INTERACTIVE STORY #4...
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Pickle moved over to the table for a closer look, but he soon retreated away again. Something on the table was giving off an awful stench!
"A dead bird... charming"
Treguard picked the bird up and looked at it.
"Its a Robin. Probably one of Merlin's puns?"
"Eet ees deesgusteeng!"
Majida turned away and tried to cower on Pickle's shoulder, but Pickle pushed her away
"Well, there might be use for it yet..."
Said Treguard as he put the Robin in his pocket of holding.
"Now, what else have we here?"
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Suddenly they disturbed by the sound of commotion from what seemed to be an adjacent chamber.
Now, dear reader although our own intrepid band of Dungeon-Dwellers couldn't hear what was going on, let me bring to you a summary of what actually transpired...
Lord Fear had just stepped through the left hand door and was greeted by a woman in headphones.
"Oh Mark thanks heavens you've finally come out of that place. We've been after you all for some time but you've all been so immersed in your roles since we announced Knightmare was cancelled and just plainly refused to come out of character. We even tried bringing more and more reality in via the ever increasing presence of Christmas but to no avail. But now, to quote a well known BBC2 comedy series you're BACK TO REALITY!'
Fear, or should that now be Mark, took a seat and sneered at them all.
"You mean its' all over. No more gloating at the kidsies, no more banter wityh Treguard, no more ...you know...with Marta...How long has all this been?"
"Well in 1991 you first started filming with us Mark and four years later the show was cancelled. We are now approaching 2006. Your stubborn refusal to confront the real world has caused us many hassles and charges not least for the technology we have had to pay for."
"Wait some of my memory is returning. These Merlin and Mogred fellows, they came before me so why are they also in this realm you say you have created?"
"Well That's why you were brought in Mark. John Woodnutt who plays both is suffering some form of dementia and we left him to be wandering freely and he's now convinced of both his acting personas."
"Oh...."
Mark was then blanketed and given a cup of coffee wondering which reality was real. As he contemplated things before the vast crew now at Televirtual the 'action' continued in the clue room....
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The clue-object table housed a mince pie, which duly went in the knapsack, a sprig of holly, an approximately cubic box wrapped in colourful paper and shiny ribbon, and what looked like a letter, as well as the tradition scroll. The latter Treguard took and read aloud:
"Take not the pair but its fallen and that bound by his doom's driving force."
"What in the levels does that mean, master?" said Pickle. Majida considered this for a moment before tossing her head in frustration; she got as far as "It's too d-" before Pickle found his hand unaccountably muffling her voice.
Treguard, meanwhile, examined the other piece of paper, recognising Merlin's handwriting and quietly voicing his words:
"Dear all,
Well, what a year it's been! As you can expect, things have mostly been as dull as ever in the Dungeon, but after careful plotting have I got some big news for y- Oh, good grief," he interrupted himself as the penny slowly dropped.
"What is it, master."
"It's a round robin."
"And this is a dead one," said Pickle, beginning to understand. "So let's not take both - just the 'fallen' one. Well, we have. But what about 'that bound by his doom'?"
"Think, you silly sprite. The scroll says the bird's male, which makes close inspection mercifully unnecessary. Now, who killed Cock Robin?"
"The sparrow, bu-"
"With?"
"A bow and arrow, bu-"
"And with what type of knot is it traditional to tie the ribbon around Christmas presents, this one being no exception?"
The others' pennies, whose slow descents had ceased, now completed them in an instant. Taking corpse and (still wrapped) present, they continued on their way.
Meanwhile the headphone-wearing woman was staring into a two-way spyglass. "Yes, your wizardry," she said. "I think he's falling for it."
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"Marvellous!" replied Merlin, smiling into a two-way spybauble. "Keep working on him, Ariadne. I only want the Dungeon Master, his half-witted elf, and my alter-ego to make it through. Keep me informed!" He waved his hand with an exaggerated flourish, and the woman's image disappeared from the bauble, which he hung back on his Christmas tree.
