Just as Queen Cwestalia rose from her throne, preparing to retire to her private chambers – where [[Ogmant]] awaited, anticipating hours of naughty frolic – the doors burst open and [[Prattaluna]] rushed in, and Cwestalia muttered some very unregal words.
[[2<-continue]]
The Kinkordian ambassador lay sprawled across the queen’s bed -– a mahogany four-poster with a canary yellow canopy – wearing nothing but a mask of magenta silk embroidered with gold filigree and clutching a little whip with nine purple flannel tails ... and stroking his ten-inch-long dong as he eagerly awaited the royal romping soon to come.
[[1<-continue]]
Prattaluna was a second-rate seer and mediocre mage who barely passed her Oracle Exams at Phocis Tech, but she was first cousin of Tattali, the High Priestess, who had taken pity on the poor girl and made her an assistant.
When Tattali was called away to care for a sick aunt in Lemuria she asked Prattaluna to fill in, a duty normally carried out by Zoitio, the Middle Priestess, or Elloskette, the Low Priestess. But Zoitio had quit recently to get married and Elloskette had come down with the ague and there was no one left but Prattaluna, who was better than nothing but not by much.
[[1<-continue]]
“Begging your pardon, your majesty,” Prattaluna panted, “but I have received a divine vision of great importance! One of the gods commands you to...”
The queen raised a hand. “Hold on a minute. Which god are you referring to?”
“[[Thulchulu]].”
“Who? I’ve never heard of that one.”
“Me neither. But he’s listed in *Who’s Who Among the Divine Entities of the Universe.”*
[[get laid<-“I see. Well your divine vision can keep until tomorrow. I need to get laid”]]
[[“Go on”]]
Older than Zeus, older than Thanatas, older than Yig-Noggoth, older than Shibburag, older than dirt. Long forgotten, but once worshipped by the Ancient Order of Obsolosts, who lived on an island just north of Atlantis long before the Deluge.
[[2<-continue]]
“But Thulchulu said you must hear the message at once.”
“When Zeus or Thanatas or Shibburag command me, I shall obey with alacrity. But this deity non-entity will just have to wait.”
“But...”
“That is my final word. Go.”
Prattaluna bowed her head. “As you command. I shall return in the morning.”
“Make it early afternoon.”
“Yes, your majesty.”
[[destruction<-continue]]
Queen Cwestalia retired to her bedchamber, where she cavorted with Ambassador Ogmant until the wee hours of the morning.
She awoke around noon and climbed from her bed and strolled languidly to the window, gazing down at her domain, the great city-state of Dunslauffen. But she did not see the gleaming alabaster towers nor the sun-drenched fields of wheat and oats and poppies and daffodils nor the manicured lawns of the magnificent baronial estates nor the tidy cottages of the happy peasants who toiled in the well-furrowed fields.
[[3<-continue]]
Instead her eyes beheld a blackened landscape filled with flattened fields and bashed buildings and mashed mansions and crushed cottages, and streets strewn with the corpses of animals and humans, blanketed by feasting flies as big as buzzards, and above it all stretched a blood-red sky full of ominous blue-black clouds and wheeling vultures.
“Oh shit!” the queen said.
That’s when she realized the foolishness of disrespecting any god, no matter how obscure.
[[“Go on”<-try again]]
“Thulchulu says a prince is being held captive by an evil queen and it’s up to you to rescue him.”
“Which prince are we talking about?”
“Prince Thromboyd of Latendoria.”
“Never heard of him. Who holds him captive?”
“Yothandel, queen of Gloomgolia.”
Cwestalia’s eyes narrowed. “My old nemesis! I thought that bitch had been overthrown by pissed-off peasants.”
[[4<-continue]]
“She was. Thulchulu says she fled to her vacation home on an island called Askandyeshal, but she stopped off briefly in Latendoria to kidnap Prince Thromboyd.”
“And I suppose she’s demanding Latendoria pay a huge ransom for the prince’s safe return?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Oh. Is she trying to settle some old score with the Latendorians?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then what is her motive?”
Prattaluna’s cheeks colored and she replied in a soft voice...
[[5<-continue]]
“Sex.”
Cwestalia raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So this isn’t a little-boy prince, it’s a grown-up prince, and Yothandel fancies him?”
“Yes, your majesty. Although Thulchulu says Yothandel is ‘old enough to be the prince’s grandmother,’ as He puts it.”
“And where exactly is Askandyeshal?”
At the far end of the [[Enshrouded Sea]].”
