Little Pripyat

The following takes place immediately following: Dr Drabak's Request

The trio set off toward the southern edge of the Council campus, where the ruins of the old Council buildings still stood. The area had been deliberately left untouched—as a mark of respect for the institution’s storied history, and for those who had died during the infamous lutin attack.

As they walked, the atmosphere began to shift. The warm, collegiate charm of the main campus faded into something much colder and bleaker. Even the sun seemed to recede behind a thick grey overcast, casting a pallid, lifeless hue over everything.

It was a gradual change, but unmistakable. The further south they went, the more the world felt… wrong.

By the time they reached the edge of the derelict zone, an oppressive stillness had settled in. It felt eerily like walking through an empty Source multiplayer map—one of those abandoned, glitched-out levels where the ambient droning never stops and you’re not entirely sure you’re alone.

No one really came here anymore. Just the occasional thrill-seeking teen or clout-chasing ghost hunter with a GoPro. The locals had given the place a nickname: Little Pripyat.

And as the wind picked up and the skeletal buildings creaked and groaned, that name suddenly felt very appropriate.

As they walked, the Master and Waldo bickered constantly—rehashing old arguments, each insisting their version of events was the right one. Eva, caught between them, was left thoroughly perplexed by their wildly conflicting accounts.

Eventually, they reached the dumpsters near the old infirmary—where Mr Vincent’s body had supposedly last been seen.

Master Devlin: "Here we are… Hop in, Waldo."

wF: "Sure!"

Without hesitation, Waldo dove headfirst into the dumpster. About seven seconds later:

wF: "Ah! Here we are… One decayed husk coming up!"

He popped out triumphantly and tossed a shriveled, foul-smelling corpse at Eva’s feet. She instantly turned green. 🤢

wF: "Hey… We didn’t know yousa bein’ English too!"

Eva: "What? Oh—uh, no, I’m from Bedro…ford! I mean, yes! Bedford-Bed...Bedfordshire. Originally."

wF: "What’s the matter? Ain’t you supposed to be a scientist lady who specializes in spooks? I thought a corpse would be nothing to you."

Eva: "I mean… well, I’ve never seen a lutin corpse before. Let alone one so… putrid."

wF (narrowing his eyes): "Hmm…"

Eva: "So anyway... Master Devlin, you said the last person to see this corpse was Reg Van Der Beak?"

MD: "Yes. I stuffed him into Vincent’s mouth and left them both here. Unfortunately, he survived… and went on to do many evil things. He was actually a tyrannical dictator for a few weeks."

wF: "Yes, he was a terrible disappointment. Just like the robits! He was our butler, y’see. But then the Masta raped him and he went off! All weird... Now he’s just useless."

MD: "SHUT UP, WALDO! Doctor, I can assure you, that never happened. These are the kinds of ridiculous lies I have to endure. Waldo has a habit of making things up, then justifies them by calling in his so-called ‘fact checker’, Frakes. Also, Reg is dead now anyway. Beaten to death and pulverised by an angry mob in Antarctica..."

Eva: "Oh, don’t worry, Master Devlin. I’m definitely more inclined to believe you over Widdle Frunkut. You can be sure of that."

Waldo (suddenly adopting the voice of a cranky old New Yorker): "Oh, issat so? Fine. What do I care? You're just some dumb broad anyway..."

He shuffles off dramatically.

Eva: "...Charming."

She turns back to the others.

Eva: "Well, I must say—retrieving the corpse was easier than expected. My lab with the containment field is back at the University, but we still need the Amulet of Ahzidal. According to my research, it should be in a tomb underground. The good news is, it’s likely nearby—there are supposed to be catacombs beneath this area. I believe the entrance is under the old library. Can you take us there? I’m afraid it’s a bit of a quest."

MD: "Why are these things always near the Council grounds? I know he was a former Master, but still. It’s strange."

Eva: "I have no idea."

MD: "Oh well. Never mind. It’s this way."

They began heading toward the old library.

Eva: "Where do you think Waldo went?"

MD: "He’s still stalking us."

Eva: "Oh? Where?"

MD (nodding): "Over there, by the river. Moving through the bushes. That reminds me—take this."

He handed her a small aerosol can.

Eva: "What is it?"

MD: "Goblin Away Spray. It’ll keep him at bay if he tries anything. He’s displaying his more jealous tendencies right now. Just like when he killed my other pupil, Hugo. Anyway—keep it ready. Just in case. Can’t be too careful."

