Pip's Hellsborough Diary
All Hail Hail-Ripperthroat! A weekend of carnage and extreme weather in The Dark Peak. Storm Eloise, as it came to be known, ripped through over the weekend just passed, barely pausing for 72 hours, and yes, I took another battering at the hands of the lord of hail and wind, at one point lifting me and Shad off of our feet and dumped us unceremonially into the road. The Dun, Loxley and Rivelin rivers all burst their banks and spilled a plethora of muck and garbage into the streets. Van -- who has now materialised as if nothing has happened, and isn't interested in discussing anything about his wearabouts of previously stated condition -- had this to say (in his usual way) -- In all my years, I have never known weather like this, those clouds, that murk -- moving faster than I have ever seen it. We are on the catalyst of something, mark my words well young one. I'm not sure what, but we exist now on some precipice and I really do shudder to think what might come next. I need a hit. I am any man with a beard. I am Gandalf, I am a wizard, a cunning man, yet I wield no magic. I am a wizard, yet I wield no power over this weather, it is more than I can control, more than I have the power to overcome. I fear our time is done, that the murk has won.