore of the Land encyclopedia.

Thanks for a great first year of Misadventure Adventure. We’re not lying when we say our lives have gotten absolutely out of control the last few months (so sorry about the lack of updates) but let it be known WE’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE! In fact, we’ve got a few interesting extras to add to the stew next year in the form of side-quests.

Tell your friends. Keep reading. Keep Suggesting things for us to do. And keep Misadventuring.

If you enjoyed this please do one, some or all of the things below:

Chapter 12.

Michael — Fri, 21 Oct 2022 07:00:54 GMT

«First Chapter | Next Chapter> Last Chapter»

Tim and Kackel walked through the decimated landscape of the Spaghettian village. The remaining residents had emerged from their hiding places and were listening to the Jabberwonky’s tragic tale of woe, which found its start many centuries ago when Meatball’s ancestor cast the spell upon the Jabberwonky, inserting the ruby of mind control into their scalp.

“… and, another thing, I don’t even like trilbies!” insisted the sobbing monster, ashamed they’d been made to don such a ridiculous hat.

When the tale had been passed on in full there was nary an unsympathetic ear left in the crowd. Save for the man whose tears were for his son - while he knew the actions of the Jabberwonky not to be of his own choice - he couldn’t scrub the memory of the beast smacking his lips with delight before imbibing his boy wholly in one gulp.

“What will you do now that you’re finally free?” Matilda queried.

Here the creature launched himself back to his feet. The Jabberwonky had retained his flamboyant nature, yet now held himself with more self-assurance, proving ever more his actions were now wholly his own.

“I need to put this all behind me. All the terrible things…” he trailed off, tears rimming his eyes momentarily before taking the stance of a Shakespearean actor having a great epiphany onstage.

With his hand pointed above his head, he declared with newfound enthusiasm, “I know! I’ll return to my calling as the Mobile Library of the Absorbed Realms.”

“What? Why?” a confused Eric asked.

“There’s sure to be hundreds of late fees to gather up, we’re talking centuries here!”

A Spaghettian in the crowd hid a dusty, old volume behind their back. Everyone else burst into applause, happy for the civil service to be restored to their township.

Chapter 12: Don’t You Spaghett About Me

If you want to know more about something mentioned in the story (e.g. a creature, place or person) go to the Lore of the Land:

If you want information about our hero’s characteristics and inventory at the start of this chapter go here and scroll to the relevant chapter:

The applause gave way to murmurs, as the villagers parted to let through a burly group of Spaghettians manhandling a red-faced Meatball to the front of the crowd. He was still tied up, sitting in the chair Kackel had roped him to.

“Release me you brutes!” he cried, “I’m your leader, fair and square!”

The Spaghettians booed and hissed, the Jabberwonky recoiled, for he recognised the family resemblance to his initial oppressor, Michelangelo Meatball.

“What should we do with him?” the tallest burly Spaghettian asked Tim, snarling.

“Well, in Farkaroola they bring dissidents in front of everyone in a town square,” Tim began, glancing around, “not unlike this one. And they have this big axe you see…”

“Tim, remember what we said when you first got here?” Matilda interrupted.

“Yeah, yeah I get it, I smell like fish!” The knight continued perturbed, “you know hearing it all the time isn’t great for my self-esteem… now grab me an axe.”

“NO! Not that,” she continued, “we made it clear that we live under a democratically elected municipality.”

“So?” the knight crossed their arms. impatiently, which they could do because there was still no axe in either hand.

“We’re a humane and progressive society you knight-compoop,” Kackel laughed.

“What they’re trying to say,” said the ever-polite Eric, “is we don’t believe in the death penalty.”

“Outlawed it eons ago,” added Misery, who had been around for eons herself.

“Pfff, well what would you do then?” Tim asked.

The gaggle of Spaghettians assumed various thoughtful poses; some stroked their beards whether they had one or not, and others itched their temples as though excavating their brain for a suitable retributive act to fit the crime.

“I’ve got an idea,” Lady Kackel had a great smirk on her face, “Jabby, do you mind throwing our illustrious leader over yonder!”

She gestured toward the Spaghetti Bowl, which was no longer fit for feasting. A crack ran down the side with what by now must be, slightly-off pasta spilling out like intestines.

“With pleasure.”

The Jabberwonky saluted Kackel, stooped toward Meatball and scooped his foe into a mighty throw. The force of the hurl made Meatball’s restraints from his chair unfurl, and Kackel let loose a spell in the direction of the airborne Meatball.

“Devouris Eternetum!” the silvery blue streams of magic extended high into the sky, hitting Meatball square in the gut, which instantly began to rumble ferociously in response.

Tim and Misery patted Kackel on the back.

“Nice job, girl. You only heard that spell once and incanted it perfectly!” Misery fluttered, “and with that, I’m off home.”

She quickly buzzed over to the flattened and blackened remains of the fae’s Dagger Eyes, “This’ll take some explaining.”

Kackel nodded solemnly, “It’s been a very long time since you’ve been with your people. We will miss you here, you’ve taught me so very much. How could I ever thank you Misery?”

“Thank me?” Misery said shocked, “if it weren’t for you two I’d still be stuck in that bottle.”

“Either way, the village would be ruined if it weren’t for you!” Tim said.

“If it weren’t for us,” Misery corrected, already fluttering away, barely still in view she called out, “come visit me in Fae Forest sometime!”

Tim nodded and waved. They knew this wasn’t the last they’d be seeing of Misery. The knight turned to Eric, Matilda and Kackel.

“I’m impressed, Meatball’s finally going to have a mouthful of his own making!”

“Not only that, he’s going to chew you a path to the entrance of the catacombs,” Kackel raised an eyebrow and gave a wry smile.

“Me? Don’t you mean he’ll carve a path for us?”

Kackel slowly shook her head, unable to make eye contact with Tim.

“You mean, you’re not coming?” Tim said, before letting their guard down (which is hard for someone made entirely of armour)

“I… I need you!”

“You don’t need me. I’m just a half-baked necromancer. I’ve only just recently begun performing simple spells successfully.”

“But you’re part of the gang, aren’t you?” Eric fixed his eyes on his shoes, doing his best not to cry.

“Yes, don’t leave me with these fools,” Matilda gestured to Tim and Eric with each of her thumbs.

Kackel met Tim’s eyes, “I don’t expect you to tell me everything but you weren’t honest with me.”

She cast her eyes over the ruins of her village and added, “plus, I’m needed here.”

“Can we meet again sometime?” Tim asked.

“Sooner than you think,” Kackel nodded. She lifted a pendant over her head from her own neck and placed it in the Knight’s palm. The heavy crystal clinked against their armour.

“What’s this?” they asked.

“You’ll find out when you need to, you big galoot!”

Kackel lent in toward Tim, who responded by closing their eyes in anticipation of the kiss that was surely to come.

“Goodbye, Socrates. There’s always a place for you in my lair.”

Kackel planted a kiss on the Huntscrabby’s tiny head before turning on her heel and marching away.

Socrates waved his goodbye with an outstretched claw.

***

Voting Closed

Tim, Eric and Matilda (with Socrates stowed away in Tim’s armour) scaled the side of the Spaghetti Bowl, ready to see what the tunnelling consumption of Meatball revealed.

When the group reached the cracked rim of the bowl, they paused.

“We’re sorry there wasn’t much of a ceremony for you,” Eric said.

Tim guffawed, “You don’t need-”

“There’s not much of a town left to have hosted any pomp or ceremony anyway!” Matilda interrupted.

“Either way, the community wanted to give you this,” Eric held up his hands revealing a large gem, so large it spanned across the full width of Eric’s cupped hands.

“Wow, thanks but why… this?” Tim asked.

“I don’t know, I’m not really in the business of questioning gifts of gratitude I receive,” Matilda shrugged.

“Fair,” Tim replied as they caught a whiff of the offensive scent permeating from the gem, “but again, you really shouldn’t have.”

The knight quickly stuffed the stinky gem into one of the many openings of their torso armour, “well I look forward to finding out what that does. That’s the second gem I’ve been gifted today.”

Tim held up the pendant they had received from Kackel, which they wore around their neck.

“Well, it was the only store in town that Jabby didn’t fully destroy,” replied Matilda.

They all looked down at the spaghetti, which was now as appetising as leftovers you discover at the back of your fridge (that you can’t remember preparing.)

A hollow tunnel had been chomped out by Meatball, who had been devouring rancid spaghetti, like his life depended on it (Kackel’s spell ensured it did if he ceased eating he’d likely perish.)

“You know, I’m going to miss you guys,” Tim sombrely addressed the two villagers he’d grown rather fond of.

Socrates poked his head out for the farewell, “squeak.”

“Thanks, Socrates, of course, we make great companions,” laughed Matilda, who was slightly startled she could still understand the little fella.

“Why are you squeaking?” Eric asked Matilda, who blushed.

“I was not squeaking. Plus, Tim Cognito,” she jabbed a finger into their breastplate, “we didn’t climb up here for nothing!”

Eric gulped, “I thought we were just bringing Tim to the entrance.”

“Nonsense!” Matilda was now jabbing Eric in the chest.

“Ouch! That’s my soft bit, I have a fragile solar plexis!” Eric yelped.

She rolled her eyes, “I mean, for what possible reason would the town need yet another basil farmer and butcher when we don’t need to make the pasta anymore?”

