Four steps over the edge

[Fort]

Frall sat there, shifting in his seat uncomfortably as he watched the grizzled northeners down their shots of vodka.
There was always a thrill in betting, always a sense of adreniline when you knew your next meal was on the line, this was how Frall lived, and this was how he was going to earn his way out of this hell-hole.

"Fuu...fuuu...fuu..." stuttered the more intoxicated of the drinkers, pointing skywards with deliberation. The crowd stepped back as he swayed in his stool; Frall's heart stopped in his chest, his grubby coins held firmly in his sweaty palms, NO! He was so sure about this bet, he was positive about winning, he had sensed it.

The young oracle gulped and closed his eyes, divulging into the nether, swimming in the informative pool of revalations, breathing unending, in deep procession. Yes, he could smell it, the stench of whiskey and vodka, a strong stench - much stronger, the bet simply couldn't end yet!

CRACK. With aggressive furore, the intoxicated drinking partner brandished the bottles in both hands and cracked his opponent on the head - in seconds the dingy tavern was brawling over the winner of the contest.

Frall shrieked as a bottle flew overhead and nearly hit him in his weasly face. Crawling under the table and sucking his thumb, the oracle reasoned that the prediction came out correct, now if only he could smell, or even HEAR the future, that would help him infinitely.

"Mummy," he whispered as his table was overturned and a short, hairy man flew overhead.
Hands and knees perpindicular to the adjacent floor, the smellacle crawled his way over to the door, gibbering slowly to himself all the while.
"Just a little closer," he murmured, "please, please don't stab me, please..."

A horror beyond imagining stopped this train of thought immedietely, completely out in the open, knelt in front of the doorway - it began to open.

[Battlewalrus]

( I'm joining if thats okay)

[Battlewalrus]

Frall gazed at the thing. Standing 5/4 or about, it was possibly a man, but so smeared with dirt and other things better left unmentioned (poo poo LOL!) that it was not easy to know. The man was leaking various fluids from every visible orifice, and smelled like an open sewer.

This could possibly be attributed to a walrus skin dangling from the mans head, its teeth stuck deep into his cranium. Its eyes glinted with a strange intelligence, that made Frall's nose tickle like Mr. Tickle, but he dismissed it as the thing leered towards him

"He-e-loooooo hu-hu-mannnnn, do you wi---iii-shhhh t-ooo engage in kiiiii-sssss-iiinnggg??"


*************

Carl screamed.

He had lots of reasons of course, misery, stress from his high wired accountant job, because his wife wanted a divorce, but mainly, because he was plummeting towards the ground.
Suicide had seemed like a good idea, but when half way through falling towards the street of New York, he stared falling towards what looked an awful lot like snow, was rather unnerving it didn't seem real and yet he was.

*SPLUMFF*

Carl struggled to his feet and winced at the pain in his ankle. Then he wet himself, as one does when crazy ass poo-poo turns your suicide mad and sends you to god knows where. He spun around crazily, and noticed an odd light to the distance, possessed by fear, he stumbled towards it

[Fort]

Frall stared at this new companion, shocked and apalled at his state, his smellacle senses were trying to tell him something, tell him that something was WRONG, but the overwhelming stench of the filthy walrus-skin wearing tramp over-rode anything his keen precognition may have hinted at.
"...gah!" was all he could muster, choking on the putrid blubber like stench, he was going to retch up, this was all too much for his delicate nostrils.

The oracle pushed past the old man, accidently knocking his stupid Walrus hat off while he did so, running behind the back of the tavern to dry heave.

****


"Man to port, sar!" came the salty voice of the sky-sailor.
"YARR!... I mean, very good, first mate Perkins." replied the captain, his white wig ruffling in the breeze as he said so.
"He's a running, sar!" the salty voice continued, the sailor peering out of his telescope exictedly.

The captain, red coat waving in the wind, his leg making an ominous...wooden, fake, sound, strutted over the side of the deck and grinned excitedly.
"We be' needin' a new cabin boy to swab....Umm, I mean, clean the poop deck, what, what!" the captain hurridly said, his voice quickly readjusting itself.

