Perplexed & Without Direction or Answer

The great Lion lay casually on the stone stage of the Amphitheatre, waiting patiently as Puck approached from afar.

A rolling purr gave greeting to Puck, who bowed his head, sinking to the ground before him.

As was his manner, he gave time for him to speak his discontent - to unburden his concerns and ask then for his best counsel.

Puck confided: "I am perplexed and without direction or answer. So many men, and immortals too, have fallen to grave corruptions.

"Their choices are taking them straight into Hell, and once there they do not know how to escape its confines."

He paused. The Lion seemed to be considering what was being said, although it was not so easy to know this for sure as his eyes were closed all of the time Puck was speaking.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Four Hundred Thousand

"I'm game if you are" Goober said - albeit reluctantly, but trying his very best to sound brave.

He did not like following Puck into Hell, and avoided the lower realms whenever he could. Goober's nature was very sensitive, and sadness, suffering and torment, caused his body to bruise terribly, breaking out in red welts.

"How many do we need to recover this time do you think?" 
"Oh, I'd say around four hundred thousand."
Goober crinkled his brow thinking.
"How many?" he asked again.

"Around four hundred thousand."

Goober could see Puck was serious but his calculations seemed a little off.

"You mean to tell me that you intend going from recovering and recruiting six mortals from the nether-lands, to up the number now of four thousand?"

"Four hundred thousand" Puck corrected him gently. "Yeah, that is what I meant" Gordon sighed.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

That Alien Disease from Beyond

It was appalling to see a sorrowful ghost. Their presence at this gathering had been very meaningful. Under Puck's guidance the six men had learned more after their last death than they had gathered over several hundred.

He had made it his project to help cleanse their souls - but still, old habits pursued, and their astral bodies taunted them with desires that kept them wanting life and yet despising it, all at the one time.

In seeing these ghosts there became a microcosmic glimpse into the immediate deficits within a humanity that was struggling now to navigate its course.

It could not be said that all of Mankind was deteriorating and or moving forward - they were, on the whole, all improving - just not fast enough to outrun the spiritual diseases that were dogging them into the lower realms.

Added to that were the two main concerns: the condition of dear Mother Planet who bears them all, and the infiltration of that alien disease from beyond the natural world, now incarnating in the millions through machines with screens and sound.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Hell is not Real until you get there

Abject selfishness was rife amongst the mortals and coupled with an uncharitable neediness, the instability had worsened. They called this the 'Rocky Horror Syndrome' to mark that time in history when the people had given up their cautions of Hell and turned it all into a joke.

"How can they take anything seriously that is not in the immediate before them?" commented Grievous, shrugging his shoulders and sighing. The gap between Men and Fey had never been wider. Eric, Marley's father, put his hand up to speak.

"How was I to know?" he bleated aggressively, "Hell is not real until you get there - and anyway, it's not at all like a man cares to think about such things at any time...

"... I don't ever want to go back -I know that now- but my body still aches for the things I can't have, even without the flesh to go with it".

He stopped, and his face shadowed with an aspect of genuine shame.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Going into the Dark Side

Grievous, looking over at his Troll Team, stood up slowly, waiting for the nod from Arnold to begin. He was noticeably uncomfortable.

He began: "We also have seen these changes, and, added to this there are too many of all kinds going into the dark side - the caverns of Hell are filling like never before, and both the immortals and men are indefinitely lingering there too long."

This statement weighed heavily on everyone present, because each in their own way had seen evidence of the decline in which he spoke of. Overall the Kingdoms were depressed and fearful - which was uncharacteristic of races whose nature in spirit was so naturally cheerful.

Of course, although unsaid, they all blamed the men and women of the planet for bringing them down.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Ape at the Gate

But now it had come to this. He strained to see what surrounded him in the dark, but could not make out what was real and what was fatigue flying at him.

Strangely lit forms would suddenly appear right in front of his face bobbing up and down, and then flash backwards with a shriek before disappearing.

Worse again were pitch-dark blobs that hovered weightily in front of his eyes, like clouds of squid ink that were blacker than black, drifting frighteningly close, until he pushed their soft cold forms away. He could not sleep, he had to stay vigilant - these things kept coming. Eric shivered with misery.

Puck had forgotten to collect Eric sooner - he had intended to do so but had so many other things on his mind of late.

He checked in with the Ape at the Gate who - being extremely surly - was giving nothing away but attitude.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series