Eric’s mouth was agape as he involuntarily began to move his head from side to side, a silent scream of, “no!”

“To tell the truth, there’s going to be such a glut of people with skills like ours that if we don’t go with you we’ll have to reskill,” Matilda went on.

“Re-enter tertiary education?” Eric was shrill.

“As mature-aged students,” sneered Matilda, waggling her fingers at Eric menacingly.

Eric shuddered, “yes, ok, adventuring seems way more fun than going back to school! Um, if you’ll have us, Tim?”

If Tim could smile they would have (for they had no mouth), so instead, the knight nodded their head, pleased to no longer be a lone weary traveller but a troupe leader, no matter how odd a group.

Tim nodded at the plump little butcher, prone to fearful outbursts. Then winked at the whip-smart former horticulturist who they could count on to keep the group in line. And finally, Tim looked upon Socrates, the strange little spider-crab… thing.

Together, they were about to embark into an unknown and uncertain future.

“Huzzah!”

Voting Time

And so endeth the Spaghetti Saga but there are plenty more exciting adventures… and misadventures to be had in the future. So keep on reading.

And if you want to be a part of the tale: remember you can pitch new areas, creatures, characters, and items/spells in the existing threads and see them get added to the Lore of the Land encyclopedia.

Voting closes a week from posting! The next edition will follow about a week after that… with luck!

Don’t forget! Next time we will be posting a recap post for our next chapter that truncates the story so far. A quick explainer of what has happened for the new readers. We will also be looking out how your votes have affected the way the story has proceed, getting our toes wet in the data thus far.

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Chapter 11.

Michael — Thu, 06 Oct 2022 08:13:21 GMT

«First Chapter | Next Chapter> Last Chapter»

“This is all my fault!” the incorporeal knight, Tim Cognito’s voice echoed around their helmet as they held their harpoon aloft, taking aim at the glowing red ruby embedded in the noggin of the Jabberducky.

The giant duck quacked menacingly as it tried to shake Tim from atop his head. The Jabberducky - a former political tyrant known as the Jabberwonky - was bent on destroying everything in his path.

“This probably isn’t the right time to say this,” Eric, Tim’s companion, cried as he pulled Matilda out of the direct path of the continuing pecks of the fowl’s foul plow.

“I’ll say it for you,” yelled Matilda, “but YES this IS all your fault.”

Tim clutched onto the feathers tighter and cried, “there must be a way to fix this!”

“There is!” a familiar voice coughed out from below, “if you buy me some time.”

Could it be? Tim could scarcely believe it, but they knew the voice belonged to Lady Kackel, the local necromancer. She’d been incapacitated from the harbinger explosion when the Jabberwonky transformed into the giant duck.

The knight became giddy, almost nauseated as though a creature fluttered in their stomach (separate to the scampering of the huntscrabby who was hiding within Tim’s armour).

“Kackel!” Tim attempted to stow away the true nature of their excitement, all the while gripping onto the Jabberducky for dear life, “it’s great to see you. I mean, not that I missed you or anything-”

“Quack!” the Jabberducky interrupted, though Tim took little notice as they continued.

“Not that I didn’t miss you, just that I-”

“Shut up and listen you big tin-can-poop!” the magical Kackel said, folding her arms before her in her signature stance of annoyance.

“Yes! It’s important!” Misery chimed in.

“Just say it already!” demanded Matilda with great exasperation. Her patience for ducking and weaving to escape the Duck-thing’s heaving was wearing thin.

“Just stay still Matilda, this might tickle!” Kackel said as her hair burst into blue flames.

Kackel began to recite an incantation.

“Speak a lot or just do little! Tongues unknot, Animalia Transmittle!”.

Chapter 11: The Fall of Meatball’s Thrall

If you want to know more about something mentioned in the story (e.g. a creature, place or person) go to the Lore of the Land:

If you want information about our hero’s characteristics and inventory at the start of this chapter go here and scroll to the relevant chapter:

The blue threads of Kackel’s magic encircled Matilda a dozen times at lightning speed before they quickly zipped into her open mouth.

“What’s the big idea?” Matilda attempted to say, but instead of words coming forth she instead bleated like a goat.

“Baa, baa, baa!” Matilda bleated toward Kackel, unable to deliver the expletives she wished to.

“Ummm, are you alright?” Eric asked while deftly ducking to avoid the… well, duck.

“Squawk, squawk, squawk!” Matilda squawked, confused and concerned.

“Whatever you’ve done to her, it seems like it worked!” Tim cried from their high vantage, “now let’s hop to it. Matilda, your scroll!”

Matilda twigged. She readied her rosetta-stone tongue and unfurled the magic scroll, once more and cleared her throat.

“Start quacking your bags!” Misery jibed.

“WOOF WOOF WOOF!” Matilda interjected in Alsatian.

The red gem on the Jabberducky’s head continued to glow. He was still under Meatball’s influence, stomping his webbed feet and pecking toward the group ferociously.

“Try again!” Kackel coughed weakly.

“Mooo Mooo Mooo!” cried Matilda with a Jersey inflection.

“That’s no good!” Tim called out being flung from left to right with all the duck’s might, “you’ve got to get quacky and make it snappy!”

“Rwrrr Roaaar!” Matilda growled at Tim, the Knight clearly didn’t understand the complexities of suddenly being able to comprehend every dialect within the animal kingdom all at once.

“Try again!” Tim insisted, they were losing their grip on their high perch as the Jabberduck pounded the ground.

“Ooo Ooo, Ahhh Ahh!” came Matilda’s reply as she evaded the duck’s stomps, as irate as a primate.

“This is driving me bananas,” Misery rolled her eyes before adopting a more serious tone “Whether a story, song or ballad, let this girl speak in mallard!”

The golden sparks of Misery’s magic surrounded Matilda, who straightened up with newfound confidence. The giant duck turned towards her as she gaggled out the spell.

“Quack, Qu-Quack, Quack, Quack, QUAAAACCK!”

With one last glow, so bright it illuminated the clouds above them in red, the ruby’s light snapped off with a quiet ping. The stampeding duck was stuck, frozen in place.

“Tim now is your chance!” Eric cried out.

“Squeak!” The Huntscrabby emerged from Tim’s armour and punched the air with a claw. Matilda turned swiftly toward the arachnid-crab.

“Quack?” she asked, recognition in her voice.

No longer contending with the Jabberducky’s jerky movements, Tim stood tall and with a satisfyingly swift movement plunged the harpoon bodily into the ruby. It shattered into shards which clattered outward in an extraordinary and powerful detonation.

The creature was for a second time exploded, however this time in a cloud of crimson red flinging Tim a great distance away.

Voting Closed

Matilda’s practical animal grammaticals are admirable but, as far as we know, casual, do we want her to continue speaking animal in some form?

***

Tim lay in a heap. Literally.

Their armour had separated and segregated on the few remaining cobblestones. The knight’s feet were now atop their helmet. Tim’s shamble of a corporeal form had been thrown about in a terrible scission.

Through the red fog, the knight could just make out the cloudy silhouette of the giant coming back into being, its shape once again resembling that of the Jabberwonky who had originally come to terrorise the town of Spaghettians. But something was different about how it held itself now.

The Jabberwonky sat with its legs stretched out. It tilted its long neck from left to right, flailing it backwards at regular intervals. As it did so the smoke would weave silkily around the movements before dissipating. Was the Jabberwonky crying?

That’s when Tim heard the wails and when the smoke vanished they could clearly see and hear the hulking beast crying loudly wiping its tears away by craning its neck towards its insufficiently-lengthened arms.

“Poor guy!” a familiar voice from behind the knight said, it was Eric, “didn’t want to commit any of those atrocities, of course.”

“Of course, but at least now he can start getting on with his life,” the shrill drill of Misery’s voice pierced Tim’s senses.

“Quack!” said Matilda.

“Oh, let me get that for you!” the still pained voice of Kackel offered, “Take some flack, take it back, with this whack, no more quacks!”

Tim then heard a loud slapping sound, shortly after which Matilda’s voice re-emerged.

“OUUUUCCCH… thanks, I suppose.”

Then the legs of the different members of Tim’s party came into view, each stopping in place upon seeing Tim.

“Good job there Tim!” Eric imparted.

“Thanks, and though I’d like to discuss the accrued karma points, I’m missing all my armour joints,” Tim was quite cheerful for someone who’d literally gone to pieces.

“We’re not helping you with that!” Matilda said.

“Squeak!” said the huntscrabby on her shoulder.

“That’s right, Socrates,” she said, shocking Tim who hadn’t known the name of their insectoid companion, “that job is for a certain someone.”

They all walked towards the Jabberwonky, leaving Tim by themselves. Or so they thought.

“Looks like it’s my turn to rescue you after an explosion!” Kackel said kneeling down in front of the knight as they worked to reconnect various fragments of Tim’s armour.

“Looks like it…” Tim started as she screwed the gauntlets to the knight’s arms. “Look I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the catacombs and why I came here!”

“You acted like a jerk,” her neck reddened. She paused, inspecting the boots she had just affixed to the ends of each shin plate, “keeping secrets like that, it’s no good!”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t say! Not that that’s an excuse but…”

Kackel swapped the boots around as they were on the wrong legs.

