Hand of Glory: Difference between revisions

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Someone seemed to be in trouble.‭ ‬Arthur Gerhardt, First Class Professor in magic and spells, could hear the faint cries coming through the blankets surrounding his balding head.
 
‭"‬Gerhardt‭! ‬Wake up quick‭! ‬I need help‭!"
 
"Mmmnn,‭”‭" t‬he old elf said as he crawled further under the covers.
 
There was a hammering coming from somewhere,‭ ‬loud and urgent.‭ ‬Arthur’s first impression was that there was a donkey stamping and braying in the hall‭; ‬and then he discarded the thought as simply ridiculous,‭ ‬and that it had to be something terrible like fire,‭ ‬or an earthquake,‭ ‬or else a plague of demons.‭ ‬Then it began to dawn on him that there was a maniac knocking on the walls and doors with a crowbar.
 
‭"‬Ah,‭ ‬you bloody idiot,‭”‭" ‬Arthur muttered to himself as he pulled the covers up over his head.‭ ‬He lay there with his eyes screwed tight,‭ ‬waiting for the police to come and collar the freak.
 
There was complete silence.‭ ‬Well,‭ ‬that was quick,‭ ‬Arthur thought.‭ ‬Not at all like the police to come so quickly‭; ‬must have been the hotel detective.
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No sooner did he poke his head out then the noise started all over.
 
‭"‬Ahh great,‭ ‬not again.‭”‭"
 
Now the nutter was knocking with what sounded to him like a sledgehammer.
 
‭"‬Gerhardt,‭ ‬pleeeese‭!‬ Are you there‭? ‬Let me in,‭ ‬quick‭!"
 
Groggily,‭ ‬Arthur sat up and rubbed his eyes.‭ ‬Slowly it dawned upon him that the raving lunatic banging at the door was none other than his ghoulish colleague and often-times rival Wilkie Grierson .
 
‭"‬Get up,‭ ‬you bony old goat‭! ‬It’s after me‭!"
 
"What‭!" ‬Arthur sprang his shriveled frame out of the bed.‭ "‬Who does‭ ‬he‭ ‬think he‭ ‬is‭ ‬calling‭ ‬me a‭ ‘‬bony old goat‭?’”’"
 
"Hurry Gerhardt,‭ ‬it’s coming‭!"
 
"I’m coming,‭ ‬I’m coming‭!" ‬Arthur sung out.‭ Thrusting‬ on his carpet slippers, he muttered to himself.‭ "‬What’s that dunder-head trying to do‭? ‬Rouse the whole hotel‭?"
 
"Please Gerhardt‭!" ‬Wilkie whimpered.‭ "‬Help me.‭ ‬Please help me.‭”‭"
 
‭The door rocked on its hinges.
 
Alright,‭ ‬I will‭!" ‬Arthur shouted irritably as he stormed to the door.‭ "‬Just hold your horses‭!"
 
Throwing open the door,‭ ‬Arthur found a pale and shaking Wilkie in his nightshirt,‭ ‬wringing his purple-striped nightcap.
 
‭"‬Here‭! ‬What’s all this about‭!" ‬Arthur demanded.
 
"There’s a damn ghost after me! That’s what!" the ghoul gibbered, his short red hair and whiskery mustache bristling on end.
 
‭"‬Well,‭ ‬I’m not surprised,‭”‭" ‬said Arthur indignantly.‭ "‬This old hotel happens has a history of hauntings.‭ ‬You must of annoyed one of the permanent guests.‭”‭" ‬He eyed the door critically.‭ "‬At least you didn’t damage any of the woodwork.‭ ‬I…Hey…Leggo‭!"
 
Wilkie grabbed the lapels of Arthur’s pajamas and shook him until his gold teeth rattled.
 
‭"‬It chased me right out of bed and out of my room,‭”‭" ‬he said reproachfully.‭ "‬You took a bloody long time answering the Glazarotsnatz door‭! ‬That wretched blighter pinched me on my face and bum‭; ‬I’ll be lucky if I don’t develop bruises by next morning‭!"
 