Cwestalia rolled her eyes. “That figures.”
[[6<-continue]]
A treacherous region where few ships dare to sail, for their captains fear the giant whirlpools and raging storms and nasty sea serpents – and worst of all, the sirens whose seductive songs coax crews to veer their vessels onto sinister shoals, holing their hulls and drowning the deluded men in the deadly depths.
[[6<-continue]]
“And what does all this have to do with me?” the queen questioned. “I have enough problems to deal with right here in Dunslauffen without getting mixed up in Latendoria’s woes.”
“Thulchulu says it’s high time you embarked on another epic quest. And he thinks Prince Thromboyd would make a perfect match for you, and sire a new generation of epic heroes. And you could get another crack at Yothandel and finish her off, once and for all.”
“I have had my fill of quests. And husbands. And Yothandel. I’m staying right here.”
“But Thulchulu has commanded you to go, your majesty.”
[[“Tell him to fuck off.”]]
[[Seek a second opinion]]
Prattaluna gasped, then bowed low and scurried out of the throne room.
[[destruction2<-continue]]
“Go back to the temple and ask the other gods what *they* think. If you can get them to endorse the wishes of Thulchulu, I shall go on this quest. Otherwise, forget it.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that at the present time, your majesty.”
“Why not?”
“My hole is dry.”
[[“I beg your pardon!”]]
“[[destruction3<-Ach! You’re oversharing! I don’t want to hear about your personal issues! Get out!]]
“I’m referring to the little hole in the dais in front of the altar in the temple, which I fill with the sacred hallucinogenic potion that allows me to inhale the mystic vapors that grant my mind access to the astral realm where the gods reside. My communion with Thulchulu used up the last of the potion and now the hole is dry.”
Cwestalia struggled to retain her patience. “So refill it.”
“I can’t. The potion pitcher is empty.”
“Then make some more potion.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Isn’t the formula written down in a book somewhere?”
“Yes, ma’am, it’s in the *Ensorcellpaedia.* But I can’t find it.”
“Have you looked everywhere?’
“Everywhere.”
[[7<-continue]]
“Have you looked in the cubbyhole behind the altar?”
“Yes, your majesty.”
[[8<-continue]]
“Have you looked in the secret room behind the central bookcase in the palace library?”
“Yes, your majesty.”
[[9<-continue]]
“What about the Tower of Shadows?”
“I looked there too.”
[[10<-continue]]
“How about the Chamber of Dread beneath the catacombs?”
“Not there either.”
[[11<-continue]]
“Did you check Tattali’s bathroom?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
[[12<-continue]]
“And the drawer in the night stand beside her bed?”
[[13<-continue]]
Prattaluna nodded. “I even looked under the bed and beneath her pillow and blankets. I was very thorough.”
“I see. Well when the High Priestess returns you shall ask *her* to contact Thulchulu and confirm your vision. And you shall also ask her where the hell she keeps her stuff.”
“But she won’t return for several weeks, and Thulchulu says you must act now.”
“That’s His problem.”
“But...”
“No arguments! You are dismissed!”
[[14<-continue]]
Prattaluna bowed her head. “Very well. But you realize you’re dooming a young prince with extraordinary qualities to a hellish existence at the hands of an evil queen!”
“That is no concern of ... Uh, what exactly are these extraordinary qualities you speak of?”
[[15<-continue]]
Prattaluna let out a dreamy sigh. “In the words of the great god Thulchulu, Prince Thromboyd is ‘heartbreakingly handsome, breathtakingly built, chock full of charm, and has an amorous anatomical attribute of astonishing enormousnous.”
“In other words, a big dong.”
Prattaluna blushed. “Yes, your majesty.”
“Hmm.”
[[16<-continue]]
Cwestalia turned to one of the servants standing nearby. “Trym, order Captain Nakelle to prepare my flagship for a long voyage. And tell Ulderi to gather a contingent of my finest warriors to accompany me on yet another perilous adventure.”
[[17<-continue]]
The flagship *Bexa* left Dunslauffen on a
[[Friday]]
[[Saturday]]
And was never heard from again. Any mariner will tell you it’s bad luck to set sail on a Friday.
[[Saturday]]
And proceeded at a fast clip across several seas, briefly stopping in Lemuria and Mu to take on fresh supplies before rounding the Cape of Capgras and heading into the uncharted waters of the Enshrouded Sea, where the crew overcame [[many obstacles.]][[whirlpools]]
[[raging storms]]
[[sea serpents]]
[[sirens]]
Thanks to Livingstone, a trained seagull who scouted ahead of the *Bexa,* Captain Nakelle knew where the giant whirlpools were and gave them a wide berth.
