So every week, I write a little “episode sum-up” for my Genesys RPG players. We’re currently in the midst of a little “Victorian horror” arc, and a couple weeks ago, I got a little carried away (compliments and apologies to Edgar Allan Poe):
The Gargoyle
Once upon a quest so dreary, while our warriors, strained and weary, Fought many a quaint and curious creature of Victorian lore While they escaped nearly napping, from the jukebox, merely wrapping For the spirit that was trapping, trapping all inside the doors Every visitor, (all shuddered,) trapping tight inside the doors ‘Twas the Sandman, in the store.
Now, distinctly please remember, though we are now in December That each disparate adventure has connected heretofore Though we started in October, and we rarely all are sober When the clues are all gone over - over what we’ve learned before All the useful facts and clues your Gamemasters have dropped before You will find, they add to more.
Let the foggy, fell, uncertain landscape of this world uncurtain Rolled back - pulled back like a rushing wave before the roar So that now, to still the beating of your hearts, you stand repeating “We’ve already been defeating villains others would abhor - Yes, been damning and defeating villains others would abhor - “What’s a few dread demons more?”
Add XP, you’ll all be stronger; hesitating then no longer, Forth, must you, to find the creepy castle on the moor; Mind the traps don’t catch you napping, charms and puzzles overlapping, Horrid creatures snarling, snapping - snapping at each thrice-locked door - Help is scarce; be sure you listen - when to open wide the door - Was that wind, or something more?
While the whistling wind is whipping, stand not long cavorting, quipping, Falt’ring, fearing fears no mortal ever feigned to fear before; But go quickly up the downstairs and pass swiftly by the dark heirs And look not upon the nightmares lurking in each darkened door This remember - not for anything look back - not at one door! There’s silence there, and nothing more.
Deep inside, the chamber reaching, ghouls and monsters snarling, screeching, Each of you a demon battling bigger than the ones before “Surely,” you’ll say, “surely entry is non gratis, “What else then can they throw at us? What new fright in store? “Let this fight be still a moment and we’ll see what’s still in store - ” Only beasts, and nothing more.
Crashing through the clash of creatures, then, with cranky, craggy features, In there bursts a burly Gargoyle of the bloody days of yore; Not the least obeisance owes he; not a moment stops or slows he; But, as if a secret knows he, traipses ‘cross the chamber floor - Traipses ‘cross the clashing creatures cluttered ‘cross the chamber floor - Traipses - sits - does nothing more.
Now this rocky rogue regarding all combatants, time retarding, Sitting, stone and stern and serious, ‘midst the bloody chamber floor Seems to have a solemn purpose; “So,” you say, “Why thus usurp us? “Ghastly grim and ghoulish Gargoyle bursting through this chamber door - Tell us what your mien and mission, what your message, we implore!” Quoth the Gargoyle “Evermore.”
Much you marvel this great grumpy rock to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer puzzles each one strewn across the chamber floor; For all can not help but wonder why the fight was torn asunder By a Gargoyle bound to blunder gaily through the gales of gore - Bound to bound and blunder ‘sundering combatants among the gore, Just to grumble “Evermore.”
But the Gargoyle, sitting stonely on the marble floor, speaks only That one word, as if a mountain that one word is - no encore. Nothing farther then he grumbles - not a rocky shoulder rumbles - Till you scarcely more than mumble, “He has broken down the door - Now the creatures here will trap us, as they’ve tried to do before.” Then the Gargoyle: “Evermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, “Doubtless,” say you, “You have seen the monsters strewn upon the floor Trained to traffic in disaster by their devious beast-master Vlad, whose minions are far faster than his wit’s been heretofore - Could he be the mastermind behind the maze outside that door? Are we trapped here, evermore?”
Then the Gargoyle, barely turning, eyes you with his one eye burning, Turns to stone each heart inside your chests rather than reassure - Each believes from his beholding a new terror less embold’ning: There may be no exit from this exhumed house of horror From this maze-mired, monstered, misanthropic, mangled house of horror... Warned the Gargoyle: “Evermore.”
“How did we then come to be here - what was it we meant to see here?” Ask each one of you as realization dawns within your core - You remember stepping blindly through the maze’s dark and windy Twists and turnings, passing passageways and curling corridors, But what twisted, past-passed passageways and cryptic corridors Led you here...forevermore?
Now, you think, the air grows closer, your dilemma growing grosser - Strung by spellwork to a creepy castle moored upon the moor. “Rock,” you cry, “what friend hath sent thee? - was it Sentinels that rent thee From our ship and its enchanted chain and sent you to this door? Tell us how we might escape and are we bound inside these doors?” Quoth the Gargoyle, “Evermore.”
“Wizard!” cry you, “thing of evil! - villain, vampire, lich, or devil! - Whether magic-bound or whether cunning traps us in these doors, Yet we five remain undaunted, in this tower all enchanted - In this home by horror haunted - we will bow before no lore! Never - never shall we bow before some frightening piece of lore! Quoth the Gargoyle, “Evermore.”
“Listen!” cry you, “rocky stone-ears - we have told you we have no fears - Of the Hell that presses ‘round us; of its foul ambassadors - Tell us now, who seeks to keep us - what Death’s doppelganger reap us With the scythe and sickle of this keyless labyrinth of gore? Tell us what the villain’s name, that we may turn him into gore?” Quoth the Gargoyle, “Evermore.”
“Be that word a name or warning? This will shortly end in mourning Should you fail to give us counsel on the fiend we all deplore! Leave no clue to us unspoken as you left no door unbroken, Give us sigil, sign or token, as our pet and obligor! We compel you - we coerce you - you must tell us something more!” Quoth the Gargoyle, “Evermore.”
Now the Gargoyle, never grouching, still is crouching, still is crouching In the center of the crowded chamber on the marble floor Though the questers with their questions all still pester their stone bondsman, Not a one of them has thought to use their dice to help implore And without those dice, this wall of stone will never be implored - They shall ask him - evermore!
