The Hood

"You do know what rhymes with Puck, don't you?" said the Troll, Oswald, rather smarmily.

"Truck?" glibly replied Puck, who was really over that joke and this Troll.

"Look here friend", the Troll began with an emphasis on the word 'friend', "you wouldn't just happen to be related to them Cappuccino mob by any chance of fate, now would you?"

"Do I look like a dwarf to you?" answered Puck a little curtly - he had desperately needed some silence to collect his thoughts in.

Oswald persisted, "what with your name being Hood and all ... I was only thinking...”

"That was a long time ago Oswald" Puck replied, and then added drily, "and besides, we all wore hoods back then - it was the fashion."

"Style still is today I say,” said the Troll triumphantly, as though he had knitted up the dialogue with reason.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

Books were Flying Everywhere

Books were flying everywhere: they came from out of the window above, two storeys up.

"None of these are worthy!" "There is no plot! No finery! No intrigue ... no answer! And the endings are crap!"

Ralph was perplexed, for his grandfather had adored his books and kept the largest library in the suburb.

Thousands of jackets over the years, ordered and catalogued - and now, he was trashing them in some kind of ecstasy of revelation?

The truth of it was that Alfonzo had been losing his sight - his blue eyes were turning to milk - and the books were no longer readable to him. He was fast losing his concentration and his thoughts were a jumble. The same phrases would keep repeating endlessly in his head, making comprehension impossible.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

Thought-booster from Paracelsus

"My energy is going - we have to get out of here", Brogan finally confided with some desperation.

Nervina had been trying on some armaments and had found a battle-suit that fitted him just perfectly; it had a great line and the trims went well with his hair.

The two were getting bored with the ever changing landscape they had lived in and had quite forgotten any purpose for being there, whilst at the same time something from home was calling them back.

It was actually someone from home who was calling them to return.

Puck had been given a thought-booster from Paracelsus that could enhance his broadcast when concentrating. It only worked in short bursts, but it was now sending an impulse strong enough to finally get through and stir reasoning in their minds.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Bonus Points!

Uplifting music piped melodically in the background, the meadow was spattered with flowering vines and hummingbirds. There was a small arched door hidden in this overrun garden ... it slowly opened.

Four times the size of the actual door came a naked Cyclops with a spear in his hand. He roared and rumbled terribly, stumbling onto the flowering bushes. He heaved his way to the spot where a group of very small children sat playing in the grass.

He speared each one of them through the heart and then peed on their tiny bodies.

"Bonus Points!" a voice called out excitedly.

Brogan peered back in through the door to see who was holding the controls this time. It was a young boy not more than ten years of age sitting beside either an older brother or very young father. They both looked very pleased with themselves. Life was "good".

-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