It's a Rhondulus

The opening looked a lot like a sea anemone - the sphincter was made up of triangular membranes that quivered and contracted when touched. Brogan gingerly peered into the hole, using the wand that he still carried, and poked until it extended a little wider. It was a window alright, but very hard to see into - he wanted to glimpse the real General and find where he was operating out from.

The weight of the beast's tail might collapse down upon him at any moment. Nervina came to look over his shoulder into the portal - his eyesight was superior to detail, and very good seeing through the dark as well.

"My God" he exclaimed stepping back fast, "it's a Rhondulus controlling the General...".   He whispered then: “and not a mortal at all”.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

The General's Portal

Brogan was looking to spot the General's window. It did not seem to be in any place obvious.

Nervina tugged on the cord and pointed to the Dragon's behind. Brogan ignored him - thinking this to be but a jest - but Nervina persisted.

Moving a little closer they could see that the General's portal was actually positioned in the rear end of the mount; and had it not been that her tail was resting raised, it would have been concealed most perfectly.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Wardens of Phoenix

After a few minutes of great speed the General dismounted, giving his she-dragon a massive slap on the rump. His armory matched her green-gold scales and both wore the same insignia of the Wardens of Phoenix - the double-headed serpent.

Coming to rest high on a mountain top, in full view of the endless planes of terrain below, Nervina and Brogan could see every side around for miles and the ground battles continuing beneath them.

The air above was congested with missiles and flames, from the characters shooting each other with graphic outfall. Spitfires were hurling howling projectiles, filling the landscape with stupendous flare. This had to be one of the most uppermost parts of the region to obtain such a fantastically animated overview.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Dragon's Wings Heaved Powerfully

A well-known government official went flying fast past Brogan. He was quick to recognise this man from the news he had seen on TV when he was alive. Very hurriedly he caught hold of the tail of the dragon that he was riding on, and only just in time to trail him from behind.

Nervina managed to shadow the guy also, as the two had a fine cord attached to one another's belts, contrived so that they could stay together wherever the pursuit might take them.

The dragon's wings heaved powerfully, thrumming the non-air with a bass-like vibration, creating an updraft in the dusky spangled non-sky. The General was riding her hard and fast, in a frenzied rush, speeding through the scenery as if there were no tomorrow.

Brogan had been hoping to hook onto a societal figure for he was fast getting bored of the everyday dialogue that was chattered all around him. This could prove interesting at last.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Head of Smoke

"I first met Phillip Marsden at Basingstoke - he had a head of smoke back then, vacated with some demon inside that he collaborated with. He was the husband of Lady Marthorn whose family had long owned the estate they were then fighting in. His power over ordinary men was uncanny and unfair. A fey could never get away with such liberties - it was as though he were immune to the karmic interplays that usually could quash such tyranny."

Puck continued: "He's been quiet up until now, probably spending these past years in Hell before resurfacing. I know he appears cordial, but I have seen inside and know his nature - it is consuming and wilful without conscience - he values nought that is not for himself. Worse still, as a man he is a genius, and the demon that binds to him has the venom of Klingsor and the ability of Abraham."

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Some Things are so Natural they are Effortless

Puck was lying down on a picnic rug at the base of a broad tree with Marley in his arms. Some things are so natural they are effortless ... and loving is one of them.

Sliding back into familiarity was simple for them both, especially as each had held the other's secret and quietly yearned for that same company. It seemed that the past had melted away in this moment and that Marley and Puck had both re-found themselves.

He leant back placing one arm behind his head and said, "The universal salve is salvation".

She crinkled her brow and laughed, completely ignoring any depth this comment might have.

Marley loved the way Puck contemplated things philosophically, but rarely understood what he was on about. She trusted in his thinking all the same.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

You could quite easily find his Window

The hues there were different to earth colors, and in strong contrast to the mainstream spiritual worlds he had known before. Most scenes were contrived with themes and it was like being in a dream that was more fanciful than even dreams could be.

But what was more fun again was finding the windows - and everybody had one.

By following the Avatar you could quite easily find his window once you started to look for it - and there you could see through to the character who was actually driving him - which gave a whole new meaning to the 'graphical interface operating systems' and the Microsoft word termed 'Windows'.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Catching a ride on a Dragon

"Come, I want to show you."

Brogan had also discovered a very fast way to scene change, going huge distances within the blink of an eye.

All he had to do was to make contact by touching a character (who could not see him) and 'ride' behind going through the levels and terrain that the avatar was passing through.

He could jump from one to another until they went offline and disappeared, or else dismount when he decided to leave to explore the place he had been taken to.

Best of all he could catch a ride on a dragon, tank or even a cloak, and the visuals were absolutely amazing as they sped through the colorful landscape.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Guardianship must go on

Deep down he also could recall what the Azlan had shown him of the vision for Mankind, and it was noble, he reflected.

