Welcome to Hellsborough and The Dark Peak
Hellsborough Chronicles involves excessive drinking, smoking and the taking of smart drugs, so if that is likely to offend, please desist now. Otherwise, dive in at tha peril :D
3.6 million years ago, a meteor decimated the saurian empire, allowing the wasps to claim dominance. Hillsborough Junction, Sheffield S6 (53.4, -1.50), a place steeped in liminality, found itself bridging parallel universes.
Following the decline of the wasps, an era of darkness ensued, culminating in the creation of The Hinge by the milting, paving the way for the rule of the denizens of the hex.
For eons, all remained well, until the weakening of that interdimensional gateway allowed the infiltration of dark matter and ominous forces. The impending collapse of The Hinge now threatens to annihilate both worlds.
Told through the memoirs of one of Hellsborough's most enigmatic and mythical citizens, Van Hallam, embark on an adventure with Pip Rippon as we unravel the haunting mysteries of Hellsborough and The Dark Peak.
Prepare for a journey where the lines between existence blur, and the fate of two worlds teeter on the edge.
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#### HMM::OUT('No, stop, don't come here. It's not safe!')
ask:: Rippon, Pip // stat:: accept[ok]__ // src:: 2001:0db8:85a3:0000:0000:8a2e:037g:7334 [loc::hellsborough//middlewood_road//467]__ // now:: 79.hail-ripperthroat.12.16.0.41.29
I thought I were deed Pip, but I weren't, but it must have been several hours before I come to, and I were surprised to come to at all, I has to be honest. I was lying on a pile of silks and furs in the corner of a small room in which were several xin. Bendin' over me an ancient and ugly nurse were treating me wounds.
He will live, chieftain I 'eard her say.
'Tis well, he replied, he will be rare sport for t'great games.
#### HMM::OUT('Pfft!')
ask:: unknown // stat:: accept[ok]__ // src:: 2001:0db8:85a3:0000:0000:8a2e:142j:i618 [loc::hellsborough//unknown__location//000]__ // now:: 79.hail-ripperthroat.12.16.0.41.30
I looked over at 'im and saw that he were not Stanningxin -- his ornaments and metal were different. He were huge and reyt scarred about t'face and chest, with a broken tusk 'n'a missing lug. Hangin' from his chest were shrunken skulls and dried hands.
The female xin told him that I was fit to travel, and the chieftain ordered that we mount up 'n' ride. They strapped me to a wild mentiloth, and, with a mounted warrior either side of us, to stop the thing boltin', we rode reyt fast, back toward -- I assumed -- t'swamp. Me wounds gave me little pain -- I has said before that the xin has amazin' powers of 'ealing.
Just before murkneet we reached the rest of the troops just after they had made camp for the neet. I were taken straight to the leader, the chieftain of this horde -- the Strinxin.
Like the chieftain who had brought me, he were badly scarred, and decorated with skulls and dead hands which seemed to be the mark of these Strinxin warriors.
The ruling chieftain was Ridgimoor, young compared to one who had brought be here; his fierce and jealous old lieutenant: Cragimold, the chieftain who had captured me. I could not help notice the efforts he made to try an' better his superior.
I has brought thee a strange creature wearing the metal of the Stanningxin, said Cragimold, who didn't even look at his own chieftain -- he will die feighting wild mentiloth at the great games.
He will die as Ridgimoor, sees fit, if at all, the young ruler said.
#### HMM::IN('#BackflitPirate: incoming')
ask:: unknown // stat:: accept[ok]__ // src:: 2001:0db8:85a3:0000:0000:ff32:8877:7b45 [loc::hellsborough//unknown__location//000]__ // now:: 79.hail-ripperthroat.12.16.0.44.1
~~Interference and static~~
Ey-up, I got what you're after, it's never too late for a slurp of slime is it murker! Paste me back #BFP121600. Sound. Gotta go, call me, you know it's reyt.
~~Interference and static~~
We need more rockcrust, don't we Van? I said, breaking into his oration. I'm kind of getting dry and I've got this nagging thing about someone coming in at the moment, someone I don't know, so I'm a bit on edge, and a delivery of crust is going to take the edge off I reckon'.
Go for it, always up for a bit of crust -- you know me well enough Pip - you know it's reyt, what's the bf's tag this time?
bf?
Come on, Backflit! Our man Delf!
#BFP121600
Van did that trick again and tapped his psycmask without actually doing much else -- that's done then, he said, with a small grin on his face. Anyway, what was I saying? Aye, that's reyt: What's this worry tha has about someon' turning up?
It came in via the hivemind, a Direct Message -- someone says I am in danger.
Danger of what?
The bitter finger -- or maybe you? Whoever it is said I should be aware of the alliance, of crosslander, clown and xaexs.
Me? So you are now afraid of me, because a stranger told you to be on the hivemind? Gi'o'er Pip! Tha knows full well that thou has nowt to fear from mesen!
Do I, I thought to myself: You used to hang out with the netherlanders, and the clowns, and you know Dirty Leaves pretty well it seems to me.
