Club

It's also going to provoke an attack of opportunity from me though.

So I will swing my war club.

Go ahead.

Guarded step or anything.

There might

be a feat.

But then I will attack with my War Club.

I think I'll just do one attack with flanking.

This is a lot of damage.

So, I'm using the Lictor's Cudgel, which we know is a fatal weapon.

It's fatal d10.

So, I...

Back when I was still living in Baltimore, the band actually began recording in the late 70s.

They didn't have a singer, so they recruited me from my punk rock band Ebenezer and the Bludgeons.

Paul Rieger, guitar and bass, Bob Tiefenworth on keyboards, started the band and recruited drummer Gary Schwartz.

Now, Gary Schwartz has someone I've been in touch with, end quote, for a short while, and I've played you some other tracks by the band over the years.

They weren't killed, but they did have to seek treatment because, you know, werewolves.

And this is part of the same pack that attacked Cudgel and Nantor outside the city, they were investigating ways to perhaps get into through the fort to the king's town to seek out their pack member that had been charmed by Nantor.

They had two bad encounters with pilgrims themselves.

A bad encounter with a peddler who was not interested in giving them any kind of deal, let alone a good one.

he doesn't even make much sense you know the way he is an asshole in this movie

that's why they're supposed to be catharsis with those kills because the whole nonsense with serial and cheating is you're waiting for Cudgel to snap to kill this man because he's always with Cudgel so you're waiting for that that does not happen because you get one scene with him where he's a bit of a dick and then the next is when Cudgel attacks him

Yeah, that's pretty quick.

And you expect Steve to die.

Scores of little sharp hoofs scuttled over him, and when at last he was able to get up and look about him bruised and scratched and breathless no trace of pigs was there—no trace of bundle! Every nut and crust of sud and crumb of pulpy Mulgar bread was gone; and suddenly came a loud harsh voice out of the tree: "Ho, ho, and a ho! What's the trouble? what's the trouble?" Nod looked up and saw Thumb and Thimble staring down between their outstretched arms through the moon-silvery leaves, and he told them trembling of how he could not sleep, and about the pigs and the bundle.

