Sergeant Bufo

Glad you could join us for the next stringent episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

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Photo credit: David Gray

“Hold on there, Jeremy!” A heavy voice rolling from a wide-mouthed toad on her way down the steps stopped him. “The prisoner stays right there. Go get the Queen’s Liaison.”

Jeremy hopped to it.

Sergeant Marina Bufo was a commanding presence. Even larger than the Crone, she filled the confined space with the illusion that Duggla had no air of her own to breathe.

“So you’ve got something to say, huh?” Sergeant Bufo asked.

“Not to you,” the Crone mumbled taking shallow, suffocated breaths.

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In Your Dreams

Glad you could join us for the next implausible episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

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Photo credit: tt.mop.com

Pressing her tongue firmly against the roof of her mouth, Duggla crushed the crispy-crunchy shell to savor the seeping succulence of the Assassin’s juicy guts. Devouring him satisfied so much more than just her hunger, she was almost reluctant to swallow. It was a transcendent experience. But shouts rumbling down to the dungeon broke through her dream, waking her to the dank dimness of her cell.

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The Message

Glad you could join us for the next testy episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

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Photo credit: Justin Owings

The Crone’s windowless cell in Fen’s lockup allowed her to take one step in any direction before bumping into a wall or a gate of narrowly spaced bars. Anger and contempt seething in her gut, she didn’t hear the stealthy scratch of clawed feet creeping down the rough hewn stairway leading from the jail above to the shadow-filled dungeon she occupied.

She jumped, bumping her head on the low ceiling, at the honeyed whisper in the dark.

“Good evening, Madam Duggla. I come with a message from the General.”

Gasping, the Crone spread her bulk against the back wall as far from the bars as it was possible to be.

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Randall

Glad you could join us for the next nervous episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

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Photo credit: runwildtv.com

King Arnie sent one third of the Knights he’d brought to Fen to go with Prince Elliot to the Freelands. He ordered another third to keep Princess Cassandra safe in Fen. With his small remaining contingent, his Greatness swept unnoticed through Bog. He didn’t stop till they reached the jail.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked the prisoner who’d freed the Crone.

“Of course I do, your Greatness,” the jittery fellow twittered, bowing his head. “I was born and raised in the Cranberry Bog, same as you.”

“Really? No one here knows you.”

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The New Dungeon Master

Glad you could join us for the next break-out episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

Elliot 136, Schneeengel on Deviantart
Image credit: Schneeengel on Deviantart

Madam Duggla yelled up the stairs, “What does a body have to do to get an extra blanket around here?” A late afternoon rain chilled her jail cell, aggravating her rheumatism and making her crankier than ever.

The lone guard descended the steps for the fifth time in an hour, not bothering to hide his own aggravation from the lone prisoner.

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Breakfast Is Not Served

Glad you could join us for the next unjustified episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

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Photo credit: Mad Max

“Hey! Watch it, up there! Prisoner down below!” The indignant cry exploded from the Hole as Elliot clung to its edge, grabbing for anything secure to keep from slipping into the abyss.

Time stopped.

“Cassandra?” he ventured.

“Elliot…? Is it really you?”

“You there!” yelled the guard zipping back to his post from a brief trip to the bushes. “Step away from the Hole. Who are you and what is your business here?”

Drawing up to his full height and dignity, Elliot countered, “I might ask you the same thing.”

Cassandra’s advice drifted up from the depths. “I wouldn’t, Elliot.”

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