“You’re right, it’s not an excuse. You lead me up the garden path, there I was gliding through cloud nine and you pulled the rug out from under me and now… the ship has sailed!”

“That’s a lot of mixed metaphors…” Tim said.

“I fell in love with you,” Kackel admitted, holding back her tears.

“I know,” The knight said, downcast as their helmet was fixed to their torso, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry… be better!” Kackel said, her hair momentarily flaming blue as they hoisted Tim’s helmet and affixed it in its place, the suit of armour complete.

“Speaking of being better, let’s go see what this creature has to say for themselves!”

Voting Closed

Lady Kackel? More like Lady Catch-el, as in ‘what a’! (Okay, even I think this one is bad). Tim surely hurt the necromancer with their callous actions and devious secrecy. Due to previous votes, we know the decomposition magician won’t be following Tim on the next leg of the journey… so what will she be doing?

Well, there goes that duck and with it the threat of violence that has held the Spaghettians in fear for generations. It looks like Tim’s business in the municipal township is over too. Onwards and upwards though, the next chapter will be dealing with the fallout of what has happened and the preparations for our next great adventure. Don’t miss the next exciting edition of Ba BAAA ba BAAAAAA Misadventure Adventure.

Remember you can pitch new areas, creatures, characters, and items/spells in the existing threads and see them get added to the Lore of the Land encyclopedia.

Voting closes a week from posting! The next chapter will follow about a week after that… with luck!

We are hoping to reach 500 subscribers by the end of the year so please make sure you share the Misadventure Adventure posts that you like.

Upon the entry to the Catacombs, we will be making a recap video of what has happened so far which will be a great spot for people to climb aboard if they haven’t yet. So, if you’ve got someone this silliness might appeal to please share that with them and this with them… and really anything that you want. That’d be sweet.

Also, my goodness we’ve been busy. So, sorry for another chapter a bit behind the schedule we want to keep in the future. Eeep!

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Chapter 10.

Michael — Mon, 05 Sep 2022 11:23:28 GMT

«First Chapter | Next Chapter> Last Chapter»

Tim felt a pervasive sense of dread as before them their challenger emerged from the clearing smoke and dust: a giant, rumbling, quacking beast stood on a pair of gargantuan webbed feet. Tim held firm, an unconscious Lady Kackel hoisted over their shoulder, as they faced the enormous duck.

“That’s a massive mallard!” Tim called out, looking toward their party for approval - for they couldn’t let brilliant alliteration go unadmired - and was instead met with three sets of hands waving frantically at Tim, gesturing for them to move.

“Get out of the way you metal-headed idiot!” Misery squealed.

“But I don’t have a head,” Tim laughed incredulously, for they were but an animate (yet empty) suit of armour.

Misery, Matilda and Eric did not return a laugh. They remained planted in place, the horror they felt apparent across their faces. Eric screamed and pointed his finger at the danger. Tim snapped their attention back in the direction of the enormous duck as it roared out a “QUACK!” and pecked its bill with impressive speed toward the knight.

“Huzzah!” Tim cried, throwing Kackel’s comatose body into the air like a juggling pin, somersaulting away from the duck’s assault in time to catch Kackel, and hoist her back into position over their shoulder. With a clang of metal, Tim stood upright once more.

“That was a close one!” Tim said, taking a moment to bow and curtsey for their audience. “Quick, in here!” Tim continued, then leapt through the air in a grand jeté, and was narrowly missed by a second earth-shattering peck of the duck’s bill.

Tim dove into the safety of a crack between two large rocks. Eric, Matilda and Misery jumped in behind Tim, making their escape. They could no longer see the threat, but they could certainly hear it as it smashed its beak up against the rocks, quacking frantically.

“How are we meant to escape this bleedin’ quack attack?” Eric was exasperated, his nerve was wearing thin.

The duck peered into the crack. They saw his blinking eye look at the group through a monocle.

“Jabby? Is that you?” cried Matilda, eyes agog at the Jabberwonky’s new form.

“Quack!” came the reply.

Chapter 10: Critical Spit

If you want to know more about something mentioned in the story (e.g. a creature, place or person) go to the Lore of the Land:

If you want information about our hero’s characteristics and inventory at the start of this chapter go here and scroll to the relevant chapter:

“It can’t be!” Tim rubbed where their chin ought to be, “the Wonky one now a quacky one? Well, well, well… anyone for a succulent roasted Peking duck?”

“Yeah! Let’s pluck that duck!” Misery fluttered up, tiny fairy hands balled into fists.

“Put the chook on the hook!” Eric nodded, and licked his lips.

Matilda nudged Eric, “he’s not a chicken, he’s not even really a duck. It’s the Jabberwonky. Look, he’s got the same monocle and a stupid little hat. I’m telling you, it’s Jabby.”

“Jabby? Sounds like you two got close,” Misery teased.

“Either way, on the count of three, we make our advance,” instructed Tim, forming a game plan, “Eric, you grab the tail feathers. Misery, sprinkle some gold dust in his eyes. Matilda, you can-”

“No!” Matilda shouted, cutting Tim off, “that duck’s no schmuck!”

“He’s trying to kill us, he said so himself!” Eric cried.

Matilda insisted, “Drew E. Decimelle told me, Jabby isn’t actually evil. Someone’s controlling him!”

“Controlling?” Misery queried.

“Jabby?” questioned an about-face Eric.

“Who E. Decimelle?” Tim spat.

“Tim, you’ve got to believe me. I saw something, something that might help end this battle with Jabby’s life still intact!”

“Keep him alive? Why? There’s nothing pleasant about this pheasant!”

“Tim, enough with the bird puns. They’re a stretch at best. You’ve got to trust me.” Matilda leant in towards Tim. Her eyes glistened with sincerity. She was a friend Tim could depend upon.

Tim sighed and nodded at her, “alright, alright! No more puns. Now, let me think of a new plan.”

“You do that! But first,” she said before abruptly turning and running away, “quick, follow me! We’ve got to get Lady Kackel somewhere safe!”

The crew remained stationary, standing in confusion. Eventually, Eric stepped forward and patted Tim on their back. “She’s quite the firecracker, isn’t she?” he paused a moment and smiled. “Well, best be on our way after her, right?”

With this, the pint-sized butcher chased after his friend, the others close behind. The unconscious Kackel still in Tim’s arms.

“What’s the big idea here, anyway?” Eric asked, finally catching his breath after the party had stopped in the ruins of the Great Spaghetti Bowl.

“Quiet. Ducks have excellent hearing,” the knight whispered.

“They do?” Eric made a poor attempt to whisper.

The others shushed in unison.

“I don’t actually know, but being as inconspicuous as possible seems like the smart thing to do, regardless,” Tim answered shrugging their empty shoulder plates.

Matilda was distracted, scanning the rubble in search of something… but what? Tim thought. The huntscrabby peered out from within Tim’s breastplate and exchanged a look with Tim, for the huntscrabby had also noticed Matilda’s odd actions. Trust her, Tim thought to themselves. The huntscrabby nodded as though they could hear Tim’s thoughts.

“Okay, it’s time to incapacitate the duck, but not harm him,” Tim said, pointing a thumb towards the quack behind their back.

“Didn’t we agree to kill it?” Eric chimed in.

“That’s what I remember, right Tim?” Misery squeaked.

“No!” The knight said, “isn’t that right, Matilda?”

“No?” Misery and Eric asked, mouths agape.

“No, Matilda is right, the Jabberwonky is innocent…” Tim started, in a calm, quiet whisper.

“But what about my son?” a voice sobbed from a nearby home. No one in the party heard it.

Matilda let out a sharp exhale, her gaze fixed upon the item she had been searching for and she began to stride purposefully toward it. Tim (and Kackel on their shoulder) followed her.

Tim addressed the stragglers, “…the Jabberwonky didn’t want to do any of this! For hundreds of our human generations, he’s been under the thrall of Meatball!“

“That’s what Drew said,” replied Matilda.

“Who said?” Eric asked, running to catch up with her.

“Drew said. You know, the librarian on Jabby’s back. She said that Jabby is not actually a violent sort but that he’s being made to act this way,” Matilda explained.

“And Meatball was going to fend him off with the Dagger Eyes to make himself look like a hero, maintaining the threat of the Jabberwonky’s return to secure power for even more generations of the Meatball family.” Misery nodded.

“For power,” Matilda repeated, with a clenched fist.

“And control!” said Eric, arms crossed.

“And to hide the entrance to the catacombs at the bottom of the bowl,” added Misery who turned to Tim, “which you knew about, didn’t you Tim?”

Tim shook their head, though not in disagreement. Tim was in disbelief. The fairy knew. Tim had traversed the peaks of mountains, trekked through marshy valleys, sailed seas on the backs of killer whales - all to one day find the entrance to the fabled catacombs.

I’m almost there! Tim thought as they followed Matilda through the threshold of an open door, decorated with skulls and into the Necromancer Kackel’s lair.

Eric gasped at the skulls decorating Kackel’s house. Misery paused mid-flight to tip her tiny hat to them in a greeting.

“The catacombs? But I’m positive that’s just a legend,” Matilda said.

“It’s true,” Misery said as the knight lay Kackel on her bed. “Right Tim?”

