h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Third bit:


*Buccaneer lays out flat again, with his sword extended out front. He inches forward, tapping the tip of his sword. All goes well until he is almost at the wall. He taps his sword and the niches all move, changing places on some hidden mechanism. One or two of the niches have disappeared completely, to be replaced by new ones. The corpse he was after is now in a niche near the roof, one row to his left.*

last bit:


*Buccaneer taps his sword again. The niches move and the one he is after is now in the middle of the wall directly behind him. Buccaneer taps again. This time the one he is after is near the floor, but one row to his right. Unfortunately, the niche directly in front of him now contains a heavy log and the niche is in the process of tipping it out. *

Now why wouldn't that post as one big post? Jeez!

*The smallest member of the group that was at the table where Affy talked to the man (er, let's call him SM for short) discretely slips out of the door and steps into the shrubbery. He peers at Affy from between some branches, awaiting his opportunity.*

Okay, from this random assortment of twigs and berries I have constructed a primitive rapelling system, which might be capable of lowering one of us down, Peet.

Oh, and just so you know, having just finished reading the Funny Farm Archives, I may accidentally misspell your name, apologies in advance.

*Watches a few birds try to peck at his intricate pulley system*

Hey, shoo! Fly away, bird!

*the judge finally gets his foot out of the chamberpot and tosses it disgustedly into the shrubbery where SM is hiding*

*moves forward, scraping his boot on thr ground to clean it off, and examines the intricate pulley system*

This can't possibly be legal. What? *appears to be listening to someone at his shoulder* It is?

*he fails to notice when a bird settles on his judges wig*

If you want to proceed to the chamber below, why not use the cellar stairs in that hovel across the street?

What's that?

[Lentilla cocks her ear to the ceiling, where the distant sounds of the Judge's conversation filter down to her.]

Hovel across the street, huh? I wonder if that's where the trap door goes?

[Lentilla watches Buccaneer manipulate the Rubic's Tomb for a moment, amused...]

All right, enough of that. Where's that pressure pad again?

[Lentilla crouches down, and retrieves the apple from her pocket. She considers a moment, then tosses it on the pressure pad to her right with Buccaneer's footprint on it. A peculiar clicking sound comes from the wall.]

Nope, that's not it.

[Fortunately Lentilla's well known for her purloining habits. She pulls the chunk of sausage from her pocket and tosses it on another pressure pad, this one to her left. A trap door slides open, revealing only darkness.]

Now we're talking!

[Lentilla does a combat roll across the floor, picking up great wads of dust bunnies along the way and retrieving her sausage. She falls into the hole with a thunk. Silence ensues.]

Oy. I seem to have forgotten the light. There aren't any grues in this universe, are there?

[In the darkness, Lentilla can only feel her way around. She feels a breath of cold air on her face, and heads in that direction. Her toes curl up, expecting to run into a stone block at any moment. She does.]

Ouch!

[Feeling around her feet, she discovers that the stone block is actually the bottom step of a stair. Carefully she heads up the stairs, feeling for every step. Her progress is halted when her head hits what feels like a wooden plank or cover at the top of the stair.]

Ouch again. I think I have splinters in my scalp.

[Fortunately for Lentilla, the hatch is unlocked. She swings it open, and emerges into the dank air of the hovel.]

Phew. Now that's a smell I'm going to remember.

[All the rooms are empty, except for the kitchen, which still has an ancient white refrigerator in one corner. A bloated dead rat is on the brown linoleum floor. Lentilla, never one to resist a refrigerator, opened it up.]

Ewwww... [The ghosts of spoiled food waft from the refrigerator and swirl, wailing, about the room before dissipating, their souls appeased. For some reason, there's a brand-new can of Scottish Kitchen Haggis and a bottle of Irn Bru in the refrigerator. Lentilla takes the can and puts it in her pocket. Disgusted even more by the Irn Bru than by the smell in the refrigerator, she hesitates at first, but relents and takes the bottle as well.]

I'm getting out of here. This is more funk than is healthy for one person.