"Leggo of me‭!" ‬Arthur squeaked,‭ ‬struggling to free himself from the grasp of the panic-stricken Ghoul.‭ ‬There was a sound of tearing fabric.‭ "‬Ahh,‭ ‬look at my shirt‭!" ‬he said disgustedly.‭ ‬He glared up at Wilkie.‭ "‬Pure Virian silk it was until you grabbed hold of it‭! ‬You should get those daggers of yours trimmed or else wear gloves‭!"
 
"To Draumgurgle with your shirt‭!" ‬said Wilkie belligerently.‭ "‬What about my goodnight sleep‭?"
 
"What about my goodnight sleep‭?" ‬retorted Arthur,‭ ‬despairingly.‭ "‬What about‭ ‬the other guests’goodnight sleeps‭?" ‬He gestured across the hall to where a number of doors had their peepholes opened.‭ "‬You’ve gone and woken everyone up with your hysteria over a mischievous little spook.‭”‭"
 
"Mischievous‭?" ‬said Wilkie,‭ ‬bristling indignantly.‭ "‬It attacked me‭!"
 
"So go sprinkle it with some of Snarvo’s Special Spirit Repellant,‭”‭" ‬Arthur suggested,‭ "‬chant a few protective spells,‭ ‬and call me when you have completely collected your senses.‭”‭" ‬He stepped back into his room.‭ "‬Just don’t come running back to me for help.‭”‭"
 
Before Arthur could close the door,‭ ‬Wilkie scrambled across the threshold,‭ ‬shoving him aside.
 
‭"‬Oh no‭!" ‬Wilkie yelped as he slammed the door shut.‭ "‬You’re not leaving me out there‭! ‬There’s a Hand-of-Glory after me‭!"
 
"Hey,‭ ‬I paid for this suite out of me own pocketbook,‭ ‬and I have no intention of sharing it with…Hand-of-Glory‭?" ‬Arthur looked at him blankly.‭ "‬What Hand-of-Glory‭?’
 
"That thing that attacked me‭!"
 
Arthur regarded him skeptically.‭ "‬Don’t be absurd.‭ ‬It takes the right hand of a gibbeted criminal to make such a device,‭ ‬and anyway,‭ ‬gibbeting went out of fashion centuries ago.‭”‭"
 
"Still it could be done,‭”‭" ‬Wilkie pointed out,‭ "‬and who said it had to come from someone who’s been hung‭?"
 
"What do you mean‭?" ‬asked Arthur.‭ "‬What did it look like‭?"
 
"Stubby,‭ ‬pink,‭ ‬and plump,‭”‭" ‬Wilkie answered,‭ ‬glancing around uneasily,‭ "‬like a little kid’s hand.‭”‭"
 
"Little kid’s hand,‭ ‬huh‭?"
”‬Yeah"‬Yeah,‭ ‬that’s right.‭ ‬Disembodied but smooth all over except for the wrist part which had a ragged cut." The ghoul shuddered. ''Who would do that to a kid?''‭ "‬The ghastly thing was toying with the blankets when I woke up. Smelt pungent despite its rather healthy appearance. Personally, if you ask me, I like my carrion to be a little less lively. ‭”‭"
 
"Gee,‭ ‬that’s weird,‭”‭" ‬muttered Arthur,‭ ‬not sure what to make of Wilkie’s story.‭ "‬The ones I’m familiar with are large,‭ ‬shriveled,‭ ‬and grotty-looking.‭ ‬This sounds more like a ghost to me.‭”‭"
 
"Or a sending,‭”‭" ‬Wilkie suggested,‭ ‬glancing nervously around the room.
 