"O Most Wise Nzanila," said Thumb when he had finished, "last night Mullajuggah, this night noddle of pork!" But Thimble was too sore to say anything for his little exswixia book of sorcery had been stuffed into Nod's bundle and now it was lost forever And they left Nod to climb up again by himself Once safely back on his fork He was so tired and miserable that with his hands over his face he fell almost directly fast asleep When he opened his small clear eyes again sunrise was glinting here and there through the green twilight on the icicles and snow in the trees He looked down and saw thumb and thimble combing themselves So down he went too and took off his jacket and skipped and frisked till he grew warm Then he too combed himself and went and sat beside his brothers at the foot of the oligonda tree To eat his morning share of musty nuts At first His brothers Sat angry and sullen Munching With Their Great Dog Teeth And Seeming To Begrudge Him Every Ucka Nut He Cracked But As The Daybeams Brightened Here Where The Trees Grew Not So Dense And The Birds Seemed Wellnigh As Small As Acorns Flashed And Zigzagged And Parakeetos Squeaked And Screamed In Hundreds On The Branches Watching The Three Hungry Travelers They Began To Forget Nod's Supper With The Pigs And When They Had Eaten Into The Gloom Of Munza They Set Out Once More As A Dog Smells Out The Footsteps Of His Master So These Mullemulgars Seem To Smell Out Their Way No Path Was To Be Seen Except Where The Pig Droves Had Rambled By Or Droves Of Mullebrocks And Packs Of Munzadogs And Once Thumb On A Sudden Stood Still And Pointed To The Ground Opening His Great Grinning Mouth With Its Little Wall Of Glistening Teeth And Muttered Roses They Stood Together Looking Down At The Frozen Footprints Of A Mother Leopard And Her Cubs In The Fresh Laid Snow Nod Fancied Even He Could Smell Her Breath On The Icy Air After This They Went Forward More Warily But Carried Their Cudgels With A Bravery Looking Very Fierce In Their Red Jackets And Great Caps Of Furry Skins And After A While The Huge Trees Gathered In Again And Soon Arched Loftily Overhead As Thick As Thatch So That It Was All In A Cold And Sluggish Gloom They Walked Like The Dusk Of Coming Night Nor So Thick Was The Leafy Roof Overhead Had Any Snow Floated Into Its Twilight Only A Rare Frost Shimmered On The Spiky Husks Of Fruit Thrown Down By The Tree Mulgars Huge Frozen Ropes Of Cullum And Wild Pepper Dangled In Knots And Loops From Bough To Bough And Sometimes A Troop Of Squirrel Tails Or Spidery Skeetoes Swung Lightly Down These Hoarfrost Ropes Chattering And Scolding At The Three Strangers But Though Thumb Called To Them In Their Own Tongue Alalala Abujub Or Some Such Sounds As That Meaning We Are Friends They Skipped Off Handfoot And Tail Into Their Leafy Roofs And Shadows Afraid Of These Cudgel Carrying Travellers In Their Red Jackets Who Walked Like The Dreaded Ungar Heads In Air Yet Nod Was Glad Even Of Such Company As This So Silent Was The Forest In This Darkness They Sat And Ate Their Handful Of Food With Scorpions And Speckled Tree Spiders Watching Them From Their Holes Not Knowing Where The Sun Was Nor Daring To Kindle A Fire With Their Fire Sticks For Fear Of The Tree Shadows And At Night They Slept Huddled Close Together For Warmth And Safety While Thumb And Thimble Kept Watch In Turn In This Way Many Days Passed Almost Without Blink Of Sunlight Once And Again They Would Sidle Over Some Pig Track Or Stand With Club In Hand To Watch A Leopard Pass And Often Troops Of Mulgars Kept Pace With Them Awhile Swinging From Branch To Branch And Chattering Threats At The Travelers But Most Of The Forest Creatures Parched And Famished By Such A Cold As Had Never Fallen On Munzamulgar Before Had Been Driven Down Out Of The Forest In Search Of Food And Warmth And Often The Travelers Were Compelled To Search The Bark Of The Trees And In The Crevices Of Rocks And Under Stones As Do The Bababoomas And Eat Whatever Creeping Things They Could Find Beside The Dangling Skeetows And Now And Then Father Mother And Chittorkins Of Some Old Sour Faced Mournful Mullerbrock They Saw Few Things Living Except The Little Ivory Gnawing Maboko Picodillies And Poison Spiders But Many Of These Too Had Died Of Cold And Hunger And now instead of the pale green and amber lamps of firefly and glow-worm burned only the fires of Tishnar's frost.

Birds rarely ventured down into this snowy shadowland except only the tiny telatutis, blood red as ladybirds that ran chittering up the trees.

