In a missing chapter, our heroes’ investigation of the doppelganger who tried to frame Ensorcella led them to an abandoned loading dock and warehouse called Sodden Hold. They found and imprisoned some doppelganger guards, then journeyed deeper into the complex.
In this thrilling conclusion to our Age of Worms chronicles. Noway Amagonadai hits it out of the park and gets a grand slam. (-GM)
4th day of Sarenith, 4741 AR
The doppelgangers, being sniveling cowards, had retreated into the watery depths. We were wisely wary when water was involved, so I scouted the sea in solidarity to solidify our success. The pool was about 30 feet deep, but depth is devilishly difficult to devise down here, and I had a feeling that I was much deeper as I swam into an underwater cavern.
Suddenly my subtle sixth sense stirred softly. I was not alone. I ceased all movements in the hope that whatever was wandering wouldn’t notice me. As I watched, a large many-tentacled abomination slithered into the cavern. Given its size, it could only be either a giant squid or an octopus. A cave could create claustrophobic confinement for a squid, so it was almost certainly an octopus. This was good, as my village had some experience in dealing with… hmm…
It seems I need to choose a plural form of octopus. I had not expected this, as this adventure only contains one octopus. I never should have referenced the past, but the mistake is irreversible now. The Grammar Nazis smell controversy in the air, and they will stop at nothing until the issue is resolved. If I don’t choose the right form, they will blitzkrieg me out of existence. I have three options: octopuses, octopi, and octopodes. Octopuses seems to be more of a casual form, emotionlessly affixed with the usual rules to save time. At first glance it seems fine, but it emits a slight air of wrongness when you think about it too much. Personally, I have no trouble with a few skewed syllables, but if a Grammar Nazi peers in too closely, chaos could commence. It all depends on how perceptive they are. There’s also octopi. This form sounds more comfortable, and has the added bonus of the special pause given to words that end in a vowel. However, it has one notable flaw: it has been claimed by the Grammar Nazis. While complying to their rules might seem to be an effective way to avoid their hostility, nothing is ever that simple. There are factions within the Grammar Nazis, and some seek to destroy all controversy instead of enforcing their captured words. These Nazis will see the compliant form as a beacon of corruption, and few can outrun a radical Grammar Nazi. And finally, octopodes. This form has always confused me. If you’re going to have an s at the end, then why not just use the casual form? Despite its confusion, this rarely used form may be my best option. Being from a much more obscure section of english, few Nazis will know the term well enough to pounce on it. Unfortunately, all these advantages cause one major disadvantage: a somewhat unique form of Grammar Nazi is trained to catch civilians who wish to choose the easiest way out of the battlefield. If I am too obvious in my avoidance, these border Nazis will find me. A horde of Grammar Nazis appear on the horizon, many equipped with Panthey’res. I don’t have much time left. Should I expose myself to perceptive Nazis, radical Nazis, or border Nazis? Or perhaps there is a way to set them all against each other and escape in the fray. It’s my only hope.
This was good, as my village had some experience in dealing with octopusodesesi. I pulled twice on the rope tied to my waist to signal danger approaching, and went in.
The octopus’s watery yet tearless eyes slided in my direction, and I knew it had spotted me. I readied my hammer, but it was too quick for me, quicker than most octopusodesesi, and it ensnared me in its tentacles. I knew it was pointless to try and fight back, so I dropped my hammer and tried to blind it with my magical shield. Alas, the octopus had the eyes of an octopus, and blandly blinked to block the blinding blight. But all was not lost. My foiled trick did succeed in distracting it enough to not notice my companions using the rope to pull me, and the octopus I was attached to, out of the cavern and up to the surface.
I had not actually expected them to react to my tugged warnings so efficiently. It must have been Herbert. I have always suspected that we had an empathetic link between us. My suspected suspicions suddenly solidified as I realized Herbert must have sensed my plight and cried out to the others. I could almost sense him tugging at the other end of the rope with all of his reptilian might, guiding me to the light. Herbert was a very good tortoise, almost as good as poor Mack.