Captain Henry was...odd, from time to time his voice would move from its typical aristocratic arrogance, to something more sinister and uncouth, and at times, the crew would say, he would get this wistfull look in his eye when someone mentioned the word "plank".

"Shall I low'er the net, Captain Henry?" asked the first mate.
"Very good, do so post haste! We can't have no-armed jim washing plates for the rest of his life with his tounge."

[Battlewalrus]

The old man looked up and down eyes wide with terror, then joy.
"Free! I'm Free! Thank you friend thank-"

Suddenly the Walrus skin launched itself from the ground screeching as it came, the joyful old man barely turned around before the skin has sunk its teeth deep into his head.

The tavern patrons slowly turned their attention to the old man with the walrus skin, and Frall could not help but join them

"I---III Haveeeee a Rarrreeee Skin Condddiii-tion.." said the Walrus Skin man.


*************

Carl really wished he was dead, or at least back home in New York, hearing about why Jenny's mother had been right about him being a no good leech-boy.

Instead a flying pirate ship was chasing him across a frozen tundra, he would have laughed in the pain in his ankle was no so intense.
"YARRR" shouted the pirates
"AAARRGGHHHH" shouted Carl as a net closed tight around him causing him to hit the ground with a thump.
He tried to get up, but now both his ankles were throbbing, it wasn't like this day could get any worse.

[Fort]

Frall heard the riotouses noises dying down, and feeling bolder, risked a peek through the doorway - inside he witnessed the old man's hat come to life and attack his head! It was the most revolting thing he'd ever seen, the way its teeth sunk into his skull...it was demonic, he was sure of that. Did the old man have powers, or was he a host to some monster?

The smellacle closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, there was nothing hinting about the Walrus's orgins, just...fire...and brimstone; money, lots of money. Frall opened his eyes at once, he could smell it, fresh, green crisp notes, freshly smelted gold coins, fine spices! This man, whoever he may be WAS linked with riches.

The oracle hesitated, would the demon man be dangerous? Unlikely, he looked frail, and all he wanted to do was kiss people right? Not exactly the work of a demon lord from the seventh gate of hell, or for that matter, an enchanting temptress. He didn't want to kiss the old man, but maybe he could get woman of dubious affairs to....

Frall stepped boldly into the now mellowed room, and tapped the old man on the shoulder, "you want a kiss right? I know a place where you can get lots of kisses."


*****

Sailor #1: 'E don't look much like a cabin boy.
Sailor #2: What's 'em funny clothes 'es wearing?
Sailor #3: Such youthful...unblemished skin.
Sailor #2: EH?!
Sailor #3: I mean, HANG IS' GUTS FOR GARTERS!
Sailors #1-3: YARRRRR!
Captain: Now lads, mind your language, your part of the Lavré-King's great Armada!
Carl: Lavré-king...?
Captain: You must have heard of the Lavré-King!
Carl: Like? Bug?
Crew: GASP!
Captain: We'll have you down for treason with language like that m'lad. Our glorious putrid slug monster monarch is the greatest and finest, with the greatest and finest empire to boot!
Carl: ummm...sorry.
Captain: Hmmphhh. Hand him a mop, he can start by swabbing the deck! YAHR! ... I mean, "what, what"!
Carl: Are you pirates?
Captain: ARMADA. A-R-M-A-D-A. Of the KING. Don't you know anything?!
Carl: ...!
Captain: Did you just wet yourself?
Carl: ...It's a bladder problem.
Captain *head in hands*: Cut him down and get him to clean that mess he made, I need a grog-BRANDY! I NEED A BRANDY.

[Battlewalrus]

As it turned out for Carl this day could get worse A LOT worse.

Cleaning the poop deck of a flying pirate ship was bad enough, but with the constant problem of Pirates mistaking the purpose of the area, twice as mush soap was needed.
And if that wasn't bad enough Carl was afraid of pirates, even armarda ones. Ever since a traumatic day at disneyland where Captain hook accidentally hooked him up the nose, Carl had had a deep rooted fear of them.
And if that wasn't bad, he hated bugs to. Well, at least it couldn't get any worse right?
Then, it rained.

