The first volume can be read here. Lost in a mysterious land, surrounded by an imposing forest and giant, freakish birds, our brave adventurer struggles to survive. The adventures of Lord Professor Wilson Chapstick III continue….
It has been raining incessantly all day. Whilst this is doing no good for my mood or health, at least the general monotony of collecting materials has been broken up by me having to dodge lightning every now and then. Really keeps a gentleman on his toes! My grass ensemble was doing nothing to keep the weather out, so I’ve fashioned myself a log suit out of some old tree bark. That should keep me dry!
The log suit has not kept me dry. It continues to pour torrential ice water upon me and my fires, meaning I am using more fuel than I would care to. On top of that, I have a beard now. A beard! I am no ecologist, free to prance around the fields while birds and bees nest in my facial follicles! I am a Gentleman of Adventure! As soon as I find a decently sharp flint I will cast this embarrassment off my face. Imagine my shame if the rescue party should find me now…
Still, at least my hunting seems to be going better than my personal hygiene – checking my traps yielded a brace of fat rabbits. The rain let up for long enough that I could cook them decently, and I can already feel strength returning. Maybe by tomorrow I will feel ready to do some more exploration of this accursed, rain-soaked forest.
Wolves! The vicious bastards came at me in the night while I was dozing by my fire, probably attracted by the smell of my dinner. My log suit was drying over the embers, so I had to battle the blighters in nothing but my adventuring undergarments, armed with a shovel. Perhaps not the most heroic sight, but maybe I can change the details slightly for my next biography. All told, I still managed to kill the fiends with only minor puncture wounds to the kidneys. Hah!
Still, the bleeding may cause problems of its own. If nothing else, it made me look a shambles, which could not be allowed to continue. So I shall set off to find some medicinal herbs in the forest.
I’ve come across a macabre place in a clearing. Some kind of broken altar lies ruined, surrounded by grizzly trophies – the severed heads of dead pigs. Whoever (or whatever) inhabits this land with me seems to have some deep-seated psychological issues with pork. My own current issues with pork lie entirely with not having any to eat, but the sight of this altar is enough to put me off even delicious bacon.
The stones are warm to the touch, which is concerning considering the chill that surrounds me. There is an odd smell in the air, and the ground looks soaked in something beyond just rain. I will leave this place and return to camp, I think, before some other nastiness occurs. I would not want to end up like those poor pigs.
I have now spent a week in this accursed forest. I have the most horrible feeling that it will not be my last. Either the rescue party is being led by that bumbling fool Johnston, or nobody knows I’m missing yet. Whatever the reason, I think I need to start working on finding a more permanent campsite in which to pass the time. Time to pack up, and head out.
Now, here’s an astounding find! As I traipsed out of the forest, I came across some kind of old bone with a eyeball stuck to the top. I picked the morbid little thing up for closer inspection, when out of the shrubs comes a fuzzy ball of hair, about waist-height, and panting like a dog!
After running around in circles for a good five minutes, afraid that the damned thing would try to eat me, I turned to attack it with my axe. Instead of the vicious tumble I was expecting, the living furball instead came to heel, and flipped open its top like a chest! Inside the maw, it was dry and well padded, and after some poking and prodding, I found that the thing would let me store my burdens inside without attempting to digest them.
This is truly fascinating stuff! Though only one has presented itself to me so far, I am sure there are many more of these creatures about in this place. It seems drawn to the eye-bone, following me whenever it is in my pocket. If I can find any more of these bones, it seems a lucrative business in self-travelling suitcases may await me, once I’m able to get back to London.
Now, with my dog-box-thing in tow, I shall continue my exploration of this grim land. Adventure is out there!