"They waste too much time,” the Gryphon observed shaking his head.

"They do" nodded Puck.

"Yet they give time to much also."

"They do" consented Puck.

"All the World revolves around these brothers... the Guardianship must go on."
"Indeed" he solemnly agreed.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Thoughts of Men are Powerful

"The thoughts of men are powerful", the Gryphon prophesied, "and yet there is little thought given to this most powerful of truths".

Puck bethought that the word "powerful" should not be used twice in a sentence. He did not like repetition.

The Gryphon spoke emphatically, shaking his head and repeated out loud very knowingly, "they are powerful".

Puck was undecided of this - so far the thoughts of men had not seemed to amount to much: a concordance of vanity, bloodlust and piff.

The presence of the Gryphon had rubbed off on him and he quickly corrected himself by committing his own harshness to an inner apology.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

He did not approve of Puck

Puck was chewing on a caramel and a piece got stuck in his teeth. A Gryphon was sitting pensively beside him - his wings glistened at the edges and his spiky whiskers protruded from a wise, elongated chin that was gnawing on a caramel also. Puck had brought him a bag full. Both were enraptured by melancholy.

The Gryphon's counsel had always been sober and dependable, yet with that he cautioned and dismissed far more than he encouraged. He did not approve of Puck, and the ways he would take to get somewhere.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

There were Sylphs Everywhere

The flickering of the light and shadow in the glade had made Nervina slightly dozy and this head massage was incredibly relaxing.

"Nervina!" This time he felt a jabbing sensation sharp beneath his foot - Brogan had just poked him with a wand he had found abandoned on the walk.

Nervina shook himself and looked up at his friend and then around for the Sylphs who had since evaporated from sight. He soon saw that he had been lying in a filthy ditch, and there were leeches crawling all over him. Brogan started to pick a clot from his hair; the black slugs were holding onto his skin, plump, dark and persistent.

This was nothing like the experience he had been immersed in moments earlier.

"Bro" he said, beginning to explain ... "there were Sylphs everywhere, and they were ... tantalising."

"Girls?" Brogan laughed - "You?" he laughed again.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

His Head Rested on a Pillow of Downy Moss

Nervina was surrounded by a sweet, cool, beautiful green light.

His head rested on a pillow of downy moss and beneath him was a tangle of soft fern.

He had closed his eyes momentarily to ponder the conversation he had just overheard and opened them to find ten sylphs watching him as he lay there.

They were each very gentle beings and the sunlight played with their silvery hair and glanced off their satin white skin. Their ethereal robes exposed but small peeking breasts, illumined by the tender light without. Their young faces were genuine and caring. He could hear Brogan's voice calling him from afar but was so transfixed by his attendants that were smiling at him most favourably.

One was massaging his temple - her hands were smooth and fine, and cool to the touch - another had brought a silver tray of sweets. He no longer felt the desire to leave any time soon.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Two for One

"Two for one?" he said questioningly and then nodded with approval.

"Only for a limited time" the caped guy replied sardonically. 

"I understand,” replied the other, nodding his head.
"Why now?"

"Prison's running a bit short on workers - need to up the numbers fast ... they are just on the eighties, but we need then close to a hundred percent if we are gonna make the deadlines."

"Gotcha."
"You find 'em, I'll catch 'um."
They both laughed.
"Got the gear?"
"Waiting and ready for delivery."
"I'll message you as usual with their IDs."

And with that the two just vaporised out of the area. In this world, the minute someone exits the game they immediately disappear.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Bloke in a Purple Cape holding a Wand

Nervina could hear low whispers - the kind that was all a growl and a mutter – voices that were contaminated with conspiracy.

It was coming from two men who he had almost tripped over when making his way to the rise. As usual, they could not see him.

He decided that they looked as though they were up to something - a little more than the bang and blasting that was going down everywhere else on the terrain. Nervina sat down in the covered ditch to join them and listen in.

"Two for one" said the bloke in a purple cape holding a wand. He was dressed as a 'Land Lord’, which showed some authority in Phoenix, although his voice seemed coarse by comparison to his decorated self.

The other fellow was more plainly attired in army greens, and in his 'aura' shone many rewards that he had gained. He seemed younger than the first man, but his voice was quite frail.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

His Prime Method of Keeping Track of People

Not all hopes are harmful or cumbersome to take on - in fact most contribute to build up a soul - but some create itches, pin-pricks and aches - just depending on the weight and the message that they bear.