“I might have heard that… somewhere,” Tim responded, eyes darting from side to side. Misery perched herself on a corner poster of Kackel’s bed, clearly dejected. Eric refused to make eye contact with Tim as he traced the grout in the stone-lined floor.

“So you came here for the catacombs, not to save our hamlet?” Matilda asked, her heart sinking.

“No. Well, yes. Originally, it was the legend that brought me here. I was going to tell you eventually,” Tim said, waving an empty arm of armour dismissively, preoccupied as he tipped out the contents of various drawers and cupboards in Kackel’s home.

“You didn’t come to save us?” Eric repeated, still looking at the floor. His foot met with a bone - a femur perhaps - he nudged it across the floor with his toe.

“Yes,” Tim said sighing and faced the group “I came in search of the catacombs. I can’t tell you why I didn’t say anything, but right now we need to focus on the problem at hand and I have a plan.”

The group didn’t respond. Even the huntscrabby jumped down from Tim’s shoulder and scuttled over to join the others.

“Right then,” Eric conceded, “you’re lucky we’re in peril and need to be saved, because the moment we’re done with the duck, you’d better spill the beans.”

“Yes,” Tim turned to face Eric. “I owe you that.”

Here the knight snapped their fingers in the direction of Misery.

“Misery, you need to find something to revive Kackel, something potent…”

“Yes, Knight,” The small fairy saluted and blew the knight a raspberry before speeding off in search of something to raise Kackel. Tim moved their finger in the direction of Eric.

“You’re going to have to get up close to the duck,” the knight put a hand on Eric’s shoulder.

The butcher sighed, turning his back to hide his shame, “b-b-but… I’m too scared.”

“Never fear, Eric, I wouldn’t set you up to fail. Here, take these.” Tim reached their arm into the mouth of their armour, and rattled about in their search before retrieving the golden, jewel-encrusted binoculars attached to a long stem. Tim tossed the Dagger Eyes to Eric.

“You have to be close for them to work,” Misery interrupted, informing Eric of the legendary eyewear of her people, “but we believe in you!”

She floated onward, a bottle of ointment, the quill of a porcupine, and a rotten apple in tow.

“Matilda,you’ve got the most important job of all,” announced Tim.

“Really? Do I get to do some super cool backflip strike? Or lead an army into battle? Or learn some all-powerful reality-bending spell?” Matilda swished her hands in front of her face.

“No, even more important.” The Knight plucked the ancient scroll from Kackel’s clutches, taken from the tied-up Meatball, and threw it to Matilda, “you’re going to read to him!”

“You have to read it clearly so he can understand, otherwise it won’t work.” Misery again interrupted with some important advice, as she toiled over a smoking cauldron filled with green potion.

Matilda caught the scroll in her hand, and said with a wry smile, “I think I can handle that, but what are you going to do?”

“I’ve got to find the source of the spell. The scroll says that somewhere on the Jabberwonky there is a glowing gem. The legend is that when the scroll’s words have been spoken aloud in the proximity of the Jabberwonky, the gem will cease to glow.”

Misery threw the quill into the pot, which belched in response. The fairy added, “without the glow, we will be able to destroy the gem.”

“And without the gem, he will no longer be susceptible to Meatball’s whim and will,” Tim explained.

“That’s brilliant!” Eric applauded.

“The only question is, where is the gem?" Tim continued, twirling their non-existent moustache.

“I saw it! When I was up there I saw it, on the Jabberwonky’s head under that questionable hat!” Matilda exclaimed, referring to the Wonky One’s silly little trilby. "A right, bright glowing ruby cloggin’ his noggin!”

“Eureka!” Tim shouted.

“Well, that’s the plan then. We kill one bird with one stone!” Eric said dusting his hands together as if the work had already been done.

“It won’t kill him, just restore him to his natural self,” Matilda corrected, “but what about our sorceresses? How will they be involved? Particularly with Kackel indisposed?” Matilda gestured to the snoring necromancer.

The cauldron began to spark as Misery plonked in the rotten apple.

“She won’t be asleep for long!” Misery giggled, suctioning some of the tincture from the pot into a dropper.

“Okay, by my calculations we’ve got lots of time to-" Tim started but was interrupted by the smashing of a window and a huge globule of purple sludge landed on a shelf of spooky paraphernalia, which melted into a charred shadow. The duck had hocked a loogie.

“Yikes!” Eric said, “looks like you’ll need a new calculator.”

But Tim had already run out the door.

Voting Closed

Upon their exit from Kackel’s Hovel, Tim performed an entirely unnecessary commando roll into the open space for the duck was nowhere in sight. Evidence the Jabber-ducky had recently passed by was everywhere. In his path he had left a wake of destruction; giant globs of magical purple jelly and scorch marks.

Tim gestured toward Matilda and Eric that the coast was clear, and they followed behind the knight, Eric holding the Dagger Eyes in his trembling hand while Matilda unravelled the scroll, happy to see the text was short (for all its democratic principles the Spaghetti Bowl never really got a good education policy together).

“Quack!” the trio heard ahead of them as the Jabber-ducky spewed forth steaming jelly into the town centre’s fountain.

Eric, whose body was abuzz with anxiety, did his best to pull himself together. He held the Dagger Eyes high above his head and ran as fast as his tiny legs could take him toward the town centre.

“Oi, you there!” he cried, “look over here!”

Eric dove behind a stack of wine barrels and held the Dagger Eyes out from the side. The duck turned and locked eyes with the binoculars. The golden lashes rimming their objective lenses fluttered, transfixing the bird in its magical stare.

“It worked!” Eric laughed, relieved. The Dagger Eyes had simulated a great force of critical glare, causing the target to take a deep, hard look at themselves in stunned, immobile silence.

Voting Closed

“Great work,” Matilda cried, as she clambered up the barrels and unravelled the scroll, “we just need Tim to get into position and we’ll be home in time for tea.”

Tim, who had joined Eric behind the barrels, let out an ear-piercing whistle, ”here boy!”

The huntscrabby scuttled toward them, bringing with them a long piece of rope clasped tightly in its pincers. Tim reached within the cavernous confines of their armour and retrieved their harpoon, which they held forth for the huntscrabby to swiftly (and with impressive agility) tie the rope to.

The little insectoid then scampered up to Tim’s shoulder. The knight winked at the little fella.

“Right, well it looks like you know what you’re doing,” Matilda cleared her throat, looked down to Eric to ensure his grip on the Dagger Eyes wasn’t faltering, and then began to read from the scroll.

“ahem, ‘an order tall, an answered call, it’s time to fall from this thrall!’”

Nothing happened.

“Wait, let me get that stupid little hat off the gem first,” said Tim.

With one swift manoeuvre, Tim threw the harpoon towards the trilby. It struck straight through, exposing the glowing ruby, then looped around the neck of the beast forming an anchor.

Tim then climbed the duck, plucking an occasional feather till they reached the top, where they called down, “you know, this plan has gone extraordinarily well!”

The knight waved his armoured hands in front of Jabby’s stunned face. As he straightened Jabby’s monocle, Tim continued, “I’m something of a strategic genius, don’t you agree?”

“Let’s try again,” nodded Matilda, holding both ends of the scroll firmly.

“An order tall, an answered call, it’s time to fall from this thrall!”

The ruby kept glowing.

“Maybe, you have to read it with a little more panache?” Tim said gesturing at the last word, “this is your moment in the spotlight, Tilds. Time to shine.”

Matilda put down the scroll to enable her to increase the flair in her delivery. She was to gesticulate, pause at times for dramatic effect, and end with something fitting of a finale.

“An order tall,” with her hands she mimed measuring something of significant height.

“An answered call,” she picked up the receiver of an imaginary phone.

“It's time,” she pause for dramatic effect and tapped her wrist.

“To fall from this thrall!” she let her body fall from the top of the barrel as if part of a trust exercise, somersaulting gracefully mid-air and landing on her feet.

Tim applauded, Eric guffawed and Matilda curtseyed, yet still the ruby glowed.

“Bravo! Encore!” cried Eric, tilting the Dagger Eyes in order to join in on the applause.

As soon as the gaze was broken, the Jabberducky sprang back to life.

“Yikes!” screamed Eric, who had dropped the Dagger Eyes in his fright, smashing the precious enchanted lenses.

“An order tall, an answered call, it’s time to fall from this thrall!’” Matilda called out as fast as she could, even louder than before.

Still the ruby glowed and the Jabberducky advanced.

“You idiots,” a voice behind them called “a duck can’t understand human language! It’s not going to work.”

Kackel limped in their direction, supported by a crutch conjured with Misery’s golden dust.

“WATCH OUT!” Misery wailed, pointing at the duck who was once again pecking at the crew.

This is all my fault, Tim thought. I’ve got to do something.

Voting Closed

ARGGHHHHH, everything was going so well. It looks like our heroes have this in the bag though… right? RIGHT?

Thanks to Prince Smith (one of the best princes) inventor of the Dagger Eyes - now sadly destroyed. Remember, like Prince, you can pitch new areas, creatures, characters, and items/spells in the existing threads and see them get added to the Lore of the Land encyclopedia.

Voting closes on the 13th of September, 2022. The next chapter will follow about a week after that… with luck!

Have a look at the latest Place I’ve Never Lived:

or don’t… it’s up to you… I’d appreciate it though.