These birds haunt only where daylight rarely steals And it is said they talk with the tree spirits or giant numas that roam these shades At last their feet sore with poison needles Which sometimes pierce clean through their thick skins Their eyes aching with the darkness The three travelers on the eighth day Broke out of the dense forest Into broad daylight and shining snow again Down and down They descended into a frozen swampy valley And about noon Half hidden in the fume and steam Of their own breath They saw a great herd Or muster of ephilantos feeding They stood in a line Beyond Nod's counting Big middling sized And little tearing down The rime laden branches of the trees Whose leaves and fruits they first warmed With their bellows breath Before stuffing them into their mouths The swampy ground shook with their tramplings Nod gazed in wonder As he and his brothers marching abreast Paced softly but doggedly on And very soon the watchful eyes That glitter small In the great stone colored heads Of these mountainous beasts Perceived the red jackets Moving betwixt the grasses And a silence came The beasts stopped feeding Milmutha glarin dijjar Muttered Thumb So the mullamalgars pushed quietly and bravely on Without turning their heads Or letting their eyes wander For it is said that there is nothing Frets and angers these monsters So much as a watchful eye They leave their feeding and wallowing Even the big shees they're suckling Their great bodies trembling They stand in disquiet and unrest If but just one small clear eye Beneath its lid be fixed Too close or earnestly upon them Umlgar's mulgar's leopards Even down to the brooding malabrak With its clay covered face They abhor all scrutiny But why this is so I cannot say It may be then that nod in his first wonder Dwelt too lingeringly With his eye on these lords of Monza For a behemothin bull Ephilanto With one of his tusks broken Lurched forward Through the long grasses His tail stock stiff behind him And stood in their path And as the mulgar travellers Passed by him He wound his long two fingered trunk Round nod's belly Shook him softly And lifted him high above the sedge Into the air At this many other of the ephilantos Stamped across the swamp And stood in the mist around him Nod's hand was in his pocket And pressed against his slim thigh bone And there hard and round He felt as in a dream His wonderstone And he caught back his fears And thus up aloft Twenty feet or more Between earth and sky He twisted his head And said softly Deal with the nizaneela gently Lord of the forest We are servants of tishnar At the sound of the name of tishnar All the ephilantos Lifted up their trunks And with a great blast Trumpeted in unison Whereupon the bull ephilanto That had half in sport Tossed nod up into the air Set him gently On the earth again And the three brothers Hastening their hobbling pace A little Journeyed on once more End of chapter 3 Chapter four of the Three Mullamulgars This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings Are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit librivox.org The Three Mullamulgars By Walter de la Mare Chapter Four A little before evening Thumb suddenly stopped And stood listening They went on a little farther And again he stood still With lifted head Snuffing the air And soon they all heard plainly The sound of a great river In the last light of sunset The travelers broke Out of the forest And looked down On the waters of the deep And swollen Obia Munza Along its banks grew Giant sedge Stiff and gray with frost Like meal In this sedge Little birds were Disporting themselves Flitting and twittering With long plumes Of every color That changes in the sunlight Brushing off with their Tiny wings The gathered hoarfrost Into the still Sunset air The Mulgars stood like Painted wooden images With their bundles and cudgels Staring down at the river Wide and turbulent Its gloomy hummocks of ice And frozen snow Nodding down Upon the pale green waters They glanced at one another As if with question On their faces How now O Malumalgars? His country lies beyond and beyond Muttered Themble Forest and river Forest swamp and river Could then our father Selim Walk on water? Thumb coughed in his throat What matters it? He went we follow He grunted stubbornly We must journey on Till our wings grow Mala Thimble Or till your long legs Can straddle bank to bank And they all three stared in silence Again at the swirling icy water Now it was just beginning To be twilight Which is many times More brief than England's in Manzah And the frozen forest was utterly still in the fading rose and purple, the beasts not yet having come down to drink.

The Nisan Nila is downcast with long travel said Gibba.

Ay muttered Thumb And being a Mull Mulgar he does not show it.