*******

The Walrus man's head swirled around slowly a in-human grin twitching on his face " S--aaaalaviicallll exchangeeeee withhhhh hu-maaannsss?"
croaked the old man, leaking fluids with renewed intensity
"Yes" gasped Frall chocking from the stench
"just follow me... at a distance..." the walrus man cocked his head then nodded widely, before waddling after Frall as he left the Tavern, bemused Tavern patrons watching as they went.

[Fort]

Carl swept the decks grimmly, thinking back to his suicide jump, it was going to end it all, his whole misserable life, but then...then he came here, and he was lowlier than he was before, he was less than an accountant he was a...a sub-accountant. He hated it. Maybe he could throw himself overboard...that was a plan.

The accountant peered across the deck excitedly, this time he'll end it all, and no one would be there to stop him! He held the broom in his sweaty palms, grinning inanely to himself - this time, this time there will be no stupid magical transportation to stop him!

Broom still in hand, the account ran across the ship as fast as he could, throwing himself over in a running jump, "goodbye uncivil world!" he roared.

It was entirely a suprise the accountant when balloons broke his faul - and then - slightly less suprising but much more painful - a viking.

Carl, groaning looked up to see a sailor looking over the side of the ship he just flung himself of, "ATTACK CAPTAIN! ATTACK!" roared the sailor in panic.

"...attack?" the accountant murrmured. It suddenly became very clear to Carl that he should have double-checked his descent, for he had unwittingly thrown himself into his second biggest fear: Big hairy vikings on a big hairy viking longship. This juvenile fear started with a replica viking longship model that once hit Carl in the eye as a child. What made it all the worse was that this flying longship was suspended in the air by Hellium-filled pig-bladders, his third biggest and most obscure phobia.


"AGHHH!" screamed the vikings.
"AGHHH!" screamed Carl, wetting himself, only slighty.
"Man the cannons!" roared Captain Henry, "all hands on deck! Clip the mainsail! WALK THE PLANK! ARR! ARR!" this last outburst was not inteded, but when the captain was in one of his rages he said the most odd things.

The cannons fired thick and fast, but it was too late, the vikings had already descended past the cannons range, and were begining to board the ship in eagerness.

"Cock your pistols! Don't fire to you see the whites of their - DUBLOONS! DUBLOONS! - eyes, damn it, eyes!" the captain cotinued to bellow.

Carl, could only stare at the vikings that surrounded him, he had to get away before they killed him, or threw model boats in his eye!

"Do we kill 'im, or 'ostage?" asked a viking warrior confused.
"RARGHH!" replied the other, charging into the fray.
The first viking sighed, and raised his axe. It should be worth noting at this point, that Carl had very odd instincts, although he feared most things, heights and numbers were not among them, and though he craved an end to his miserable life, one tends to flee when about to be chopped in half, this is why he threw himself overboard, and knew the number of notches in his assailant's weapon to be exactly 316.

The accountant gave a blood-curdling girlish shriek, "GOODBYE - AGAIN - NASTY - ACK!"

Luckily - or unluckily, depending on how you look at it - the suicidal man had got his feet tied up in the balloon ropes, and was now hanging overboard, dragging a good portion of balloons with him, the longship began to capsize, and rather stupidly, the vikings looked overboard for a better look.

The result of these freak occurences came to one of the oddest ends to a viking sqaud ever seen, and a call by many vikings to make longships less shallow.

The captain crained overboard, and spoke into the open air, "That's impressive lad, throwing yourself into the thick of it like, that, maybe we misjuged you."

Carl who had been silent and trembling for quite some time, hung suspended over several balloons, while above him the longship had managed to get itself upside down in the rigging. The accountant began to open his mouth to speak, his shaking becomming more violent.
"GET ME AWAY FROM THESE BLADDERS!!" he screamed, urinating upside down, which is a most comprimising posistion.

*****

"Here we go," Frall motioned, standing outside the brothel proudly, "I don't suppose there will be some sort of reward for this, will there?"

"Huuummmmaaaannn geeeettt reeewwarrddd?"

"Yes, for leading you here, I don't suppose I could get a little insentive...?"