[[19<-continue]]
Thanks to the superb shipbuilders of Dunslauffen, the *Bexa* possessed a tight and sturdy hull of oak and iron, and rugged masts of brass, and stalwart sails reinforced with Burmese burlap, so the vessel survived the raging storms with little damage.
[[19<-continue]]
Thanks to steam-powered harpoon guns and the remarkable marksmanship of the *Bexa’s* brave sailors, the sea serpents never stood a chance.
[[19<-continue]]
Since all the sailors were female, they were unaffected by the sirens’ songs.
[[19<-continue]]
At last the ship arrived at Askandyeshal, a dreary little island with a rocky shoreline and droopy trees, and Cwestalia disembarked with four and twenty female warriors, expecting [[fierce resistance]]. But they encountered nothing but some bramble bushes that clung to their clothes, and a few chattering squirrels who scolded the visitors for passing too close to their tree and pelted them with acorns.
[[20<-continue]]
A phalanx of fierce fighters or an army of undead or a pack of pit bulls or at least a tall wall topped by steel spikes.
[[20<-continue]]
The warriors came upon a lopsided hut with driftwood walls and a sagging palm-frond roof. Queen Cwestalia drew her scimitar and knocked on the half-hinged door.
It opened.
[[21<-continue]]
“Garnabas!” Cwestalia snarled. “What the hell are *you* going here?”
Garnabas Laxleer was fairly good looking, but not heartbreakingly handsome. And the only thing breathtaking about his body was the panting coming from his lungs whenever he climbed a long flight of stairs. He did possess a modicum of charm, but not enough to compensate for his less desirable qualities. And as for the amorous anatomical attribute of astonishing enormousnous ... the less said about that, the better.
[[22<-continue]]
“Cwesti, darling!” he said. “It’s so good to see you again!”
She lowered the scimitar, but did not sheath it. “Skip the bullshit and answer my question. What the hell are you doing here?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Give me the short version.”
He shook his head. “Same old Cwesti. So impatient. Very well, I’ll tell you my tale of woe.”
[[23<-continue]]
“After you kicked me out I tried to make a fresh start in Betroitia. I met a baroness named Petulanta Maligula and we got along splendidly until...”
“Don’t tell me, let me guess. You...”
[[“Cheated on her?”]]
[[“Ran through all her money?”]]
[[“Drank up all her booze?”]]
[[“Flopped in bed?”]]
“I didn’t cheat. I was just taking lovemaking lessons from experts in the amorous arts so I could please Petchy even more, and she accused me of cavorting with whores!”
“Imagine that.”
[[24<-continue]]
“Oh heavens no! She has so much money, one man couldn’t possibly run through it all! Believe me, I tried!”
[[24<-continue]]
“I only drank to drown my sorrows over losing you, my darling!”
[[24<-continue]]
“She’s insatiable. No one man could possibly satisfy her lusty cravings!”
[[24<-continue]]
“Never mind the excuses,” Cwestalia said. “Get on with the story.”
“She gave me the boot and I went to a tavern to drown my sorrows and someone must have given me a Mickey Finn because I passed out and when I woke up I was on board a rusty, leaky old freighter bound for Shanghai and the first mate was yelling at me to swab the deck and clean out the bilge, and when I refused I got whipped with a cat-o-nine-tails.”
[[25<-continue]]
He smirked. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t like the one we used to use. These tails were leather, not flannel.”
Ulderi gasped, surprised at this revelation of the queen’s kinky side.
Cwestalia’s cheeks reddened and she gave Garnabas a withering stare. “Never mind that. Finish the story.”
[[26<-continue]]
“Well, after two weeks of whippings, fortune finally smiled on me. The ship got caught in a fierce storm and sank off the coast of Grete, but I managed to escape on a dinghy. I had no compass and no idea which way to go, but eventually the currents carried me to this godsforsaken island and I’ve been here ever since, marooned and miserable.”
“Serves you right, you miserable lout!”
[[27<-continue]]
“Cwesti! Is that any way to talk to the love of your life?”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t met him yet. Now let’s get down to cases. Where can I find Yothandel and Prince Thromboyd?”
“I have no idea where Queen Yothandel is. In Gloomgolia, I’d imagine, but I really couldn’t say; I’ve never met the woman. As for Prince Thromboyd, I’m afraid he isn’t anywhere. He doesn’t exist. I just made him up.”