It had been a strange idea of his to turn Ariadne into a television producer, but the 'web of reality' charade was proving a success. Lord Fear had been caught in it, and hopefully the others could be picked off too. But not Treguard, Pickle or Mogdred. If they could get all the way to Winteria, then Merlin was content to deal with them himself.
Merlin closed his eyes and thought about what a wonderful Christmas he was having. True, his Mace-and-Hordriss Father Christmas creation had escaped; and most of the elves had found an old elf portal and fled the workshop; and his spell to turn Pixel the pixie into a Christmas tree fairy had gone most awry; and he'd mislaid some important items; and Treguard was leading a band of party-poopers on a quest to stop him; but this was going to be the best Christmas ever. Because it was his and his alone. Merlin slowly opened his eyes...
...And saw that he'd somehow been transported outdoors. A stern woman was glaring at him across a snowy plain.
"Enough of this!" screamed Aesandre. "Christmas has no place in Winteria, old man. You turned my Turkish delight into turkey, my white wolves into white chocolate, and you've stolen my palace. I demand my domain back immediately!"
"Madam," said Merlin, "You obviously don't know who you're dealing with. You may be a derivative snow queen, but I am derived from the greatest wizard who ever lived. I have chosen to hold Christmas in Winteria, and I'm afraid you're not invited. But I do have a present for you. Spellcasting! L!"
At this point, Aesandre should really have tried to stop Merlin, but she was transfixed by his insanely slow casting of a very short spell.
"E! O!"
With a minimum of fuss, a huge lion fell from the sky and slammed onto Aesandre. "Good boy!" cried Merlin. The lion roared and vanished, leaving no trace of itself or of Aesandre. Chuckling, Merlin turned and walked back towards the palace.
Meanwhile, up on Level Two, there seemed much less to chuckle about...
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"Oh my!"
"Master.. surely we could just leave her here?"
"I'm afraid not, that would be cruelty to lions"
The lion and Aesandre had appeared and fallen onto Majida - trapping both of them under the lion's weight
"Hmm.. but how best to get the Lion off them..... AH! I know - we must use the clues that we just gained so that we dont drag them more than three rooms at most!!"
Treguard took the Robin out of his pocket and threw it at the Lion. The Lion jumped up, grabbed the Robin and skulked off through the middle door
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'And what of the present master?'
'Well Pickle, we have a comatose Genie and Aesendre's something disapeared leaving just some rags behind in the snow. Fetch it for me!'
Pickled scarpered over to the bundle, picked it up and threw it back down in disgust.
'The rumours are true master - she does indeed wears Underwear that is Icy!'
"Ewww, Nasty!" Chorused the crowd of travellers.
Treguard gently placed the unwrapped present beside Majida so that when she woke up she would at least have a reason to shut up, if only for a second while she unwrapped it.
After that, those remaining set off once more and found themselves with not far to go for they had now reached level 3...
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The group walked through the right hand door and they fell straight into a hole in the ground - which led into level three.
The group emerge at the foot of a giant pyramid. each massive block was made of a present. At the top was a large figure.....
"No.. it couldn't be?"
Treguard peered at the figure of the Dreadnought in a santa suit.
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Almost simultaneously a loud peal of laughter was heard and there was a disturbing crash of light and a rather more disturbing bout of flatulence...
Everyone looked at each other, said nothing and blinked, ignoring the stench that had now pervaded the area as they now had a more serious problem:
Merlin, growing impatient, had summoned himself before them and in no uncertain terms requested that either they leave him be or they would soon be hanging from a gigantic Christmas tree...
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[Sorry, it's another long one. I just think it would be good if we could draw the story to a close before the 12 days of Christmas run out...]
Keen to display heroics without resorting to unchivalrous violence, Treguard tried to reason with the once-great wizard. But when he attempted to speak, he found himself quoting carols. He fast became frustrated. Pickle (whose dragon wings had vanished) was also unable to speak - all that emerged was the sound of sleigh bells.
"You see, I am much too powerful," cried Merlin cheerily. "You'll never get Christmas back. It is mine forevermore!"
At that moment, back on Level Two, Majida was unwrapping the present. It turned out to be an egg-timer with a letter M carved on it. But when she tried to examine it, it disappeared...