‭"‬Don’t be bloody ridiculous,‭”‭" ‬said Arthur scornfully.‭ "‬You got yourself a ghost.‭ ‬Who’d send you a sending in the first place,‭ ‬you haven’t offended anybody.‭”‭" ‬He gave Wilkie a curious look.‭ "‬At least I don’t think you’ve offended anybody,‭”‭" ‬he went on.‭ "‬You haven’t by any chance tore apart a chickcharnee’s‭* ‬nest‭?"
 
"Ahh,‭ ‬get real,‭ ‬Gerhardt‭!" ‬Wilkie snarled.‭ "‬We all know who’s to blame for all this‭!"
 
"We do‭?"
 
"Of course,‭ ‬it was that Niamth A . K. A. Fire Witch Woman‭!"
 
"Oh,‭ ‬Her,‭”‭" ‬said Arthur,‭ ‬feeling a bit ill.
 
‭"‬Oh,‭ ‬yes,‭ ‘‬Her,‭’”‭’" ‬said Wilkie,‭ ‬scowling ferociously.‭ "‬The one who nearly swallowed you back in Octopus Bay when you buzzing about as a bothersome horsefly‭…”horsefly‭…"
 
"Must you remind me of that,‭”‭" ‬said Arthur acidly.‭ "‬Anyway,‭ ‬what’s she got against you‭? ‬You only met her for like a few minutes.‭”‭"
 
"I saw her true face in those few harrowing minutes,‭”‭" ‬Wilkie replied.‭ "‬So I suppose she’s after me because of that‭?"
 
"Oh,‭ ‬come now,‭ ‬old chum,‭”‭" ‬Arthur retorted.‭ "‬I think your imagination’s getting the better of you.‭ ‬I don’t think Niamth would draw attention to herself with a ghostly warning display.‭ ‬That would compromise her plans,‭ ‬for sure—whatever they may be.‭ ‬If you ask me,‭ ‬I think you just have a lively ghost in your room.‭”‭"
 
"So what are we going to do about it‭?" ‬asked Wilkie irritably.
 
‭"‬About Niamth or about the ghost hand in your room‭?" ‬queried Arthur.
 
‭"‬Both‭!" ‬Wilkie snapped.‭ "‬But right now,‭ ‬I’m more worried about the uninvited guest.‭”‭"
 
"Oh,‭ ‬well,‭ ‬just take my advice and go sprinkle it with some spirit repellant,‭”‭" ‬said Arthur casually.‭ "‬As for the slomgath situation,‭ ‬it could wait till tomorrow.‭”‭" ‬He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.‭ "‬As for me,‭ ‬I’m going straight to bed.‭”‭"
 
"WHAT‭?" ‬shouted Wilkie,‭ ‬as Arthur pushed him towards the door.‭ "‬You’re not going to help me‭? ‬You’re just going to hit the sack while your dear ole friend and colleague’s going to be murdered in his sleep by spectral proxy‭!"
 
"Oh quit your worrying,‭ ‬dear boy,‭”‭" ‬Arthur reassured him.‭ "‬Just follow my advice and you’ll soon have a peaceful night sleep‭; ‬I quite guarantee it.‭ ‬That Niamth would have to be pretty desperate to attempt something like that.‭”‭"
 
‭As soon as Wilkie disappeared completely from view down the hall, Arthur slammed the door, locking it tight.
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‭Now just when he was getting ready to doze off and drift into dreamland, there came that infuriating knocking.
 
‭Thinking it was the spook returning, he snapped, "G’way, haunt someone else for a change!"
 
‭No reply came same for more persistent knocking.
 
‭Wilkie’s grew livid. "Can’t a person doze in peace around here?"
 
‭Bolting up, he stormed to the door and squinted through the peephole. He stepped back in startled surprise. Peering right back was a drawn and haggard, yet familiar face. He threw open the door.
 
‭"Arthur--?"
 
‭"Outta me way!" The elf barged past him, clutching a pillow and a couple of blankets. "I’m bunking with you tonight!"
 
 
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