Just then a horde of at least twenty viking fell from the sky - head first - and sucessfully demolished one of the only brothels in the Northern hemisphere.

[Battlewalrus]

The first thing that came to Frall's head was the time he was chased by three geese up the track near his home, the second thing was 'what the fugg?'
Of course Vikings falling from the sky was not unheard of in this age of flying longships, but it was very unusual to see them falling in these numbers. Frall gazed silently at the ruined brothel, the reek of broken dreams, wounded prostitutes and flying bladders was thick in the air.
But not as thick as the smell of sewage coming from the Walrus Skin Man beside him.
"W---wwwwwhhherrreeee isss-sss hhuuu-mmannnssssss?" croaked the Walrus Skin Man sadly, like a child who had just dropped one of his toys in a gorge full of angry hippos.
"errr.. under there, by the smell of things" mouthed Frall. The Walrus Skin Man was silent, as if contemplating his next move..
"Wo---uu---lldddd yyyoouuu liikkeee- to kissssssss huuu-mmaa-nnnnn?"


*********

If anything, Carl had proved that he had an incredible ability to hold lots of water in his bladder, and to fail to die, which is never very good if your a suicidal accountant.
He sat trembling surrounded by, despite their protests, pirates, who were eating and drinking merrily over their victory.
"Well Done Lad- I mean old chap! I say we head to the nearest town to buy some supplies and celebrate properly!" the captain said, grinning as he gnawed on what looked like a chicken leg and the others grunted their approval whilst gorging themselves.
The whole spectacle made Carl want to throw up, but he wet himself instead.

[Fort]

Frall concidered this next question, "What do I get if I kiss you?"
The old man stood there silently, "Huuummmaannnn kiisss?"
"No. No. Just. No. I'm not taking another step forward until I see some cold, hard, cash," Frall uttered.
The old man made small kissy movements with his mouth.
Frall stared at the old man bewildered, he was about ready to go home and bet on more drinking contests.
"Reeewwarrrdd. Muuch reeward where kiiisssy." the old man uttered, a pleading look in his...hat's eyes.
"Really? Where?"
The old man fumbled, taking an age to come up with the right words, "neaaarr neext, ceeenteeer ooof business aaand kiiising?"

Frall sighed, his nose didn't lie, though he could misinterpret it - but this was a chance he wasn't willing to take, "c'mon then, let's head off to the next town, and for the love of god stop edging closer to me!"

***

"ARR! WELCOME TO THE LADIES HOUSE! - I mean, I...err, mean, umm, welcome to the house of lady courtesans, my dear Carl." the captain, flustered, excitement getting the better of him.
"It's a brothel," Carl paled, "it's filled with...w-w-w-oman?"
The captain frowned, "well...I don't know what YOU'RE after."
Carl looked around him, unfortuently he wasn't able to throw himself off anything from ground level.
"Welcome, to McBrothel!" came the nasaly voice of a teen from a loudseaker, "can I get you a McProstitue, or a Happy Male?"
"AIYEEEE!" screamed Carl, fleeing as fast as he could away from town's brothel, straight into the bank.
"Oh, numbers...sweet, sweet, numbers," he sighed, looking round him pleased.

Just then, a putrid smell wafted through the room as two men entered the room, one of them wearing a walrus skin.

"This better be where you keep your funds," said the young man to the one wearing the Walrus.

[Battlewalrus]

This was bad.
Carl had a morbid fear of Prostitutes, Brothels and chain establishments. But there were few things in the world that scared him more that Walruses.
Ever since the time as s small boy, he was savaged by a Walrus named Blubbers at the zoo, he had feared more than Vikings, more than bladders, more than anything.
And here, right in front of him, was a smelly old man who was wearing one.
The Walrus Skin Man looked around the room wide-eyed, and as did the skin he wore.
"kisss-?" he whispered to the young man, looking happily at the lady at the counter. The young man wrinkled up his nose and said something to the old man that Carl couldn't and didn't want to hear.
Carl sidestepped to pair and ran from the bank, and bumped straight into something, he looked up dazed, at the person that stood before him.

[PirateWench]

Oedipus Maybelle was furious.