Only one other traveller had been transported to Merlin's Winterian 'antechamber' along with Pickle and Treguard: Mogdred. And Merlin's magic could not stop him from talking.
"Dungeon Master, listen to me. Just as Merlin expelled me from himself to become good, so must I be blended back into him to mend his unstable mind. You and the elf must form a bridge, connecting me to him. Do you so consent?"
Treguard saw no other choice. "Ding-dong merrily on high," he muttered, nodding gravely.
They repositioned themselves swiftly. Mogdred grasped Pickle's hand; Pickle held Treguard's hand; Treguard reached out to touch Merlin, who was too slow to move aside. The room was instantly filled with a myriad criss-crossing lightning forks, temporarily blurring Treguard and Pickle's visions. When they cleared, they saw that they were alone with a tall man standing majestically before them. He had long dark hair and beard. Mogdred and Merlin had become one. Smiling, he turned slowly to Treguard, who expected to be congratulated. But he got nothing of the sort.
"Fools!! This was my plan all along. I never wanted to balance Merlin's mind - I have used my growing evil to take it over! Now I am powerful enough to make the entire Dungeon quail!!"
The New Mogdred indulged in a very sinister laugh. Treguard, crushed by his failure, staggered backwards... and knocked something over. It was the egg-timer, which had quietly appeared on the floor a little earlier. It had been Merlin's: he'd adapted an old 'pause-timer' to rewind time, so he could enjoy opening his Christmas presents three times.
New Mogdred didn't notice this, and resumed gloating. "And as for Christmas, the Dungeon won't get it back, for I will destroy it altogether! Bah, humbug!!"
At that very moment, the rewind-timer did its work, and the last word was heard three times. By a remarkable coincidence, 'humbug' just happened to be the ironic, self-chosen calling name of one of the Dungeon's most formidable figures.
There was a burst of scarlet light, and Lillith, more irritable and powerful than ever, was woken from a long sleep and summoned to the room...
-
Lillith stared at the assembled mass of Dungeon Denziens before her.
Slowly, one by one they were all being sucked back into their positions before all this had begun. The rewind-timer had been very powerful indeed.
All that is, except Mogred who cackled and proceeded to address Lillith:
"So you see now dear, the Dungeon can now be ours if you wish to join me in my most devious plan yet.
Whilst those nincompoops go back to their relative areas of the dungeon we will have the chance to claim levels 1,2, 3 and of course that little 'storey' in between that I've taken great pains to keep the little fools out of.
So this time Lillith, I not asking for marriage as I did so long ago when you rejected me, you rejected me, causing me to banish you before I myself was deposed.
Instead, I just want you to be by my side as we have the dungeon for ourselves - do you so agree?"
Lillith, paused for a few seconds and adjusted her hair to look its best and then cried out shrillly:
"You fool! You don't realise soon we will both be travelling back also unless we quickly do something to counter this monstrosity of festivity that will make me back to a non-entity!"
After 5 minutes of further squabbling the two finally looked through their collection of spells they had availiable between them - GLORY, BACKFIRE and BUT. GLORY had been never used and so returned to Mogred and BUT and BACKFIRE had been attached themselves to Lillith as she had been summoned after such a long passage of time.
GLORY was the eventual decision but in a very cruel twist of fate it played against the scheming schemers sending them back also but with the added bonus of sending a scroll, detailing all that had happened, to Knightmare Castle to be duly transcribed by Cadrighan the Chronicler....
THE END
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Shouldnt the scroll say
SCENE OMMITED!
Good Story, Weak Ending. Needs more Dawg.
Or an explosion.... perhaps a Zeeky Boogy-Doog
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What do you mean by that, please, Turaga Nuju? Whilst everyone is entitled to an opinion, it would be a help if you explained why you think the ending is weak, otherwise the person who wrote the ending may take offense at their contribution being reduced to such a clipped description.
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GLORY was the eventual decision but in a very cruel twist of fate it played against the scheming schemers sending them back also but with the added bonus of sending a scroll, detailing all that had happened, to Knightmare Castle to be duly transcribed by Cadrighan the Chronicler....