If you enjoyed this please do one, some or all of the things below:

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Bonus: Misadventure Adventure through the lens of Artificial Intelligence

Michael — Fri, 12 Aug 2022 04:16:27 GMT

We’ve been spending way too much time playing with Midjourney (and some other AI image creators) and it’s more magical than Lady Kackel and Misery combined.

This AI will draw, paint or generate an image that you describe to it and we spent some time creating this quickly revised version of the story so far for you illustrated by Midjourney

Brave Tim Cognito, empty suit of armour, pictured here with their pet Huntscrabby, came to the Great Spaghetti Bowl.

The monument of culinary delight was chiseled from rock for nefarious purposes. Spaghetti piled high within it.

Upon reaching the fantastical place Tim met with Eric, the local butcher with a heart of gold…

And Matilda, a snarky, basil farming maiden.

They took Tim to the council chambers to meet their democratically elected leader Councilor Meatball, a shifty politician who harbored a terrible secret.

It was actually his family who proposed the spaghetti bowl and a lifetime of servitude for the Spaghettians at the behest of the dreaded Jabberwonky.

The wonky beast fast approached the bowl, leading Tim to seek the help of Lady Kackel a local necromancer who could deftly raise the dead… only to have them laugh in her face.

Together, Kackel and Tim unearthed the long buried bottle of the fairy, Misery.

Soon after a battle broke out, one whose ramifications are still to be discovered.

Chapter 9.

Michelle — Sat, 06 Aug 2022 09:18:06 GMT

«First Chapter | Next Chapter> Last Chapter»

Armed with the new information that the Great Spaghetti Bowl was but an elaborate and clandestine trapdoor to the Hidden Catacombs, Lady Kackel the amateur necromancer’s heart sunk to the pit of her stomach as she faced the notion her newly beloved may not be her truly beloved. Meatball had planted the seed of doubt; did her brave and virtuous knight, Tim Cognito truly have heroic intentions? Did Tim harbour a secret? Was the hollow suit of armour here for good or self-gain?

Misery the fairy turned the knob with the flick of her wand. The door swung open. They were about to step through the threshold and back out into the village when Meatball’s snivelly voice cried out-

“Where do you think you’re going? Untie me you torturous sorceress!" he directed his ire at Kackel.

“We think it’s better for you to wait here and stew in your thoughts for a while,” she said, shrugging her shoulder before turning back on her heel, “after all, meatballs are best cooked slowly.” she said to Misery, who giggled as she floated through the door. Without turning to look, the fairy again waved her wand, this time over her shoulder, “Infernus Burnus of your Dermis” she chirruped in birdsong.

The room containing Meatball lit up with flickering reds and oranges. All at once, the kettle on the magically lit stove began to clatter as it came to a boil, the fireplace ignited in a puff of crimson smoke and crackled with great content, and the ends of each tapered candle in the grasp of the candelabra sparked feriociously.

As they left the house they heard Meatball cry out for help. The fire was controlled and so he had little to fear… other than perhaps a light singeing.

Chapter 9: Giveth Me Fuel, Giveth Me Fire, Giveth All That I Desireth

If you want to know more about something mentioned in the story (e.g. a creature, place or person) go to the Lore of the Land:

If you want information about our hero’s characteristics and inventory at the start of this chapter go here and scroll to the relevant chapter:

Comment with your ideas...

Tim Cognito came at once to a vast opening in the cragged landscape. Before them, their harpoon was embedded into the earth. Their empty armour clanged as they walked determinably towards their weapon and standing, legs braced and bent, the Knight pulled the harpoon, retrieving it from the dirt.

“Ha!” they cried, assuming a victorious stance with the harpoon hoisted firmly above their head, though no one was about to cheer them on.

The knight turned back to face in the direction they had just come from, toward the battleground expecting to see the fight between the villagers of the Great Spaghetti Bowl and the evil creature, the Jabberwonky, in full force. Instead, Tim saw Spaghettians dashing for cover behind boulders, some were hiding themselves in mounds of dirt, and others were running for their dear lives. Their hope was quickly dissipating.

Tim, harpoon still raised above their head, began to pace toward the monster. As they quickened to a sprint, the huntscrabby crawled out from inside the animate armour. On the shoulder plate of its master, the crustacean stood up on its two back legs and waved its pincers to the Spagghetians. One by one, they peered out from behind rocks and dusted the dirt from their clothes as they erupted into riotous applause. They whooped and hollered for their hero, Tim Cognito.

Tim had expected to see the Jaberwonky prancing about in glee, but instead saw the giant deep in conversation, who with they could not see. How strange, Tim thought as they saw the Jabberwonky nod his bulbous head enthusiastically and gesticulate excitedly.

Voting Closed

***

“‘There it is,’ Gorkorn thought to themselves, ‘nearing forty, no purpose, no partner. It’s just what your mother warned you about.’ Krashkallab was not only a wife. She was a sounding board. She was Gorkorn’s everything. Whenever Gorkorn returned home from a hard day’s pillaging, there she was, always ready with a goblet of hot mead and an ear to lend.” From her position atop the Jabberwonky’s head, Matilda had assumed an even whinier voice as she continued to read from the incomprehensibly successful best-seller, Beat Slay Trudge. “But Krashkallab was there no more!”

“That’s depressing,” Jabby said enthralled, now sitting down and thinking contemplatively. “I sure hope there’s some kind of lesson, Gorkorn just can’t go on like this.”

“It was the day of the Summer Solstice when Gorkorn finally had the epiphany. There he was in the market square, surrounded by his brutal and merciless band of barbarians. They were laughing and telling jokes when Gorkorn had the realisation: he had to stop pretending he was okay. He had to accept his true feelings. Upon hearing a particularly off-colour joke from Torg he decided it was time to speak up.”

“Yes, do it Gorkorn! Be brave,” said Jabby, completely enraptured.

“‘You know what, Torg? Your attitude is problematic.’ Torg blushed mildly. 'And furthermore, I need you all to know that beneath this bulky, hardened exterior is the soul of a hurt man, a broken heart and…’ here Gorkorn stumbled ‘…a companionless husband.’ Gorkorn buried his face in his hands and wept. Although the tears were ones of sadness, releasing the truth felt heavenly.”

“You know, I am kind of like Gorkorn! Why am I hiding from who I truly am?” The Jabberwonky relented, jumping back to his feet. “After all, I do have a passion. I have always wanted…”

The Jabberwonky’s stomach interrupted him, letting out an enormous rumble. He burped a cloud of purple, he sheepishly covered his mouth with his gnarled fingers. It seems that the magical jelly from Tim’s spell was repeating on him.

“I’m fine,” he proclaimed, despite not being asked. “In fact, I’m more than fine. You see, much like Gorkorn, I’ve been lying to you. Heck, I’ve been lying even to myself. All this filibustering and bamboozling about political movements and hostile take-overs? It’s just the posturing of the boy inside of me.”

“The boy inside you? Did you eat one of the Spaghettian children?” Matilda asked gasping.

“No, no, no, no! Well, that is to say yes and he was delicious.” the Jabberwonky swatted the thought away and shook his head before continuing, “I mean it more metaphorically, you see my parents wanted great things for me.”

Here he tilted his head wistfully, Matilda clutched on tight to the hairs sprouting from the Jabberwonky to keep from falling.

“‘Jabby’ they would say ‘you could be someone real special’” Jabby mimicked with a tone of authority, “so they sent me to far-off schools to network with other elite, trust-fund monsters and, well, they thought I might…” he trailed off, and again shook his head, “oh it’s too embarrassing to say.”

“Go on Jabby, I won’t judge you,” Matilda said, no longer acting but with actual concern, as she recalled the words of Drew E. Decimelle when she had revealed the inner conflict within the Jabberwonky’s heart.

“Well they thought I might…” he trailed off, sighed and reluctantly continued, “one day unite the four kingdoms of Essopia and lead our lands into a time of great prosperity.”

“As our king?” Matilda probed.

“I’m a republican. I’m not for the monarchy. They wanted me to be democratically elected. But I never want to end up like them, no sirree, I only want to bring people together doing what I truly love,” the Jabberwonky clearly had no love lost for his parents.

He began to move his great person about, feverish with excitement, “That’s right! Not through the ballot box but rather the foxtrot. Not with an iron fist but by doing the twist. Dancing with clogs, not being a demagogue, you know?”

“You… want to be a dancer?” Matilda asked.

“I already am in my heart.”

Here he leapt up. The comically small trilby hat sported by the Jabberwonky flapped up from his scalp, allowing Matilda to glimpse that it concealed a glowing red gem embedded into his head.

As the Jabberwonky moved from left foot to right, leaning in and out in a juicy watusi, the basil farmer was nearly shaken loose. She clasped onto his ear even harder, allowing the enormous copy of Beat, Slay, Trudge to slip from her grip. She watched as it fell down towards the distant ground below, where it landed with a thump.

***

The village shook with the thrum of what sounded to be a bass drum. The houses involuntarily tipped their roofs to Kackel and Misery in time with the beat as the two magical ladies made their way toward the giant, wonky beast.

“Take that mum!” he shimmied, “take THAT dad!” he shook.

They stood agape as they came upon the Jabberwonky kicking up dust as he danced around a giant leather bound book.

“This is weird, right?” Kackel asked Misery.