However, in the case of Puck it was his prime method of keeping track of people. He could usually sense their whereabouts and how they were travelling, from his own small note he had placed on them.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Overwhelmed by his Hope-notes

One time Puck had wandered into a Baptist ceremony in a small outback chapel. He had been keeping an eye on a poor soul there who was so overwhelmed by his hope-notes that he had the look of a would-be suicide written all over him as well.

But then, with the flash of brilliant consciousness he decided there and then to give himself up to God - and curiously, they dropped right off him, all shedding to the floor. He walked out of that Chapel feeling truly born again with his burdens now gone.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Mortals & Immortals Pin Hopes on People

Puck had pinned many hopes on Brogan from the first. Folk might think that is only an expression, but to the Fey it is a truth that they can see quite visibly.

Mortals and Immortals pin hopes on people everywhere, and some are so cluttered with them, they can look like they are wearing coats. They can even be read.

There are those that are more promissory karmic exchanges, but in the main, they are sentiments from mother to son, friend to friend, or from the public to the famed (and their burden is heavy).

These small spiritual post-it-notes travel all about them: with messages of expectation, desire, wish, want and vision for betterment.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

She Awoke with a Choking Sensation

Marley desperately needed to talk with someone, but
she didn't know whom to turn to.

It was only after she had returned back from the Island that it had dawned on her how unsavoury that time with 'the creature' had been. She would catch herself repeatedly thinking of him.

She soon developed nightmares where he would appear in the dark around midnight, pressing down upon her until she awoke with a choking sensation that left no breath to call out with.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

The Lion was Singing Still

The Lion was singing still. But now the song had once more changed. It was more like what we should call a tune, but it was also far wilder. It made you want to run and jump and climb. It made you want to shout. It made you want to rush at other people and either hug them or fight them.

— C.S. Lewis, The Magician’s Nephew

Product Placement was Big

Product placement was big. Coke cans and chicken wraps, vending machines - even zeppelins floated by conveying trademarks and slogans branded from the 'real' and very commercial world that was its parent.

Brogan had also wondered where Nervina now was and had gone the opposite direction in looking for him. He came upon a cock fight - which was one of the ways things played out in deciding small defeats - lower level members would use dogs, birds or even wild animals, pitted against each other to the death. The killing took place in small outdoor circular 'theatres' where the matches in the games were held.

There was blood everywhere, and a chicken torn at the throat was running around spurting onlookers from his spraying wound.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Empress of China eating a McDonald's Burger, Riding on a Harley

A cold wind passed through that was so strong that he almost fell over. Then came such a loud rumbling, he had taken for thunder, until he saw a tank fast approaching towards him. It was a military tank, painted with bright symbols and fierce emblems.

One of the characteristics of WAR was that not only was identity untraceable, but also time itself - it blended unashamedly time periods from history and myth and combined them altogether.

There you could find an empress of China - eating a McDonald's burger - riding on a Harley; a Marine walking through early Egypt, conversing with the Pharaohs in the marble baths of Thebes.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

A Penchant for the Arts

He had tried to 'sense' where Brogan was now, but the noise around him interrupted his clairvoyance. There was a constant sound of a metallic clinking - like coins dropping, followed by whispers and shouts coming from directions all over.

Every now and then a character would ride or fly by - either pursuing or fleeing another.

Disorientated he moved towards a statue that was standing central to the courtyard. It was extremely tall - about fourteen feet high - and looked to be made of bronze. It was of a man sitting on a world globe that was carved in marble and had the countries of Earth inlaid in gold. Out from his head sprouted two intricate and tall antlers, like those of a deer, or branches of a tree, and they had small, cute cherubim babies hanging from them like fruit, attached by umbilical cords connected to the spikes.

Nervina thought this embellishment was very nice - he had a penchant for the Arts and often enjoyed making his appraisals.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

No Orbit, No Vitality, No Soul

Nervina had known from the very moment he had pushed through into the game of WAR that he had landed himself within a quasi zone, which was no more and no less real than any other of the astral realities he had encountered.

Such realms appear in many aspects to share realities of the real worlds - and draw their substance and design from the concepts and models within living existence.

And although tangible, they are no more real to life than a photograph is to its original - or a mirror to its reflection.

The plants there do not grow or die, the mountains do not wear down, and the sun never rises or falls. There is no orbit, no vitality, no soul.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Every Surface Soft

Inside his new home he had yearned for comfort: and every color was to be soothing to the sight; every picture, pleasant; every surface soft; every fragrance, fresh. He had exchanged the chrome black and white decor for something 'warm' - that his home might become oblivious to the sharper edged worlds without.

This time Puck had chosen a location near an Elvish Bakery - a fine kitchen that delivered to his gatehouse daily a tray of sweet and savoury baked goods. He had a hatch carved into the side of the adjoining tree with a small arched door, where the deliveries could be placed whilst awaiting his collection.

