Bags of Beans

Oswald beamed.

He rummaged around in his grimy pocket and pulled out two teeth and a key. He handed over the key.

"You'll find them kept in the shed behind the Piggery. I've got no use for them myself but I will be requiring a reward."

"How so?"

"Well I'm letting them go and facilitating their release so to speak - could have gone elsewhere you know."

Puck looked hard at him and said, "All I've got on me is a bag of twelve beans - quick growing vines - but I guarantee you'll find a use for them for they can reach thirty feet in just under an hour."

"Make it two bags."

"Done! Two bags of six beans each. Just don't go feeding them to your enemies mind, or the Warden will be after you for murder."

"Fer sure" the Troll grumbled, "A shit that Warden is - got no jurisdiction over our kind."

"He does if you misbehave."

Puck turned the key in his hand watching it turn from gold to silver and back into gold again.

He looked up at the furry face still staring at him. "Thank you for your help Sir" he said respectfully. "I did not mean to be abrupt with you earlier. Good luck with your chances, choices and fare!"

The Troll bowed and disappeared.

That was a close one, Puck thought to himself - for moments there he had almost traded away his kindliness too.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

A Little Blurry at the Edges

Time went by oh so quickly for Brogan and Nervina in the realm of fantasy gaming - it had seemed like a midsummer night's dream.

And, as with most enchantments, months were perceived as but a day or two, for it is hard to make sense of time where there never comes the night or a sunrise to go by.

It had been months of chasing avatars and watching their battles, one long magnificent parade of costume and pageantry. The scenery had spectacularly changed with constant surprise and there were hidden trophies and rewards almost everywhere. Yes, this was surely the sport of kings - a realm where no one really got hurt yet could obliterate one another on the common.

Brogan had been 'thinning' during this time - his overall appearance was a little blurry at the edges and he had grown semi-transparent right through.

Nervina had become used to this about his friend ... (the word 'weird' is never spoken or thought of by the Fey, as to them there is nothing very strange when you take it as it is).

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

You are Never Alone in What you Do

Without explanation the Master pulled from his jacket a pouch of mixed herbs and handed it over emphatically to the grateful Fey, adding then, an enormous hug of hello. He then said telepathically:

"Think now of the good men and women, the Fey and the Angels, that each work for this cause - of all of these dear ones, who with Adepts, Saints and Prophets, support you, and this, our World.

"We will not fail, for Life itself is on our task - and it is only those who have chosen the dark path of Death who must perish by the very forces that they themselves do conjure.

"But for those who pledge themselves to the greater compassion, there are allies true, who stretch back in time to protect them evermore. You are never alone in what you do."

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

'Cleansing' Tonic from a Small Crystal Bottle

"Robin!" a voice echoed up from beneath, "hold your stride, I am coming up."

A moment later his mentor was standing beside him. He was spritzing his face and arms with a 'cleansing' tonic from a small crystal bottle. He finished by giving a slight spray to Puck's face, which caught him in the eye.

"Refreshing, eh?" he boomed, trying to be heard amidst the screaming.

Then added: "You look terrible my boy - just terrible."
Well it was true that Puck had not cut his hair in some days, and it dangled waist long, curls and all. He had not rested or meditated either, and his face had only just turned ashen.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

One Door Out

There were parts to Hell that even the bravest would not willingly venture into - ephemeral and undisclosed, with occupants bereft of their humanity, held in a place that is shrouded with screeching phantoms and populated with the excrement of wraiths.

There is one door out, yet all are incapable of finding it - and now await the deportation from the family of Man that they have used so sorely and stolen from.

It was here that Paracelsus would go - to study and help where possible. His charity glowed amongst their fetid space and the warm light he emanated only seemed to cause them difficulty. Even a kind word stung greatly as they were living an existence that perceived everything as being back-to-front and inside-out. Misery became pleasure and happiness caused aggravation.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

"GONE TO HELL"

Goober needed to find Puck in a hurry, but all he got was a note on the fridge door saying:

"GONE TO HELL"

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

I have come to find Master Paracelsus

He mentally searched all of the immediate realms and enquired at the Grand Lodge also, where one did know, and answered: "yes... he is in Hell".

"How can this be so?"

Puck fretted greatly at this thought, which stung, for Puck had loved this mortal for his bold thinking and scholarly ways.

He immediately packed to go back down there.