“Yes, but don’t you feel like things are looking up?” the fairy swayed in the air to the rhythm of the Wonky One’s steps, “why don’t you join in?”

“I’m a necromancer… not a necrodancer!” Kackel insisted, trying to conceal her alarm.

“Come on!” Misery said, conjuring up a red rose and snatching it between her teeth, “You gotta take some you time!”

“But there’s no music.”

Misery waved her wand and from nowhere music started to play.

Kackel rolled up her sleeves, her hair raising into a shock of blue flames as she awkwardly (and without rhythm) began to do the grapevine step.

“Now you’re getting it!”

Together, Kackel, Misery and the Jabberwonky danced to the music, loudly they stomped and shook. Gyrating, twisting, twirling so vigorously they hadn’t heard the clang of metal against metal as the great knight ran towards them.

“…What’s happening here?” Tim Cognito questioned in confusion, the query echoing deep into their armour.

Kackel heard a record scratch causing her to abruptly cease the do-si-do she was performing with Misery. The music had stopped. Kackel’s face flushed red as she turned towards Tim.

Eric ran over noting the return of his entire party and stopping right behind them.

“What are you doing dancing with that, that…tyrannical dictator?” Tim spluttered toward Kackel, one hand on their hip.

A villager cried out from behind a rock, “and he ate my son!”

Jabby burped and patted his stomach, which was once again rumbling.

Kackel shook away her blushed cheeks, remembering what she’d heard from Meatball about the intentions of her knight.

“Why should we believe you?” she asked, jabbing a pointed finger at the knights chest.

The Huntscrabby aimed his pincers offensively at Kackel, snapping them quickly in a brusque clackity-clack for he had no time for the necromancer sassing his knight when he’d just missed out on demonstrating his one true skill (next level boogying).

“Why? Why? Did you not just watch that creature kill some of your people?” Tim harped.

“Yeah, well at least he was honest about why he came here and he’s a changed man, he’s decided to eschew politics for a career in the arts.” Kackel crossed her arms.

“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but overhear this conversation being held in my honour,” the giant neck of the creature craned down towards the Knight and the Necromancer who were arguing on the ground. “I’m afraid that I still intend to eat every single person here. I’m true to my word you see? It’s just that, now I intend to engage in a little soft-shoe while I eat! You know, dinner and a show!”

Voting Closed

Matilda jumped from the beast’s head just as it was about to arch back up again, landing with impressive agility.

“Matilda!” Eric squeaked before coughing and adopting a more manly tone, “you’re safe!”

Ignoring Eric, Matilda adopted a warrior pose. The fingers of the hand raised above her head waggled, indicating towards the Jabberwonky who had leaned right back into an attack position.

“Quick EVERYONE MOVE!” Matilda ordered.

The entire party dove out of the way, shielding themselves with their hands for Matilda’s vicious mauling of the Wonky One - but it did not come. Instead, an almighty rumble violently erupted from the body of the Jabberwonky. They each stood up and looked toward the creature, and then to each other.

The beast stood high, hands on belly as his entire body shook.

“He’s about to BLOW!” Eric cried out.

The crew bolted as fast as they could muster, but they couldn’t outrun the onslaught. They were catapulted at an immense velocity as the Jabberwonky, fuelled by the dangerous and unknown properties of the magical jelly, exploded into a mushroom cloud of mauve smoke.

Visibility was low. Tim reached in front of them and found the unconscious form of Lady Kackel, who they slung heroically over their shoulder. The knight followed the yellow glow of Misery as she led the way to safety.

“Where are Matilda and Eric?” Tim yelled.

“No clue!” Misery’s sing-song was voice frantic.

From the depths of the purple haze emerged the silhouette of Matilda who was holding the plump form of Eric in her arms like an oversized infant.

“Is he gone?” Misery asked.

“I’d say it’s curtains for his number!” Tim stated confidently.

“Ugh, were you a musical theatre kid?” Matilda groaned, ever her sarcastic self.

“But what was that magical jelly concoction?” Eric asked.

“Who knows,” said Tim.

Through the clearing dust and the quieting wind emerged a giant duck.

“QUAAAAACCCCCKKKKKK!” it cried out leaning its head down close to our heroes. Close enough to notice the tiny trilby that sat comfortably upon its head.

Whoa. A duck? Really? Ummm… okay.

Remember you can pitch new areas, creatures, characters, and items/spells in the existing threads and see them get added to the Lore of the Land encyclopedia.

Voting closes a week from posting! The next chapter will follow about a week after that… with luck!

For the first time in Misadventure Adventure we had some tied votes last chapter. People wanted the Jabberwonky’s secret passion to both be about his wish to not become like his parents AND to be a world class dancer. I hope we weaved those both in gracefully.

The other tied vote was the choice to make the Jabberwonky explode AND ALSO turn into a duck (a series of questions that definitely was not inspired by a not-that-good early-internet albino-blacksheep-flash video because why would we do that?) which also has happened now. A battle with a giant duck was not how we envisaged the denouement of this struggle but that looks like what is going to happen.

Also, yes, delays. We know but we’re getting back to our regular schedule. As an apology you can expect a fun extra post next week and this little outtake of the narration where our infant son decided to try and eat the microphone:

If you enjoyed this please do one, some or all of the things below:

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Delays for Days

Michael — Thu, 21 Jul 2022 02:48:03 GMT

Yes, Tim. We know!

Tim’s grumpy as, no doubt you know, Chapter 9 hasn’t reached your inboxes yet. You see, Michael and Michelle are under a crunch on other projects right now and haven’t found a spare moment to produce the fine Misadventure Adventure quality content you are used to.

BUT don’t despair as its been some time since we have engaged in a LORE OF THE LAND session. For new subscribers the Lore of the Land is our ever growing Encyclopaedia of the Misadventure Adventure Universe and as it seems like soon we will be saying goodbye to the Great Spaghetti Bowl and “hello” to the mythical Catacombs, its a better time than ever to suggest some items, creatures, spells and events that might be found down there. Comment on this post with ideas for the catacombs and beyond.

This music video for Elf Power was made by me, Michael, the guy who writes this stuff at the end that I doubt Michelle ever reads. Tell me in the comments if you do, Michelle.

Anyway, it’s a real fun ride and a great song from their new album on Yep Roc called ‘Artificial Countrysides’, do all the listening and buying things!

The other thing is another edition of Places I’ve Never Lived, also made by me. This time it’s a tour of an impressive Art Deco Theatre whose repertory company didn’t always live up to its grandeur.

Other than these things you can just keep on keepin’ on! Tell me in the comments that you read this even if you’re not Michelle.

If you enjoyed this please do one, some or all of the things below:

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Chapter 8.

Michael — Sun, 03 Jul 2022 08:47:37 GMT

«First Chapter | Next Chapter> Last Chapter»

Note: This section depicted in the above video

“Prepare to say nighty-night, Knighty-Knight!” the dreaded Jabberwonky leered over Tim, the enchanted suit of armour who is the hero of our tale, “especially now I’ve done away with your spear.”

“It’s a harpoon, you bulbous-headed ninny.” Tim beat their chest plate.

Tim’s Huntscrabby retreated into the refuge of Tim’s shoulder-plate to escape the breath of the Wonky One (which is saying something as the lair he had retreated into was very fishy indeed).

“Whatever,” the Jabberwonky sopped in a childish clop, for he loathed to be wrong. “All I wanted was a delightful meal, is that so much to ask?”

“Geez, you’ve really got a flare for the dramatic! That’s all you wanted? Well why didn’t you say so?” Tim asked, as they gestured to the freshly dug hole the Spaghettians had only recently used to trap the beast, “here, have all you can eat!”

Tim cracked their fingers, cleared their non-existent throat and let out a thunderous cry, “Wingardium Gelatinousa!”

Sparks flew from Tim’s fingers, and in the air globbed together to form a stream of purple, slimy jelly. Being the first spell Tim had mastered, they were very pleased with themselves indeed. They filled the hole to the brim.

“There you go, a meal fit for a king… or, at least, a despotic overlord!” Tim laughed, despite not knowing whether the jelly they had spouted was actually edible.

“Finally, an appetizer,” The Jabberwonky’s drooling lips smacked together, “service at last!”

As the beast greedily leapt toward the pool of jelly, Tim made their way to retrieve their harpoon.

“Look!” shouted Eric with unconcealable delight, pointing at the poised figure of Matilda triumphantly perched atop the Jabberwonky’s head; in one hand her pitchfork, and in the other an open book.

Chapter 8: The Truth Can Be Hard to Hear

If you want to know more about something mentioned in the story (e.g. a creature, place or person) go to the Lore of the Land:

If you want information about our hero’s characteristics and inventory at the start of this chapter go here and scroll to the relevant chapter:

Tim paced toward the trajectory of their harpoon in the hopes of retrieving the weapon. Their feet keeping in time with the slurps and gulps made by the Jabberwonky as they devoured the pool of jelly Tim had enchanted. In their minds eye, flashes of the beast nibbling on the flesh of Tim’s newfound friends struck him.

NO! The knight thought, the images too much to bear. I mustn’t think of that, I need to stay focused on my goal.

***

Meatball, the erstwhile Councillor, had been completely befuddled by a sweet fairy and a correspondence-course-drop-out necromancer.