As they passed the old cafeteria building next to the library, the Master visibly flinched—his face twitching with PTSD flashbacks. The council poisoning… Reg… Stanbot… Vincent… even his execution of Great Uncle Waldo. All of it resurfaced at once.

Meanwhile, Waldo—off in the distance—seemed to be lost in his own mental side quest. From the sound of his mutterings, he believed he was in Africa, on expedition with Dr. Livingstone. He was utterly oblivious to the real world.

They entered the library. Waldo, somehow, caught up and rejoined them just in time.

In the basement, they began searching. It didn’t take long before Waldo accidentally discovered a secret door to the catacombs—completely by chance.

The trio descended into the catacombs, the air growing colder with each step, as they began the search for the lost tomb of Ahzidal.

The Master lit a torch with his breath, and the trio began navigating the twisting, labyrinthine catacombs. For nearly twenty minutes, they pressed on through the damp stone corridors, lit only by flickering firelight and the occasional eerie glow from the walls. Patience, understandably, began to wear thin.

MD: Widdle Frunkut, can you try and concentrate and stop touching things?

wF: no...😒

MD: Excuse me, Widdle Frunkut?

wF: No. You have no excuses left for this month. If you wish to purchase more, please visit the Goblin Brand store...

MD (sigh): Do you know where we are going, Dr Drabak?

Eva: Please, Master Devlin, I do wish you'd call me Eva... and not exactly... I don't suppose you have any... master sense? Y'know. Like a witcher sense?

wF: When are we going to get to the fireworks factory?? 😖 We've been walking around for hours!!! This daft bird has got us completely lost! I think we might be in Newport at this rate... There's a disgusting odour of Welsh cheese on chips.

Eva: Shushhh... Do you hear that...? It sounds like shuffling...

wF: BAH....

MD: Be quiet, Widdle Frunkut. Yes, I do hear that.

Eva froze, growing visibly anxious.

Eva: Um... perhaps we should go this way... away from the scary sounds...

She started down a nearby corridor—only for a section of wall beside her to suddenly collapse inwards. Five hideous, rotting corpses shuffled out, arms reaching for her, jaws slack with hunger.

wF: 😲 Z...z..zzz.zzzz...zzz. ZOMBIES!!

Eva shrieked as the undead grabbed for her.

But the Master surged forward, springing into action. He began smashing the creatures with his fists, bones cracking beneath the force. Yet they kept coming—relentless and unfazed.

He inhaled deeply and exhaled a torrent of fire, reducing them to charred husks in seconds. Smoke curled up around the scorched chamber. Stepping over the smouldering remains, the Master lifted Eva from the floor. She clung to him, then unexpectedly leapt up and kissed him full on the mouth—his crusty dragon lips and all. Smoke streamed from her nostrils, but she didn’t flinch.

wF: GAAAAY!

Eva: my hero...😏

MD: Umm... you're welcome, Doctor...😒 Umm... we should... push on.

wF: Yes, let's please do. I'm at risk of losing my lunch over here.

Behind the fallen wall, Waldo spotted a stone staircase spiraling downward toward a glowing light.

wF: Let's go see what's down here.

They descended into what appeared to be an ancient subterranean laboratory.

Eva: By Jove, I think we've found it!

The room was filled with arcane instruments and eerie relics. A dormant control panel hummed with a faint light. At the far end of a long ceremonial hall stood a glowing force field. Within it, mounted reverently on a pedestal, was the amulet.

Beneath the pedestal was a carved panel shaped like a dragon's paw, etched with strange, flickering runes. Above it, an inscription.

Eva: "Step forth, champion of noble lineage, and claim thine prize."

She pressed her hand into the indentation. Nothing.

Eva: As I suspected... this is where you come in, Master... We need a champion. A Master...

The Master turned to Waldo, who was absentmindedly checking one of the seven watches strapped to his left arm.

MD: Very well...

He stepped forward and placed his hand on the panel. A mechanical pulse surged through the room. Light flickered to life across the walls.

Suddenly, a swirling blaze erupted in front of them, coalescing into a towering elemental beast—half molten stone, half living flame—clutching a massive, jagged sword.

Eva: Oh dear...

Guardian: "Prove your worth, champion... or perish..."

Waldo shrieked and scurried up Eva’s face. The beast raised its sword and swung at the Master, who barely rolled out of the way in time.