Nod turned his head away blinked softly shrugged up his jacket But made no answer And Thumb in his kindness And perhaps to ease his own spirits too Broke out in his great seesaw voice Into the Mulgard journey song High above the squabbling of the little mountain owls High above the remote thunder Of the surging waters in the ravine Into the clear air They raised their hoarse voices together Eadmunsa a mulgar once lived alone In his name it was Double Dai-Diri Oh With none to love him and loved by none His hard old heart did grew weary Oh Weary oh weary oh weary So He up with his cudgel he on with his bag Of manacca accas and geery Oh To seek for the Waters of Old Made Young Went marching old double dai-diri Oh Double dai double dai diri The sun rose up and the sun sank down The moon she shone clear and cheery Oh And the myriads of munses they mocked and mopped and mobbed old double dai dirie Oh Mo mul gar double daidirie He gave Not a hair of his head Did he Not a hint of the hubbub did hear he Oh For the roar of the Waters of Old Made young Kept calling old double dai diri Oh Call Calling of double dai dirie He came to the country of catch Me and eat me Not A fleck of a flicker did fear he For he knew in his heart they could Never make Mincemeat of tough old double dai Diri Oh Rough Tough Gruff Double Dai Diri He waited The ooze of Queen Better Give Up Dim dank Dark dismal and dreary Oh And Crunch won a leg Down a cockadrill's throat What's one Said double dai diri Oh Undauntable double dai diri He caught Him An Accra crutch hobbled along Till tishnar sweet river Came near he Oh The wonderful Waters of Old Made Young A shining for double dai diri Oh Wan wise and all double dai diri He drank And he drank and he drank and he Drank No more Was he old and weary Oh But weak as a babby he fell in the River And drowned was double dai diri It was a long Song and it lasted a Long Time and so many were the verses that at last even the men of the mountains Caught up the crazy mulgar drone and wheezily joined in Too A very Dismal music it was So dismal indeed That Many of the eagles who Make Their nests or aeries in the crevices and ledges of the topmost Crags of aracaboia flew screaming into the Air Sweeping On their motionless wings between the stars over the echoing precipices The travelers had set to the Last Verse of the Journey song More lustily than ever When of a sudden One of These Eagles Crested in bronze in the Torchlight Swooped so close in its anger of the Voices that it swept off thumb's wool hat In his haste he heedlessly struck At the Shining bird with his staff or Cudgel Its scream Rose Sudden and piercing As it soared dizzily Wheeling in its Anger at Evens with the glassy peak of cush Too late the Men of the Mountains cried Out on thumb to beware In an instant the night was Astir the air Forked with Wings From every Peak the Eagles swooped upon the mulgars and soon the Travelers Were fighting wildly to beat them Off They hastily laid poor thimble down in his sling and covered up his eyes from the tumult with a shadow blanket and with sticks and staves and flaring torches they turned on the fierce birds that came sweeping and swiggling swirling out of the dark Upon Them on bristling feathers with ravening beaks and talons but against thumb the Eagles fought most angrily for his insult to their prince hovering with Piercing Battle cry their huge wings beating a dreadful wind upon his cowering Head nod while he Himself was buffeting ducking and dodging Could Hear thumb breathing and coughing and raining blows from his Great cudgel The Moon was now standing towards the mouth of solmy's Valley and her beams streamed aslant on the host of the Birds wherever nod looked the air was aflock with Eagles his hand was torn and bleeding a Great piece of his sheep's Jacket Had Been plucked out and still those Moon gilded wings swooped into the torchlight Beak snapped almost in his face and Talons clutched at him suddenly a Scream Rose shrill Above All the din around him for a Moment the birds hung hovering and then Nod perceived one of the biggest of the Eagles struggling in midair with something stretched and wrestling upon its back it was a Man of the Mountains floating There in space While the maddened eagle Rose and Fell and poised itself and shook and Beat its wings vainly striving to tear him Off and Now Many other of the Eagles wheeled off from the mulgars and swept in frenzy to and fro Over this Struggling horse and Rider darting upon them beating the dying mulgar with their wings Screaming their war song Until at last gradually lower and Lower they all Sank out of the Moonlight into the Shadow of the valley and were lost to sight the few birds that remained were Soon beaten off five lay dead in their beautiful Feathers on the pass and the breathless and Bleeding mulgars gathered Together on This Narrow Shelf of the Precipice to bind up their wounds and rest Indeed but three of them were nowhere to be found they made no Answer though their friends called and Called again and Again in their Shrill reedy voices for one in the Fighting Had stumbled and toppled over torch in Hand from the path one Had been slit up By an Eagle's claw and one Had Been carried off by the Eagles End of chapter fifteen Chapter sixteen of the Three Molomolgars This is a Librivox recording.

All Librivox recordings are in the public domain.