How on earth could a full blown red and white circus tent just disappear? A full blown circus tent filled with a crowd of at least three hundred drunk students, not forgetting a small army of clowns, the world's fattest man and an elephant named Micheal could not just vanish into oblivion! It was against everything Oedipus had ever learned in physics.

And so there he was, storming down the street in search of his missing circus. He was a tall man, very slim with short, cropped black hair and a curled moustache, a rather brash red top hat perched on the crown of his head. He was both terrifying and hilarious.

All of a sudden a small squat man rolled out of the bank and landed ungracefully at Oedipus' spats. The Ringmaster of The Wobbly Circus glared down at Carl in a most threatening manner. Partly because Carl was sprawled at Oedipus' feet-uninvited-and partly because there was nothing the middle aged ringmaster hated more than banks.

[Fort]

This was a bad day for Carl, his other, other, OTHER biggest fear was indeed clowns, and all people associated with clowns, it sent his memories back to his childhood, where he once took a clown's bucket of confetti to examine it more closely. The clown stubbed his cigarette out on Carl's shoulder. This partly explains Carl's next, death-warrant signing words, brought on by the emotion of his childhood trauma.
"OH GOD PLEASE DON'T BURN ME AGAIN, MR. BONKOS! I DIDN'T MEAN TO TAKE IT!"

The ringmaster's eye's narrowed, "You...took...it? YOU, TOOK IT! I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN IT WAS YOU DAMN BANKS!"

****

Somewhere over the western mountains, across the lake of putrid evil detrius, into the forest of not very nice ghosts, floated...it.
It was horrendous blotches of red and white. It was a molten spikey, crushed shape. From inside came the most terrible noises.

"Whazzat noise, Phil?" came the nasely voice of a woman from inside the small cottage.
"I dunno, Maureen, probably those damn kids again," replied Phil.

Then, came the death-defying crash, it shook the very dust from the rafters, followed by the most horrendous screeching and what sounded like....honking.

Silence.

"Well you tell those kids to stop, Phil, I'm trying to watch my stories."
"Yes, Maureen."

From the quaint house left Phil, he was slightly hunched from years working with model trains, and his hair was past thinning and going into the stages of recession usually only reserved for very silly world banks.

"Bwah...?" Phil began, observing the carnage of broken support beams, tents, and unicycles that littered his cabbage-patch. Out of the corner of his eye he could dimmly make out a cotton-candy tumbleweed rolling across the plains, closely chased by a clown.

"OH GAWD! MY BOSS IS GOING TO KILL ME!" the makeup-plastered stranger shrieked.

"Phil honey, tell those damn kids to stop making such a racket!"


****

Frall had all but given up on the Walrus-man's supposed smell of riches, he just had to assume his nose was smelling the bank and nothing else, he left that stupid kiss-obsessed man making fish faces at the bank teller.
What a waste of time, the smellacle thought to himself annoyed.

Outside, he noted that a man in very odd clothes was wetting himself, while being hit over the head with the back-end of a whip by a man in a large hat. It's certainly turning out to be an odd day, Frall mused, sighing as he felt his default sense of smell return to him.

Well, almost default, his precognition senses could taste the faint hint of cheap fireworks-


Suddenly, there was a large flash! Followed by some high pitched unearthly screaming, and in the background a touch of forlorn sizzling.

"NOBODY MOVE!" roared an old man with a long, wavey, impossibly silky beard, holding a large glass ball up high, "YOU! THERE! THE RINGMASTER, STOP! THERE HAS BEEN A GRIEVOUS ERROR!"

[Battlewalrus]

Carl was scared of many things, Clowns, Pirates, Vikings, helium powered floating bladders, but nothing, absolutely nothing not even walruses scared him more than old men with long, wavey, impossibly silky beards ever since as a child, he was almost strangled by such a beard, he could feel the velveteen death on his neck even now.

The old man looked the sorry group up and down, Oedipus, his hat slightly askew, Frall, his nose twitching furiously and Carl, who had a small puddle forming around his legs

"THERE HAS BEEN A GRIEVOUS ERROR" he said to Oedipus again, in case he hadn't heard the first time " AND YOU WILL HARDLY DO EITHER!" he said to Carl, waving his crystal ball around like a weapon.