[Lentilla emerges from the hovel, and joins Affy and the Judge across the street. She fails to spot the man hiding in the imported shrubbery.]

Ah... [Takes a deep breath, dusts off clothing.]

That's quite an apparatus you've got there. What kind of berries are those?

*follows Lentilla*

*goes to retrieve the stashed basket, notices an unconscious man with rather smelly hair and a chamberpot next to him laying next to the basket*

*pauses*

Um, guys, could someone come over here a minute?

*picks up a mufflewhump, concentrates, and puts around the man's wrists, behind his back*

*Quickly stands up and carefully times a jump into the air so that the log rolls by underneath him. Then dives for the floor again as the log triggers every other pressure pad. After the circular blade passes, the flames die down, the trap door closes, the wall clicks and the niches settle down, Buccaneer looks around for the niche with the shiny object. He spots it on the wall to his left. He pushes the pressure pad repeatedly until it appears in the niche just in front of him. He stands and plucks the thing from the corpse with his sword. Before he is able to see what he has, there is a deep rumbling and the walls start moving inwards.*

Oh oh...

Arrrr, where is that trap door switch...

*With only one mistake (resulting in a singed sleeve), Buccaneer finds the trap door and escapes being crushed. A few minutes later, he emerges from the hovel, sword in hand. Looking at his sword, he sees that he has obtained a rather large skeleton key, on a chain.*

Ahoy, mateys!

Ahoy!

Okay, are we all present then? Good!

The tavern idea didn't reall seem to pan out, it looks like. Although I *am* a bit interested in the fact that there's apparently a dungeon of some significant intricacy hidden beneath that tavern. I mean, not even the Rusty Lantern had anything that complicated, it was pretty much "kill discipline crab, kill rat-ant, squeeze the moss, climb the crates, plunder."

The tavern sits on the ruins of Globmoor Prison. *wistfully* It was a thriving concern about twenty years ago, until the Earl of Globmoor fled into exile for reasons which, as his former attorney, I may not divulge.

You dress oddly, strangers. Where are you from?

We're a group of adventurers. I don't know where we all come from specifically, but this particular quest started in the trophy room of the primary building of Crater Labs, Inc. located in The Crater, H2G2 Island. I tend not to tell people where I originally came from as I fear time travelling enemies who could strike at me when I was younger and more vulnerable, but the Crater is my current place of residence.

You seem to know about local lore, sir. Do you know anything about Fear Liath More?

"You dress oddly, strangers."

I've never been the same since the "Queer Eye" makeover...

Oh, this old thing? [Lentilla looks down at her outfit, which seems to be a tuxedo with spats, tails, and a top hat, currently festooned with dust bunnies and fragments of wood.] It was on the floor when I woke up this morning... you know how it is.

I suppose a smudged bikini from a couple years ago *is* a bit odd...

Oh, and for the record: the only reason I have this blue cape is to fend off attacks from a certain Zorkish monster. Seems kinda silly to keep wearing it now that I've lived on Earth for so long, but hey, old habits die hard.

Arrr, how ye expect a pirate to dress? Like Willy Wonka?

*Buccaneer sits down on a rock and pulls out his knife and the piece of wood he was whittling. The shape is looking a little familiar, but it is still not identifiable, other than it's complete lack of resemblance to a 1963 Corvette Stingray.*

*bursts into coughing fit*
*spends some time mopping his face with an elaborately embroidered handkerchief*

Ah, how do you spell that? I think your accent has rendered the phrase unrecognizeable -- And if you refer to what I think you refer to then ceterus paribus it's just as well you mangle it else you'd have been assassinated twice since the words passed your lips.

But have you eaten or drunk? Please join me at the Bung and Beaker, as my guests. They do a fine prime rib of beef. *gestures that the group should accompany him back into the inn* And I will tell you all I know of Bra'knees -- this fair town.

*starts toward the inn* Adventurers, eh? Do you have a solicitor?

A solicitor? No - I usually rely on me cannons to do the askin'. Arrr arrr arrr! Or me sword if I can get close enough.

*glances at Affy*

An some of us be not too welcome inside thar, bein short of booty, like.