Dead Men Walking III : Martin's Tales : Exile Intermission

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Dead Man Walking

Part III of III | Part I | Part II

This is the third episode of "Dead Man walking"

Martin has hit to ju ju juice hard tonight, so has kept it pretty short this time.

“I would like to be able to tell you what Darrian’s men beheld as they entered that strange and enchanted castle. I would like to say that “tall gothic arches curved up above them as an impressive domed ceiling, tiled with thousands of tiny mirrors, each reflecting their awed faces, took their breath away.” Or perhaps “As Darrian’s men entered the castle, they were confronted with mounds of glittering gold and silver and there sitting upon it was a dragon, as green as June River Nephrite.” Or even “As this brave party passed through the threshold of the keep, there was a thunderous crashing sound as a mighty portcullis slammed down, barring any hope of returning to the world of the yellow sun from which they came.” But alas, I can not say any of these things. You see, none of the men returned to tell of their doom."

“The reports which later came from some of Gorgon’s bodyguards who waited outside the Hundred Year Castle, were gruesome. As they waited for St Darrian and his men to return with the mysterious magical weapon, they heard sounds of bones cracking, rivers of blood crashing like waves upon the floor, brave and mighty men scream and wail like banshee bitches and this went on it did, on and on for hours. Worse still were the hideous creatures that fingered and thumbed at the walls of the evil castle, seeking a way out into the world of yellow sun and sensibility. Gorgon and his men could take it no more and were ready to depart in fear, when they heard the voice of Darrian.”

“”Run, run, save yourselves” he was shouting, but his voice was muffled and misshapen and they did not thread his meaning. Instead theay came up to the castle and the source of the voice. There emerging from the castles great maw was Darrian. Or perhaps it was not Darrian, although it shared some of Darrian’s look. No this thing perhaps was once Darrian but had now been transformed into a hideous throbbing mound of broken flesh and bones, squirming and riving its way desperately for the exit along the castles blood slicked flagstones. With contorted face and arms the thing that was Darrian reached up toward Gorgon’s men to let out one final moan of desperation before the castle swallowed him and all his men away, vanishing once again from the world.”

“My friends and allies, you can choose to believe this story or not, for neither the telling or listening make something a truth. But also, do not be quick to doubt the strangeness that exists in the world, for I have seen many a wonder with my own eyes, and if you patron this Inn often enough, you might hear me tell of some of this. But if you are a skeptic, and you seek proof to my words, go to the Sage of Merakov, who dwells deep in the caves of the Elgra Mountains, and inquire of him the truth of Darrian and his dead men walking. Of course he will tell you the story is false, for he has his reputation as a worldly sage to think of. But watch him avert his eyes as he refutes my words, notice the slight pause in his speech, watch his face flinch with a hint of trepidation, and observe the nervous tightening of his fingers on his amulet. Then you will think to yourself “this man’s knowledge is deep but he hides the truth from me.” "And that is the way with Sages my friends, for the deeper the candle burns, the less light it sheds."

So ends the tail of Dead Man Walking.

, you have been listening to Martin de Brune (aka Wayne Kington) at the Apple Tree Inn.

Author: Martin de Brune (aka Wayne Kington)

created: 14 February 1998 | Last Updated: January 18, 2002

	The Chelon Rose
	Act 2: the Invasion
The Chelon Rose's Apple Tree Inn Our Keep Our Land Our People Our Culture Our Wilds Our Tomes Us, and Our Stories.	The Tales of Martin of Brune Dead Man Walking Part III of III \| Part I \| Part II This is the third episode of "Dead Man walking" Martin has hit to ju ju juice hard tonight, so has kept it pretty short this time. “I would like to be able to tell you what Darrian’s men beheld as they entered that strange and enchanted castle. I would like to say that “tall gothic arches curved up above them as an impressive domed ceiling, tiled with thousands of tiny mirrors, each reflecting their awed faces, took their breath away.” Or perhaps “As Darrian’s men entered the castle, they were confronted with mounds of glittering gold and silver and there sitting upon it was a dragon, as green as June River Nephrite.” Or even “As this brave party passed through the threshold of the keep, there was a thunderous crashing sound as a mighty portcullis slammed down, barring any hope of returning to the world of the yellow sun from which they came.” But alas, I can not say any of these things. You see, none of the men returned to tell of their doom." “The reports which later came from some of Gorgon’s bodyguards who waited outside the Hundred Year Castle, were gruesome. As they waited for St Darrian and his men to return with the mysterious magical weapon, they heard sounds of bones cracking, rivers of blood crashing like waves upon the floor, brave and mighty men scream and wail like banshee bitches and this went on it did, on and on for hours. Worse still were the hideous creatures that fingered and thumbed at the walls of the evil castle, seeking a way out into the world of yellow sun and sensibility. Gorgon and his men could take it no more and were ready to depart in fear, when they heard the voice of Darrian.” “”Run, run, save yourselves” he was shouting, but his voice was muffled and misshapen and they did not thread his meaning. Instead theay came up to the castle and the source of the voice. There emerging from the castles great maw was Darrian. Or perhaps it was not Darrian, although it shared some of Darrian’s look. No this thing perhaps was once Darrian but had now been transformed into a hideous throbbing mound of broken flesh and bones, squirming and riving its way desperately for the exit along the castles blood slicked flagstones. With contorted face and arms the thing that was Darrian reached up toward Gorgon’s men to let out one final moan of desperation before the castle swallowed him and all his men away, vanishing once again from the world.” “My friends and allies, you can choose to believe this story or not, for neither the telling or listening make something a truth. But also, do not be quick to doubt the strangeness that exists in the world, for I have seen many a wonder with my own eyes, and if you patron this Inn often enough, you might hear me tell of some of this. But if you are a skeptic, and you seek proof to my words, go to the Sage of Merakov, who dwells deep in the caves of the Elgra Mountains, and inquire of him the truth of Darrian and his dead men walking. Of course he will tell you the story is false, for he has his reputation as a worldly sage to think of. But watch him avert his eyes as he refutes my words, notice the slight pause in his speech, watch his face flinch with a hint of trepidation, and observe the nervous tightening of his fingers on his amulet. Then you will think to yourself “this man’s knowledge is deep but he hides the truth from me.” "And that is the way with Sages my friends, for the deeper the candle burns, the less light it sheds." So ends the tail of Dead Man Walking. , you have been listening to Martin de Brune (aka Wayne Kington) at the Apple Tree Inn. Author: Martin de Brune (aka Wayne Kington) created: 14 February 1998 \| Last Updated: January 18, 2002
	© Skabo

The Chelon Rose

Act 2: the Invasion

The Tales of Martin of Brune

Dead Man Walking