I did, you're right -- a hundred years ago; it's a century since I come back from The Dark Peak! -- this is a stranger you're talking to -- an' this is me, Van! Is tha not on drugs, Pip?
Well no, that's why you just ordered some more.
I doant know nowt about this bitter finger thing, Pip, I swear t'thee.
Ok, let's carry on with your story Van, I'll forget about whatever it is that's going on for now. And with that, Van rolled on again, barely missing a beat:
If at all? Roared Cragimold. By the dead hands at me throat he shall die, Ridgimoor. Your weakness sha'n't save him. Ha! Us Strinxin should be ruled by a real warlord rather than by a water-'earted weaklin', who even old Cragimold could tear the metal from with his bare 'ands!
Ridgimoor stared at his old lieutenant for a short while. I could see the contempt in his eyes. Suddenly, without drawing a weapon or saying a word he hurled himself at the throat of old Cragimold.
I'd not seen two xin warriors feight without weapons before, and it were as scary as owt I'd ever come across. They tore at each others' eyes and lugs with their hands and their tusks slashed and gored until they were both cut to ribbons from head to feet.
Ridgimoor were stronger, quicker and more cleverer, and he went for his final death thrust, but slipped as he tried to break away from Cragimold's clutch. This were the little openin' that Cragimold needed, and he hurled himself at Ridgimoor, burying his single tusk into Ridgimoor's groin, rippin' him wide open the full length of his body, finally wedging his tusk in Ridgimoor's jaw.
Both of them rolled limp and lifeless on the moss, a mass of torn and bloody flesh.
Ridgimoor were dead as a door nail. Cragimold's females saved him though, applying medicines like what had saved me not long before. Three days later he walked to the body of Ridgimoor which hadn't been moved, and placing his foot on the neck of his former ruler took the title Warlord of Strinxin.
Ridgimoor's hands and head were cut off to be dried and added to Cragimold's ornaments, and then his women cremated what remained -- with wild laughter.
After that, in another day or so, we was back at the swamp. There I was thrown in a dungeon and chained to the floor and walls. Food was brought me -- I knew they needed to keep me alive -- I would be someat different for the crowds.
It were proper dark in that dungeon and I doant know whether I was there for days or months. It were bloody awful, Pip -- and me mind were weak then. That place was filled with creeping, crawling things; cold bodies passed over me when I lay down, an' in that darkness I caught glimpses of fiery eyes fixed on me. It were like being back in the wisewood on that first night away from Hellsborough, but more scary like.
Nowt reached me from t'outside, I heard no news at all; me jailer didn't say a word when he brought me food, even though I asked him no end of questions. But I kept me eyes on him -- I noticed he always come with his torch to where he could place the food within me reach and as he stooped to place it upon the floor, his head was about level with me chest.
I think I must 'ave bin bonkers by this time Pip -- throughout me life I has had times when I didn't always think as clearly as maybe a should 'ave.
I know the feeling... I watched the door of the bar slowly swing open, and I hastily chugged what was left of my ale. Van's was already gone and he looked expectantly at me for a refill, indicating with a rub of his adams apple and a tweak of his neck wattle, that his throat was dry. Shalesmoor was back behind the bar serving a number of folk who thronged about, and I got into a half-rise, just waiting for Van to finish this part of his story, since it felt close.
A metallic looking ball rolled lazily across the floor, picking up dust and insect debris in its wake. A small amber light ticked slowly on its tiny "face".
Van swallowed spit and hoarsely continued: I backed into a far corner of me cell, an' when I heard him approaching, I swung me chains above me head and crashed them links on his noggin. Without a sound he were gone, deed as a chuffin' murk wraith.
I were laughing and chattering under me breath, cos I reckon me sanity had gone walkabout then, and me fingers were feeling for his dead throat. I found the small chain and his keys. The touch on these keys brought me back some sense, and I started to come to a bit -- I weren't a gibbering idiot no longer -- but sane, with means of escape in me 'ands.
As I was groping to remove the chain from his neck, I glanced up into the darkness and saw six pairs of amber eyes staring back at me. Slowly they approached and I shrank back from 'em. I went back into me own corner, and crouched holding me 'ands out showing I had nowt, but them eyes weren't interested in me, they just wanted that dead body. They retreated with strange grating sounds, disappearing into the black and distant recesses of their part of the dungeon.
The ball bumped into our table leg and stopped, it's amber lamp ticking like a wink.
#### HMM::OUT('Murk Wraith')
ask:: Rippon, Pip // stat:: accept[ok]__ // src:: 2001:0db8:85a3:0000:0000:8a2e:037g:7334 [loc::hellsborough//middlewood_road//467]__ // now:: 79.hail-ripperthroat.12.16.1.1.1
HMM::IN('..Colour: Indistinct_
..Diet: Souls of the living_
..Size: Indistinct_
..Defining characteristics: Undead spirits of the pained. Associated with impending doom_
..Class: Undead_ Revenant_
..Image: Error_\/\/\/\/')