He had been bewitched by Misery and Kackel to remain stiller than a statue, save for his eyes which followed Kackel’s movements as she hopped in through the open window and sauntered up to him. Small beads of sweat formed across his brow.

Misery followed Kackel into the room, dusting gold shimmer in her wake. “Well, he won’t cause us any trouble,” Misery giggled, waving the palm of her tiny hand in front of Meatball’s face. “Well, not for a while!” she added as his pupils followed her movements.

“He’s static with nothing in the attic!” Kackel cackled.

“Some impressive politician he is, huh?” Misery tinkled, “I can’t believe your village voted for him.”

“You’ve never had to lug a giant potato puff up an enormous bowl carved into a mountain, have you?” Kackel rolled her eyes at Misery, “his platform of sanctioning the production of gnocchi changed our lives.”

Kackel began to rifle through meatball’s robes, emptying various pockets of their contents - mostly balls of lint, a cherry lip balm, six silver coins (which Kackel gladly pocketed) and a small handbook entitled How to Be Evil: A Guide to Being Remembered.

“Easily won over, you lot,” jibed Misery, “ever stop to question why he wanted to take on the Big Spud Trade? He was in bed with Wheat Corp.”

Kackel gasped. Her hair flamed blue with rage. Meatball’s eyes widened, then squinted shut as it was all he could do to avoid Kackel’s angry, magical blows.

“But there is wheat in gnocchi!” she screeched, “that doesn’t make sense!”

Instead of the beating he was anticipating, Meatball instead felt a soft, yet unbearable and persistent pressure across his form. He felt as though he was ripping at the seams, but the enchantment trapped him from moving out of the way from the ultimate device of torture: a large tickling feather.

“Where… is… the… scroll?” Kackel demanded, teeth gritted as she waggled the feather she had conjured under his armpits.

Meatball replied only with screeches of laughter, muffled by his immobile lips.

“Hurry, the spell keeping him in place is due to expire!” Misery yelled.

Sure enough, Meatball’s frozen in place stance was slowly defrosting; his fingers began to waggle and his toes curl.

“Tickle… tickle… tickle!” Kackel spat, moving the feather swiftly across the backs of Meatball’s knees.

Regaining movement, Meatball began to thrash his arms about. The lips of his mouth abruptly unclasped, unleashing bellows of laughter. Out from under his robes flew a long, thin scroll bound with a black ribbon.

“Got it!” hollered Misery, as she caught the scroll with both arms. “Now tie him up!”

***

Eric couldn’t believe his eyes. He had considered the hole he and the Spaghettians had dug to be impressive, after all, it was deep enough to encapture the Jabberwonky. Despite this, mere seconds following Tim filling the hole to the brim, the Wonky One was greedily hoovering up the dregs at the bottom of the pit, intent on imbibing every last scoop of the goop.

Eric, being the typically-terrified variety of butcher, was indeed mortified to the spot. His eyes were fixed on Matilda, who had remained firmly saddled atop the head of the beast.

Now drive in the pitchfork, deep into his head, he willed silently Yet, she didn’t. Instead, she leant in close to the Jabberwonky’s left ear. Eric squinted, and as he sheilded his eyes from the sun, he could just make out an object in the hand not brandishing the pitchfork.

A book! He laughed to himself, Never took Matilda the basil farmer to be a literate one.

***

“Jabby,” Matilda whined into the beast’s enormous, waxy ear.

“Who said that?” the Jabberwonky cried out, spitting forth a slop of saliva and magical jelly which landed on a pair of unfortunate Spaghettians.

Matilda had hoped she’d garner a response from the Jabberwonky by adopting the nickname used by the librarian, Drew E. Decimelle, who lived upon the Jabberwonky’s back.

“It’s Gorkorn. I thought I had everything I wanted in life: a husband and a successful career,” Matilda held back the giggles as she continued, “but now I’m newly widowered I am facing a turning point-”

“It can’t be! Not that stupid book, anything but a self-involved tale of a mid-life journey to find themselves!” the Jabberwonky cried, for he knew he had to hide his passion for his beloved Beat, Slay, Trudge and feign the same tone of annoyance as the critics who had unjustly panned it, “…can’t you see I’m in the middle of a hostile takeover!”

“It’s funny you should mention that,” Matilda continued as she frantically flicked pages to decipher the plot. “Oh look, how refreshing! My quest for enlightenment diverges from the norm; I don’t mysticise a culture with my American money to achieve self-actualisation. I just go on a good old-fashioned killing spree!”

“Yes, I’ve always imagined Julia Roberts in the lead role,” the Jabberwonky nodded, before snapping back to reality. “Look here Little Voice, whoever you are, I don’t have time for this!”

“Ah yes, Julia would do nicely.” Matilda giggled.

The Jabberwonky released a frustrated huff, “I’m staging a delightful coup. There is no time to immerse myself in the privilege of being an upper-class widower without a rudder.”

Matilda grinned. Her plot was working. The Jabberwonky remained stationary, giving the Spaghettians ample opportunity to escape.

“That’s just what Gorkorn says - ahem, I mean what I say - here on page sixty-four,” Matilda cleared her throat before quoting directly “It wasn’t just the smell of lavender and the faint melody of the organ that permeated around Gorkorn. No, the thoughts of his lost love, Krashkallab, were ever-present, ever encircling, but here, amongst kith-”

She licked her finger dramatically as she flicked over the page and continued, “and kin in the local funeral parlour, he could not let his overwhelming emotions lead to a crack in his façade. He had to remain the ferocious, villainous barbarian his reputation had always insisted he was.”

“No more!” The beast whined.

“Oh sorry,” Matilda said with false empathy, “I didn’t realise you weren’t across the complicated subtext, Jabby!”

“Please don’t CALL ME THAT!” He said stamping his foot, “and you ought to know I crush the Beat, Slay, Trudge round at every quiz night.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” dismissed Matilda, “you see, there are parallels between yourself and Gorkorn.”

“There is?” the Jabberwonky was clearly flattered.

“Oh, yes. Gorkorn’s reputation as a barbarian is much like yours as a vicious revolutionary. You feel like you have to violently overthrow the government but deep down you know you have another true passion, don’t you Jabby?”

“Destroying democracies is my game and dabbling in hypocrisy is my fame,” he puffed out his chest, “where did you hear otherwise?”

“Sure thing Jabby. Maybe hearing about Gorkorn’s secret passion will help you in revealing yours”.

***

Meatball was no longer frozen in place, he was tied to a chair. Misery had worked up a sweat removing his boots (for they were twice her size) to expose his ten little piggies.

Kackel’s eyes glinted, as she swished the feather before Meatball’s face, “it’s time to fess up and divulge what the Meatball family have been up to… for generations and generations.”

“What is the meaning of this?” Meatball yelled, his face redder than passata, “I demand to be released from these ropes at once. I am an elected official.”

“Not anymore, you’re not. I’ve learned a lot about you and the Meatball Dynasty and I haven’t liked what I’ve heard.”

“Oh yeah, well I’ve got to tell you, I’m completely on the level. I am not a crook!”

Misery perched herself on Meatball’s restrained knee, dusting it with gold sparkles. She faced the Councillor, and with a voice as sweet as raspberry pie, she began to laugh.

“I was there, Meatball Jr.” she waggled her finger at him, “I’ve watched generations of your family benefit from the actions of Michelangelo Meatball.”

Meatball gaped.

“I know all about how your ancestor summoned the Wonky One, and what for? To keep this town in check.”

“I-I d-don’t k-know what y-you’re t-t-talking about!” Meatball struggled against his restraints.

“Your thieving great, great, great, great gramps even took my Kingdom’s Dagger Eyes,” Misery was furious, “and just like him, you want total control.”

“You can’t prove it!” Meatball cried.

“That’s it, I’ve heard enough! Kackel, we need some leverage,” Misery took flight, her outstretched finger pointing at the feather held by the Necromancer.

“Don’t you mean some feather-age?” Kackel sneered, swishing the feather across the soles of Meatball’s feet.

“HA HA HAHA, O-KAY! OKAY! HA HA HEE HEE, I’LL TALK!” Meatball called out amid violent fits of laughter.

“What’s that?” Kackel teased, continuing to tickle his tootsies.

“YES, YESSS, HOO HOO HO, I’LL TALK!!!” Upon this last cry, Lady Kackel withdrew the feather. Meatball slumped back in his seat, utterly defeated.

“It’s true,” Meatball sighed, “Michelangelo Meatball was a phony.”

“…go on,” Kackel urged, swishing the feather and causing Meatball to flinch.

“He set this whole thing up. He wanted to seize power. But I didn’t ask to be a part of it, I was just born into it!”

“But you were part of it, and your constituents who put their trust in you are endangered because of you!” Kackel thrust the feather viciously from ankle to ankle.

“YESSS, HOO HOO HO, but it was all, HOO HO, going to be safe!”

Kackel ceased tickling, allowing him to continue, “if we upheld the schedule as planned, the spaghetti would have been eaten and the Jabberwonky would have already left.”

Kackel again raised the feather.

“There would be no sacrifice!” Meatball yelled, squirming at the threat.

“You could have called off the beast at any point,” Kackel shook before him the scroll she had retrieved from Meatball’s robes, “so why didn’t you?”