Eva: It must be testing to see if you're worthy!

wF: Masta... take this... Make it be dead!

Waldo tossed him a dusty broadsword from his coat—liberated, apparently, from a 16th-century nobleman. The Master caught it mid-air and charged.

What followed was a blistering battle—fire against steel, power against will. The Master fought furiously but made little headway. Then Waldo, digging through his hoard, produced a silver sword and hurled that in too.

Now dual-wielding, the Master spun with surprising grace, landing blow after blow. Finally, with a defiant roar, the elemental collapsed forward and disintegrated into ash.

The room fell silent. The force field dropped.

Eva: You did it!

She rushed forward and seized the amulet, eyes gleaming. The Master slumped to the floor, breathing hard. Waldo wandered over and began stroking the Master’s arm in a vaguely affectionate but deeply unsettling manner.

wF: What kind of sorcery is this...

Eva stepped up to the glowing control terminal.

Eva: It's exactly that, my dear goblin... sorcery. Ahzidal was a powerful sorcerer and inventor—far beyond his time. Back then, the Masters practiced all sorts of magic... an art that's been mostly forgotten. But Ahzidal? He wanted more. He built this place in secret, beneath their very noses. To study the forbidden. Necromancy... among other things.

wF: how do you know all this stuff anyways? 🤨

Eva: I read... something no one does anymore, it would seem. Everyone’s too busy staring at their phones. It’s amazing what you can find in the library—if you just bother to look...

Eva tapped a sequence on the control panel. Instantly, a force field burst to life—this time, surrounding the Master and Waldo, trapping them in the center of the chamber.

They bounced off it, zapped with magical energy.

wF: Hey, what's the big idea??

MD: Um... Doctor? Little help...?

Eva: I think not... I really must thank you, Master Devlin. I could never have gotten this far without you. Who knew such a thuggish, fascist brute could be so useful?

MD: What did you call me??

From her satchel, Eva produced the cracked skull of Mr Vincent. She began chanting in a strange tongue. The amulet pulsed, a green mist swirling into the air—gathering, condensing—until a spectral form appeared.

wF: Look Masta, it's Mr Vincent!

Eva: Indeed... Mr Vincent. Welcome back!

MD: Good god... What are you doing, you evil bitch??

Eva: Silence, brute!

Mr Vincent: Where am I? What's going on...?

Eva: I have brought you back from the dead, Mr Vincent... You are bound to this amulet, and therefore... to me. I have big plans for us...

Mr Vincent: I see... well, I suppose I should thank you, dear lady! I am in your debt...

Eva: Quite.

MD: Mr Vincent... as twisty as ever.

Mr Vincent: Ah... Master Devlin... and my young pupil, Mr Waldo. How delightful to see you both again...

Eva: Well, I hope you’ve enjoyed this little reunion. But we must be off. Things to do. People to kill... I think we'll start with the Council... naturally. Then who knows? Maybe we'll pay the little Japanese girl a visit after... 😈 Alas, this here is the end for you two... my old friends. You will be buried here beneath the cold, cold ground. Forevermore.

She hit another control and the tomb began to quake. Cracks raced across the walls. Dust and fragments fell from the ceiling.

Eva: Come, Mr Vincent... we are leaving.

They ascended the stairs. As the chamber began collapsing, Waldo turned to the Master, muttering in exasperation.

wF: 😒 Great job, Stan... I told you that daft bird was a wrong’un... But do you listen to wiffuhuh? Nooo...

MD: You aren’t helping. How do we get out of here??

wF: Dunno... Can’t you smash something? I know!

Waldo dropped to his knees, flippers pressed together in prayer.

wF: Are you there, Ed?? It’s me, Waldo! Yousa two biggest stars are about to be crunchin’... Any help here would be hot!

MD: For god’s sake, Waldo, you’re wasting time—

Suddenly, a massive column crashed down onto the control terminal, sparking and shorting out. The force field around them flickered, then vanished.

wF: Ha! See, pizzaface! It worked! Come on, son, let's book!

Waldo and the Master sprinted up the crumbling staircase, just barely escaping as the old library caved in behind them, swallowed by a yawning crater.

There was no sign of Dr Drabak. No sign of Mr Vincent. Only silence.

With little choice, they turned back toward the Council grounds—exhausted, bruised, and betrayed.

The story continues in Revelations