I feel that resolving the situation suddenly with GLORY was too sudden. I guess there just wasnt enough depth to it.
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If this is people's general consensus then I will go back and change things when I get some time.
If not, I will leave it as it is.
I admit it was a slightly rushed job and I hadn't intended to finish it myself but it was within a few hours of the Christmas period being nearly over with no conclusion.
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[I'm content with the ending. It's a relief not to have this interactive story lying unfinished for over a year as its two predecessors were, especially since this one was a seasonal tale. I'd suggest that anyone who is particularly unsatisfied with the story's conclusion submit their own alternative.
Incidentally, I'm about to write an alternative ending, but only because I had some ideas brewing in case the story didn't get finished by someone else, and have enjoyed contributing too much to know when to stop...
"Who dares disturb my slumber?" shrieked Lillith. "I suspect my ex-husband's hand in this, but I do not see him here." She caught sight of Treguard and, recognising no one else in the room, fixed her eyes on him.
"Hark, the herald angels sing!" protested Treguard.
Confused, Lillith swept her gaze around the hall, and her disgust grew. "Christmas? So concentrated in one place? What foul conjuring is this? SILENCE!" she screamed, as New Mogdred tried to interrupt. "This will not do at all. Whether you have caused it, or simply cannot eliminate it, I do not know; but only one thing can end Christmas. Spellcasting: S-A-L-E-S!"
The hall filled with dense, glittering smoke, as Lillith uttered several other incantations that weren't quite audible. When the smoke cleared, the room had been transformed from a Christmas grotto into an indoor market. Julius Scaramonger, Ah Wok and Honesty Bartram clamoured for custom behind stalls piled wide with Merlin's Christmas presents. There were other traders too, and among them was the familiar form of Merlin, fixed in his seller's guise from years earlier. "Supplies and equipment, equipment and supplies!" he exclaimed.
"Master, if Merlin's back, then..." Pickle's question was both interrupted and answered when the old Mogdred strode out from among the stalls and approached his ex-wife, enraged. The traders seemed unruffled.
"I am separate from Merlin again! My plans are ruined!" screamed Mogdred. "You will pay dearly for this!!"
"You won't pay dearly over 'ere, generous discounts on all items!" chimed in Scaramonger from across the room.
"My magical endeavours have weakened me. I'm returning to my sleep," declared Lillith. "But not alone." She looked Mogdred in the eye. He'd hardly changed. And he could 'cross the zone' like no other man she'd ever been with. She leaned close, but some residual magic stopped her from taking him.
Treguard realised what Lillith was trying to do. Spotting a piece of mistletoe on the icy floor, he grabbed it and, with a thrust of his sword arm, flung it towards Lillith and Mogdred. As it passed over their heads, she sealed their reunion with a kiss, and Mogdred was powerless to escape as the couple vanished.
"Sleep in heavenly peace, sleep in heavenly peace," Treguard called after them. And Pickle, knowing that Merlin's carol spell had worn off earlier, broke into a grin.
It took a few days for Treguard to confirm that Merlin's changes to the Dungeon had been undone, and by that time, Christmas Day had come and gone. In the hope that there were still lights up in Wolfenden and a little mulled wine waiting for him in the Crazed Heifer, Treguard and Pickle slipped out of Knightmare Castle and headed for the tavern.
"Is Hordriss joining us, Master?" asked Pickle as they trudged through Wolfglade.
"No, Pickle. He's still busy installing Sidriss as the new queen of Winteria. But he promised to drop in on McGrew's Hogmanay celebrations. Any more questions?"
"Well actually, yes. Will Merlin ever try to steal Christmas again?"
"Who's to say? But if he does, we'll just unite and stop him once more."
Treguard took a breath of chilly air. It was true that he hadn't marched out, sword gleaming, and single-handedly saved the Dungeon. He'd done something far more honourable: he had saved the Dungeon as part of a team. If there was any mulled wine left at the pub, Treguard knew he'd earned it. He noticed that the elf was dawdling.
"Come along, no time for pooka-watching. And if there's an elven short-cut nearby, do tell me. We do want to be there for happy hour, don't we, sprite?"]
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