“That, that KNIGHT!” Meatball cried with anger, “that Knight ruined everything, corrupting the bowl with their awful scent - fish doesn’t go with this dish!”

Meatball’s head shook as he continued, “taking the Dagger Eyes I needed to get close enough for the incantation.”

“Tim came here to save us!” Kackel replied, softening at the mention of her crush.

“I don’t need the feather to laugh at that!” Meatball went on, “I had heard from our scouts that Tim was coming and I know why they are here.”

“And why is that?” Misery asked.

“They know about the secret… I mean… nothing.” Meatball pursed his lips and fixed his gaze on the ceiling.

“What secret?” Kackel leaned in, menacing him with the feather she brandished.

“Okay, okay, don’t come near me with that thing again. The Great Spaghetti Bowl was built for another reason. Not just to appease the beast, that was just a cover,” Meatball paused, fighting every impulse in his head telling him not to continue. “The truth is… it hides the secret entrance to the lost Catacombs.”

Misery and Kackel both gasped.

“The Catacombs? The fabled labyrinth of countless caves?” Misery cried before covering her tiny mouth.

“The cave walls, glistening with precious jewels? The legendary glowing jellyfish that float through the air?” Kackel continued, eyes glazing over.

“The very same.” Meatball caved.

“But why?” Misery asked.

“To hide our family fortune from the likes of scavengers, robbers and thieves!”

“Like Tim?” Kackel huffed, offended.

Meatball continued, “there are items that have been in our family for time immemorial. Legendary items.”

“Such as?” Misery enquired.

“I know that this is why Tim Cognito is here. Not for any altruistic reason but for selfish gain!”

“Did you hear me?” asked Misery, “what legendary items?”

“I don’t know,” he attempted to shrug, however he remained restrained, “the challenge of creating the most delicious pasta menu to outdo the ones that came before it became all-consuming. I never actually checked.”

“You what?” Misery was in disbelief.

“That’s right. No member of the Meatball family has been down there in generations,” Meatball insisted.

Kackel, who refused to believe Meatball was ignorant of the treasures nor his assertion that Tim could be anything but a hero, resumed tickling Meatball.

“NOOOO STOP IT, HA HA HAHA, I TRULY DO NOT KNOW!”

“He isn’t cracking on this one,” Misery urged Kackel to stop, seeing she was pushing him over the edge.

Despite being unsatisfied he was telling the truth, Kackel ceased the tickling.

As he regained his breath, Meatball added, “maybe you should ask the Knight. Perhaps they know more than they are letting on.”

Eek! We all put our faith in that good ol’ Tim Cognito, could they just be some big treasure raiding plunderer? Where are Lady Kackel’s affections going to fall? What scary happenings are bound to occur deep in the catacombs? Surely, they’ll lead to more MISADVENTURES!

Leave us a comment here and tell us what other dastardly things might exist down there!

Thanks to the likes of person - literally, that’s their name on here - who suggested the Catacombs as a location way back in February.

Remember you too can be like person and pitch new areas, creatures, characters, and items/spells in the existing threads and see them get added to the Lore of the Land encyclopedia.

Voting closes a week from posting and the next chapter will follow about a week after that… if we can get our act together, ya know?

Cartoon Catastrophes

Had some animation problems in the last few days - which might be why it looks a bit funny in places but that’s all part of the misadventure, right?

Chosen Choices

Anyway this week we’re making good on the distraction of gelatify-ing the hole, the start of Gorkorn’s descent into Beating, Slaying and Trudging and some tickling torture from the ladies of magic. All of these choices have been yours. So keep on voting!

Perilous Polls

This week we’re using Substack’s new built in polling system, a feature we feel was almost made for us. There’s a slight problem though, part of the fun of writing the polls is you essentially get a bunch of jokes in one with only one of them having to be committed to the story proper. There’s a devastatingly short character limit to the polls though so when I wanted to write a joke about the Cupid’s Scarecrow, the mythical scarecrow that causes nearby birds to fall in love, I wanted to write:

Cupid’s Scarecrow, love is literally in the air.

but instead had to settle for:

Cupids Scarecrow, love is in da air.

I really just want people to know that we’re funnier and better at grammar than this would imply. Anyway, I’ve asked Substack if they’ll extend the limit and hopefully they will because this makes things much easier. They will even automatically close after a week.

Shameless Plugs

What’s that? You wouldn’t mind sparing two minutes to read the latest edition of ‘Places I’ve Never Lived’ - you’re too kind!

If you enjoyed this please do one, some or all of the things below:

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Chapter 7

Michael — Sat, 11 Jun 2022 14:11:48 GMT

«First Chapter | Next Chapter> Last Chapter»

Note: This section depicted in the above video

From beneath piles of books, toppled shelves and streams of un-catalogued catalogue cards, Matilda surfaces with a gasp. She is atop the scaly back of the tyrannical Jabberwonky, unconscious from receiving a donk on the head from a giant metal scoop.

“Oh!” Matilda exclaims as she begins to frantically search under the books for the Librarian, “I need her, is she alright?”

In her haste, Matilda had turned to face where the desk had been and still was without taking in the fact that somehow, as if by magic, in the great fall the Librarian’s desk had remained unmoved.

Matilda called into the darkness under a large, no longer upright shelf, “Librarian are you in there? Are you okay?”

“SSSssshhhhhh,” came the reply of the Librarian from behind Matilda, her voice rasping softly, “ThissSSss isssSSss aaa librrarry!”

Matilda whipped around and was surprised to see the Librarian completely unfussed, despite the fuss all around her.

“Librarian, you’re ok despite the fall?” Matilda’s mouth was agape.

“FalllllLL, whatTTtt fallLLl?” the Librarian responded, and without pause added, “annddD whattTt isssSss this Librarian busineSSss? I mayy beeEEe aaA librarianNn buttTt thattTT’s nottTTt myyyY nammmeeeEEe.”

“Well then, what is-” the Librarian cut Matilda off.

“Drew E. Decimelle, keeperrr of thee mobbillLLee libraryyYy attTt youRRrr seerviccCe!” she said with a gleeful creak, that gave way to a succession of coughs.

“Mobile library, but you’re on the back of a monster?”

“I ammmMMm? OoOh yoooOOu meaannNn Jabby? HeEee’ss nottt so baaAAdd jussttt missssSguiiidedDd!”

“Misguided? Misguided?” Matilda shook furiously “At this very moment the only thing stopping the beast from tearing through my town, killing innocent people is the fact he’s asleep! Misguided? How pathetic!”

“Hee’ssSs jusstt misssinffFFffooOrrrmeddd, Dear. Yoouu seeeEe, heeEe getsss conffusseddd, waaannt’s toOo showwWw offfFff to the ottthhherr creaturrress sooo he borrowwWws bookSss, doessn’t matter whattt oneesss anddd startsss to readd themm in publiccc placcessSSs.”

“To be seen?”

“Rigghtt, butTttTt he doesn’ttt undersSsstand themmMm and whennnN heEee retturrns themmmMM they usuallyyYy stiLll have a bookKmarrrk insiidddDe,” Drew E. Decimelle glanced both ways quickly before she leant in to say as if confessing a great secret, “heEee rarellyyy gettsss passstt the tablllee of contennntttssSs.”

“But why is he attacking our town?”

“I don’tt knowWWw buttTt I wouldDd sayyy it’s onnnllyyYy the waYyyY he’sssSss doinnggg ittt thatttTt heEee cann contrrolll, someoneee elssee musttt havveee got himmmMM tooo doo iTtt.”

“So he gets confused easily?”

“OOoooH yeeSss, I haavvee a pilleee of booKks heree forr salllee becausse Jabby ripped parttsss of themmM outttTt in ffrruuusTraaation,” as if like magic in the darkness behind the librarian a spotlight illuminated a pile of slightly damaged books. “Onnllyy a silllver coinnn donaattion!”

Matilda couldn’t believe her luck, she had only one silver coin on her person. She slammed it down on the counter.

“I’ll take whichever one confuzzled him the most!” She said.

“ThatttTt woulddd moOOsst certaiinnllyyY beeEe thisssSss onNNne!” Drew E. Decimelle said, and without her moving in any way the book at the top of the pile floated gently over to the counter before landing with a thump.

Matilda picked up the book and read from the cover aloud, “Beat, Slay, Trudge: One Barbarian’s Search for Vengeance Across the Hidden Realms?”

When she looked back up the Librarian, Drew E. Decimelle was gone again into the darkness “…THANK YOU!” Matilda called out.

“Nnnooo probbbleemmm, Dear,” Drew’s voice echoed as if from a dream “And dddOonnn’tttt ffoooOrggetttt toOOoo taaaakke a caaarrrd, ifffFff you nnneeed toooO borrrrooowww a booOkkK it’llLl commmMe innN hannnNddyyyY!”

There was a pop, and a small tuft of smoke arose from the desk before her. A white library card had appeared. There wasn’t much time to celebrate as Matilda could feel the rumbling of the Jabberwonky beneath her feet. A sure-fire bet that the Wonky One would soon awaken.

Chapter 7: Chewing the Fat, Skewing the Facts

If you want to know more about something mentioned in the story (e.g. a creature, place or person) go to the Lore of the Land:

If you want information about our hero’s characteristics and inventory at the start of this chapter go here and scroll to the relevant chapter: