Unmentionable Events Render the Actions of the DG Literally Inscrutable

Things have been kind of a crazy whirlwind since I was resurrected. I’m not sure my head is on straight, but it’s straighter on than the heads of this danger gang. Good lord they are not making any sense. It’s probably important that I am keeping these journals. I wonder if that’s why Jesus sent me here rather than following after the other two holy folks—the scribe of the triumph over the apocalypse. Hell, maybe just the scribe of the apocalypse if things keep going how they’re going.

So, we spent a while at the lich tower where zombres failed to get his hag body unpetrified before the double death. We obtained a spell book, a phylacterdoodle (a black pearl … I swear to Christ I don’t understand why people care about these things. Oooooo it’s a little marble of a different color than the other marbles are! I’ll let millions starve just to get my hands on all the colored marbles) and a piece of the as yet unbuilt moon boat. So, this litch cat is pretty evil. She’s torturing and killing people left and right. She has plenty of money and could be transforming the landscape into life-giving beanfields but she just inflicts more pain on her neighbors than the hunger already does. But for some dumb reason we don’t crush this stupid black marble in which soul resides. I mean, seriously. The best thing we could do for her if we’re trying to really be good people here is to free her soul from the torment of this world and send it to the world beyond where she might learn to repent. It’s better to feel terrible for all of the ill you’ve caused than to feel nothing, no? But Zombres is a materialist of no faith, so he has to try to find a way to get the satchel in the hag body unstonified. If we need those things, Jesus will give us those things. I know I’m supposed to be giving him a break here, and he makes more sense than Arben for once (Arben thinks this horrible person is a straight shooter with us, so let the screaming bodies she murders scream), so that’s got to be good enough right? I mean, Jesus wouldn’t want me to not call a parchment a parchment.

Anyway, we lug all this junk to C-town. We find out that Marcellus does not have the strength of a hill giant. The only people who, when carrying the sword have such strength are those who were almost hill giants to begin with. She’s just a little stronger—and should the sword leave her she’d be a little weaker than before. I don’t know where we got this information from, but these people put their faith in other people—never a good idea. So, Arben and Zombres start chatting with this horrible fiend with their minds—Arben is asked to be a follower and he won’t do that (I knew the man had some sense in him)—and then she possesses Zombres body. I’m not sure what everyone thought would happen. As Zombres she teleports back to her tower.

Now wait, I left a thing out. So, if you remember from the fourth parchment I buried Ireland, you know that Gwynn got really excited when she found out the danger gang was looking for this rock. So, we got the rock. How? Well, there is this crazy guy who wants to make a second moon. How? Well, by creating the biggest show of bravado you can imagine. He gets the most big headed folks in the world to duke it out over some trinkets. I didn’t quite follow how this was going to make a new moon, but it’s certainly not going to. Anyway, this guy Herald that the DG knows found this rock and gave it to the DG. Zombres seemed pretty glad of it and Arben seemed miffed. Actually, Arben gave some fancy weapon to the guy that was gonna try to beat Herald, but Herald one anyway. Frankly, I’d’ve been glad if they had both knocked eachother out of this dimension. Who needs people who want trinkets so badly.

Okay, so, back to the lich. Arben squishes an eagle eyeball all over a mirror and talks to the lich in that tower we just visited. She’s bringing together an army, presumably to destroy beantown (a far better name than c-town) and take back her dumb pearl. She offers Arben a trade: give me the book and the pearl, I’ll give you Zombres’ body and we can trade some spells. Arben thinks this is a fair trade. I think it is too. So, instead of doing what every person seems to think makes sense he says “lemme have 24 hours to think about it.” It’s like he was possessed by some moron or something. Now things start to make even less sense.

We take this rock that Gwynn likes so much back to Ireland. We also take the hag’s body there. Arben starts playing chess with some fop while I put my head on the fancy rock to take a nap. I’m told you get visions if you do that, and I was hoping Jesus would come have a chat, but he’s too busy or it’s a fake stone. I shouldn’t have done it, but I was just so confused by all of what was happening that I thought I needed some guidance. Gwynn got kind of excited to talk to the druid, and it was nice to see him chipper again. The guy was self important, but not so self important the he won’t help out a person in need (even when the need is inscrutable). Someone, I’m not sure who, tells him that we need a Gru. He says—that’s a terrible idea, but I’ll help. Some skull headedbeast shows up and Gwynn and I make short work of this devil creature (we got a little help from Arben and Kolya and Marcelles perhaps, though I’m not sure). While this nasty fellow is around the hag’s body turns to not-stone and we steal our little pouch. Then, Arben decides that we have to take a six hour nap so he can learn some spell that lets him change the universe maybe? I mean, Zombres’ body is probably getting ravaged by this lich and Arben wants this particular spell right now? I don’t get it. Maybe he was losing the chess game and he wanted to go back a turn so he could win? I don’t think Arben is that petty, but it is the only reason I can imagine why he’d’ve done that. So he learns his spell and we go back to beantown. Everything is exactly like it was before we took that dumb little trip only we have fewer hours until the world ends. The danger gang might as well be called the gang of no reason as far as I’m concerned. I know that I was dead and all, but I feel fit as a whistle now, and I cannot possibly come up with a reasonable explanation for these actions.