The road appeared to be more congested than usual - moribund with harrowed and pitiful wraiths - embellished with pride yet withered by selfishness. No one seemed to see him as he passed by the great line trudging slowly towards the fateful gate - a stretch that was half a million or so.

The Ape at the post belched and closed his eyes when he saw Puck approaching. Puck bowed slightly, ignoring the fact that he himself was being snubbed.

This Gatekeeper - named Silius - refused to listen to him.

Puck spoke ignoring the attitude saying:

"I have come to find Master Paracelsus who I believe to be in your care."

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Way back from Atlantis

Puck's seed farm had always been invited to these gatherings - for their interest involved the cataloging of rare and endangered pods and seeds they had retained and traded over the ages.

His family tree was known well, for they had revived the potato during its blight, reinvented the carrot; and importantly transported the seed stores all the way back from Atlantis - whose etheric plant powers were considered far superior and stronger than the material of present day.

They sat around a vast table littered with impressive foods and beverages. Before them lay the papers of concern, itemized to help keep them on topic.

It was a small group of just thirty, with the addition of a notary, who sat recording all that he heard with astounding rapidity.


-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

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

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

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

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

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

Lady Marthorn with the Afternoon Teas

"Bro" muttered Nervina in a rather low and thoughtful voice, "I think I've found a way in."

Brogan got up from his screen and went over to see what Nervina was talking about.

Just then there was a knock at the door - it was Lady Marthorn with the afternoon teas.

Nervina pointed to the cursor, as its heartbeat flashed over a small golden key just won, completing his final level. As he clicked on it, there came a loud humming in the room and the two felt themselves dissolving into space.

Lady Marthorn entered, and found no one present. She simply put the tray onto the desk and carried out the emptied teacups, closing the door behind.

Meanwhile, somewhere in a castle, the humming died down and Nervina looked around astonished at the outcome.

"We did it!", Nervina grinned.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

His Mind went to Azlan

"If Azlan himself could have done anything more to help people see the truth more clearly, wouldn't he have done it by now already without you having to ask him? Maybe you dreamt this meeting with him and it was just a fantasy from your tiring mind and nothing else, my dear Robin?" (Robin was a familiar, friendly name given to Puck, who used to share his tree-house with the species and loved them fondly.)

"Well then" answered Puck somewhat belligerently, "where did the glasses come from in the first place, and with them, their power to multiply themselves? Besides - I know what I know - and it was him I tell you. One day you will have the privilege to take his counsel also, like I did. To stand before him Goober is something you do not forget or get wrong ... his eyes see so far into your soul - if you can do this, you too will just know."

"Well I am just saying that a fact is a fact and most of the players we posted to have thrown them away by now, yet kept the Phoenix issue."

Puck tapped the table trying to regulate his thought.

His mind went to Azlan - and the answer came:

"They can see what is in front of them - they have always been able to - but for some insanity unknown, they are preferring not to."

And then it was that Puck knew what he had to do - he reached into his satchel, drew out the golden envelope and put his own pair on.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

Legend has it that when Jesus was dying on the cross, the robin, then simply brown in colour, flew to his side and sang into his ear in order to comfort him in his pain. The blood from his wounds stained the robin's breast, and thereafter all robins got the mark of Christ's blood upon them.

An alternative legend has it that its breast was scorched fetching water for souls in Purgatory.

Living the False Realities

"I have made an enemy of a man who I find foul and irritating. He controls many people with an insidious performance that appears to be harmless, whilst directing and affecting the lives of the many millions who are now involved.

“Those who follow his work are losing their mental and spiritual acuity, by living the false realities that are so cunningly designed.

"There they wear identities that are nothing like themselves in the real world and come to believe in their fictitious fame with pride and arrogance."

Puck then went on to say: "The disconnect from real virtue, and genuine experience seems lethal to their reasoning.

"Added to this, hundreds of thousands of demonic beings are being sustained by the vitality thrown by this enterprise and the devils are now talking directly to the human players, masquerading as men, inciting acts of random harm.

"Can you tell me how I may work to extradite them from our World - for they have no rightful place to be here?"

Puck continued, catching his breath in between, "Lastly - I have seen souls re-form and the power a man can have who is rebuilt with hope ... can you help me now to retrieve all of those who are captive in Hell and deliver them back unto themselves?"

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series