[[28<-continue]]
“Then why in hell did my priestess tell me a god named Thulchulu came to her in a vision and demanded I come here and rescue Prince Thromboyd from Yothandel’s evil clutches?”
He gave her a wry smile. “Would you have braved the treacherous waters of the Enshrouded Sea and set foot on this dreary chunk of wretched rock if you’d known *I* was the one who needed rescuing?”
“Hell no!”
“I didn’t think so. That’s why I asked Thulchulu to tell you a more enticing tale, one that was sure to lure you here. And he agreed.”
“You prayed to a god? You, the devout disbeliever, the adamant atheist?”
He smiled. “Desperation makes believers of us all.”
[[29<-continue]]
“Why did you pick an obscure god like Thulchulu?”
“I didn’t pray to him by name. Hell, I’d never even heard of him. But after all the big-name gods ignored my pleas I tossed up one last prayer, calling on ‘any deity within earshot’ to help me, and that’s when Thulchulu answered. And thank God he did.”
“Well I’m going to give him a piece of my mind!” She raised her eyes to a hole in the roof and glared at the overcast sky beyond. “Listen up, Thulchulu. Just because you fancy yourself a god that doesn’t mean...”
Garnabas touched her arm. “You’re wasting your time. Thulchulu isn’t hearing prayers any more. He’s retired.”
[[30<-continue]]
“Retired? You’re joking.”
“No I’m not. The gods derive energy from those who believe in them, and when the ranks of the devoted dwindle, the gods grow weak. Thulchulu summoned up the strength for one last godly act, for old time’s sake, but now he’s gone back into retirement and returned to the Realm of the Once-Upons to recuperate – and swap memories and tall tales with all the other forgotten spirits of the universe. I was his last hurrah, his swan song, his parting shot.”
“That’s ridiculous! Who ever heard of a god retiring?”
He shrugged. “Who ever heard of Thulchulu?”
[[31<-continue]]
At this point the queen muttered some very unregal words and stormed out of the cottage. Garnabas ran after her, pleading with her to take him back to civilization, but his entreaties fell on deaf ears.
[[32<-continue]]
When Cwestalia returned to Dunslauffen she demoted Prattaluna to Soothsayer Second Class and banished her from the palace, and commanded her soldiers to tear down all statues of Thulchulu throughout the kingdom. Since there weren’t any, that order was easily obeyed.
Then she ordered Herodotel, the royal historian, to make no mention of the Askandyeshal adventure in his writings, and forbade the minstrels from singing songs about it.
Which is why no one in the present day has ever heard of it, and you are not reading this.
THE ENDQueen Cwestalia retired to her bedchamber, where she cavorted with Ambassador Ogmant until the wee hours of the morning.
She awoke around noon and climbed from her bed and strolled languidly to the window, gazing down at her domain, the great city-state of Dunslauffen. But she did not see the gleaming alabaster towers nor the sun-drenched fields of wheat and oats and poppies and daffodils nor the manicured lawns of the magnificent baronial estates nor the tidy cottages of the happy peasants who toiled in the well-furrowed fields.
Instead her eyes beheld a blackened landscape filled with flattened fields and bashed buildings and mashed mansions and crushed cottages, and streets strewn with the corpses of animals and humans, blanketed by feasting flies as big as buzzards, and above it all stretched a blood-red sky full of ominous blue-black clouds and wheeling vultures.
“Oh shit!” the queen said.
That’s when she realized the foolishness of disrespecting any god, no matter how obscure.
[[Seek a second opinion<-try again]] Queen Cwestalia retired to her bedchamber, where she cavorted with Ambassador Ogmant until the wee hours of the morning.
She awoke around noon and climbed from her bed and strolled languidly to the window, gazing down at her domain, the great city-state of Dunslauffen. But she did not see the gleaming alabaster towers nor the sun-drenched fields of wheat and oats and poppies and daffodils nor the manicured lawns of the magnificent baronial estates nor the tidy cottages of the happy peasants who toiled in the well-furrowed fields.
Instead her eyes beheld a blackened landscape filled with flattened fields and bashed buildings and mashed mansions and crushed cottages, and streets strewn with the corpses of animals and humans, blanketed by feasting flies as big as buzzards, and above it all stretched a blood-red sky full of ominous blue-black clouds and wheeling vultures.
“Oh shit!” the queen said.
That’s when she realized the foolishness of disrespecting any god, no matter how obscure.
[[Seek a second opinion<-try again]]