With his bearings now returned to him, so also, was his way forward; and in no time Puck was prepared yet again to venture back out into the World and the travails that lay ahead.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

A Security Feature of Ten Watchmen Trolls

Opposite the entrance, down the far end of the hall hung a large impressive portrait. It was cradled in a carved dark brown frame of wood, expertly crafted, depicting small creatures and flowers.

The painting's varnish lustred like amber and the entire artwork stood six feet high. Its subject was of the Azlan -and his presence seemed to be invoked through the brushstroke alone - it was serenely powerful to gaze into.

Around the perimeter of the forest Puck had installed a security feature of ten watchmen Trolls.

He had also created a magnetic wall surrounding, which repelled force with the same velocity that came towards it - unless relaxed by an invisible key.

Stunned birds that hit the wall flying would propel back into the forest beyond, and stray dwarves would stand watching this go on, just for the laugh of it.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Deeper a Magic is, the More Normal it can Appear

Sometimes when deep magic is before you, it can be taken as something quite ordinary. Only when looking back does one question what had just taken place, and make note that it had been queer or unusual. The deeper a magic is, the more normal it can appear.

For Marley this was one of those times, as she stood and stared at the creature before her - half man, half beast - almost attractive ... but no, she would not let her thoughts take her there (as he had hoped) - for it did not, and would not, could not, feel natural.

His chest shone with the oil that had dripped down in trickling beads, as the girls began front and back to smooth it into his leathered skin.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Oiling his Antlers

When Marley walked in on Marsden, she found two young women oiling his antlers.

This time the stag-headed creature was no temporary vision. The sight of him was plain to see, and he was seated on the side of a black marble spa (the style of the five star hotel was lavish Italian Renaissance) in the enormous bathroom adjacent to their suite.

She had not heard anyone entering their apartment earlier - however the two semi-clothed women stood there beside him stroking and rubbing his horns.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

A Meditation Room & an Enormous Bath

Everyone had said what a sad Puck he was ...

He felt like a failure: his cow still gave no milk; two of his companions had gone missing; the girl he was enamoured with, was dating the bane of his life, who, was currently succeeding in a world take-over. 

Admissions into Hell were still rising and the numbers of the 'fallen' were increasing too (the ones who never make it out of the Abyss).

Dismay was strangling any hope that he had left. Puck had even stopped finding mirth in Goober's quips about the little cat that still tailed him.

He needed a plan - or maybe a holiday - or both. It was difficult to stay focused when he already felt so defeated. Perhaps he had been living with ghosts for too long?

First enterprise was to find another tree-house - one with a meditation room and an enormous bath. A place to do some serious thinking in.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

They must have been Mortal Children

The next thing he realized was that the ground did not feel firm at all beneath his feet. But this was just a feeling, he told himself. Where on earth was Nervina?

He heard a noise come from behind him and turned to see that it was a man in uniform running up fast towards where he stood.

He felt sick and then faint - this was not turning out to be a great day.

Just before the fellow had caught up to him, he heard the cracking sound of a shot firing and with that, an explosion - the man crumpled at his feet vaporising right before his eyes.

To his left Brogan could hear the sound of laughing.

"Yes!" a young voice had called out, whooping some more.

Brogan instinctively shot a glance to where the voice had come from, to see a glass window in one of the courtyard walls. Going up closer he saw two faces looking through from behind. They appeared to be only children.

His curiosity led him right up to that window and he peered through. Two boys, around the ages of eight and ten were staring back but did not seem to acknowledge his looking at them. Brogan was very used to not being seen these days and supposed that this was one of those times. They must have been mortal children who, like most of them, lacked the ghost vision to see him.

Both boys had chip packets on their laps, and were jumping up and down on what seemed to be a couch, showering crumbs, sitting in a living room with a TV running in the background.

He stood and watched them for a while. They seemed happy. One started wrestling the other; trying to grab hold of something from his hand ... it was a game controller.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Continuum Lived in Him

There was someone moving from behind the stone wall - they did not show themselves.

Brogan jumped. His nerves had not been the same, ever since he had been murdered – he had trust issues and some residual anxiety.

Edging slowly away, he tried to figure out where he was exactly, and how he had got there - and, for that matter, where had Nervina got to?

Of course he knew he was fine and would always be so. He did realize how life goes on, with himself amongst it, wherever he was in the Cosmos. There were good days when he felt impenetrable, and the continuity of consciousness that death does bring. Continuum lived in him. And yet, a sudden shock or change bothered him terribly.

This place was uncannily different – he could see it from the first. All of the colors seemed brighter for one thing - whilst oddly, there was no smell. Funny thing, you can live with smells all around you and not really think about their presence, but their absence indicates a sterile environment, one that bears no life whatsoever.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series