Only Frall recognized this strange old man it seemed, for he fell to his knees. Carl himself could see also, that this must be an old man of some importance, he wore a long white robe ornately decorated with diamonds and gold lacing.
"High oracle or oracles, lord of all future telling related activities, you grace me with your presence, My nose tingles with the joy of seeing you" said Frall in an oddly rehearsed way.

"There is no time Frall!" boomed the old man in a most unsightly manner
"Even now the Dark Lords forces are gathering!"
"dark who-?" said Frall confusedly
The High Oracle ( who shall henceforth be referred to as Tim for typing purposes ) looked shocked.
" The time is late to be explaining things to you all, but is seems I owe you this much, two of you should not even be here"
Tim shot a look to Oedipus and Carl.
" You see, If there were time I would tell you all, but I, being the mysterious mentor character, cannot. But I will say what I can"
Tim took a deep ominous breath, ruined slightly by the fact a bank clerk with the Walrus Skin man attached to his face burst from the bank and stumbled away.
" My friends, we are not the only plane of existence, there are in fact many. Hundreds, Thousands! These dimensions are all linked through dimension algae, which is the source of all magic. These Dimensional passage ways are guarded by a terrible entity, Inter-dimensional Walruses, who fly throughout the cosmos, looking only to destroy all life so the whole of exist-i-nance is destroyed!"
Tim threw his hands up for dramatic effect, and dropped slightly when no body (excluding Carl of course) was scared.
" Usually there is no real danger from these Walruses, as they can only stay alive on our planes of existence whilst possessing a host body. But a Dark Lord seems to have found a way. Using my crystal ball I have seen this Dark one next saturday, using a satellite of evil to open up an inter-dimensional gate which will allow the walruses out of their eternal state of inter-dimensional limbo, destroying all of exist-i-nance!"

The group looked slightly confused for a second, excluding Carl who looked as terrified as ever.
" What has this got to do with us?" Piqued up Oedipus eventually
" Well that's exactly the problem!" said Tim " It has nothing to do with you!"
"You see.." He began again " When I saw the future through my crystal ball" he waved it about a little, though half-heatedly this time " I knew a few things, the great cataclysm would take place this Saturday.. or maybe next, that I a smellcle would be needed to win, and that i needed a team of heroes for the job! I immediately set about attempting to summon the heroes I required for this epic quest. I managed to locate Frall easily enough, but the other 3 companions I needed.. well I tried to summon a beautiful woman from the dimension of this fellow" Tim jabbed a boney finger at Carl " She would be the spunky love interest, whom would ultimately fall in love with Frall, the hero. Sadly instead of getting the stunning Carla Purple I got the... the..."
" Ugly Carl Brown" said Carl dumbly, as if he was used to being mistakenly summoned for things.
" I also Tried to summon the worlds fattest man, to be the hilarious overweight comic relief, sadly I summoned the entire circus tent he was in... its hard to judge where the fattest man ended and the circus tent began, and I'm not really much of a wizard!" Tim chuckled before he noticed the furious expression on Oedipus's face
" Well.. I'm sure their okay... you'll have to do for the comic relief for now my good man. The final companion, Chewbackka from the Star Wars dimension exploded mid-travel, it happens, but now you'll lack the one-liner spurting animal companion I'm afraid."

There was silence before once again Oedipus spoke up " That makes absolutely no sense! Your entire story was riddled with plot holes! It sounds as if it was written by a goofy 15 year old nerd on a RP forum, and punctuated by a four year old!"
" Hush" said Tim " there is not time for your silliness Exisit-i-nace is at stake, you must head Somewhere over the western mountains, then across the lake of putrid evil detrius, and into the forest of not very nice ghosts to find the dark lords keep!"

Tim began to fade away, but before he had disappeared completely Frall shouted
"Wait! Why me? Why not any of the other smellicles?"
"They are dead..." said Tim the High oracle, his face fading " The Dark Lords minions killed them, even now they rush to meet him..."

[Fort]

The great philosopher Yellamow Marshyow has this to say about Smellacles: