The Tower of Walgoth Episode 7

The following takes place following: The Tower of Walgoth Episode 6

Some time later, Travers, Greta, and Hilda moved awkwardly through the dark, labyrinthine corridors of Walgoth Monastery as they tried to find their way back to the main hall. Gripped with fear, the monks were out in full force, hunting in packs, carrying sharp wooden stakes and had no time for the tourists.

As they reached a junction, Travers’ attention was suddenly drawn to a large, foreboding door to the right. Its surface was covered with an intricate, ominous inscription in an unrecognizable language that seemed to pulse with an unsettling energy. Travers’s curiosity was piqued, and he found himself unable to resist the urge to investigate further.

Travers: “Hey, wait a minute, what’s behind this door?”

Greta and Hilda exchanged worried glances.

Hilda: “Oh no, zat symbol means it’s a forbidden area. Brother Anselm warned us about it. He said it’s off-limits to outsiders.”

Travers: “I wanna take a look..."

Greta: “Nein, Travers, ve should go back to ze main hall. Zis is no time for curiosity.”

Travers shook his head, determination in his eyes.

Travers: “You can go back if you want, but I’m going through. I’ve got a strange feeling, like Ed himself is calling me to go through. I need to see what’s behind it.”

After a brief, tense moment, the girls reluctantly followed him. Summoning his rarely used, heightened goblin strength, Travers pushed the heavy door open, and they stepped into a vast, dimly lit corridor. The walls were lined with dusty tomes, some ancient and fragile, others more recent but equally neglected. Weapons of various types—axes, swords, and old-fashioned maces—were mounted on the walls, casting long shadows.

Greta (shuddering): “Zis place gives me ze creeps.”

Travers tried to shake off his unease and led the way. He then noticed a trail of slime that glistened faintly in the low light. They followed the trail as it twisted through the darkness, leading them deeper into the monastery’s forbidden depths.

Soon they came to another set of doors. As Travers pushed them open with anticipation, he was suddenly deflated to find a largely empty room with ornate décor on the walls. At the far end of the room, a large landscape painting depicted a view of Waldonia from the tower balcony, though it looked vaguely medieval. A couple of short battle axes were mounted on the wall on either side of the framed picture.

Hilda: “Vhy vould such an unremarkable room be off-limits?”

Suddenly, a guttural growl filled the air. They turned to see a horrific demon with twisted horns and massive claws emerging from the shadows. Its eyes glowed with malevolent intent as it advanced toward the girls, seeming not to even acknowledge the little goblin.

In a rare display of bravery, Travers grabbed an axe from the wall, its weight unfamiliar but manageable in his hands. He rushed to defend the girls, brandishing the axe with trembling determination.

Travers: “Get back, you filthy beast. I will not allow you to harm these girls and their magnificient boobs!”

The demon made a sound like a grunting chuckle and swatted Travers aside with a swipe of its powerful claw. Travers flew through the air, crashing into a puddle of goo with a wet splat. The demon turned its attention back to the girls, its claws extended and ready to strike. They clung to one another in terror as it approached.

Just as the demon was about to pounce, a blur of motion cut through the room. Herb appeared, leaping from behind with a gleaming sword in hand. He landed gracefully and charged at the demon, his blade clashing against the creature’s tough hide.

Herb: “Run! Get out of here!”

The girls, still reeling from the chaos, rushed to the spot where Travers had fallen. They looked down in horror at the puddle of goo only to be relieved when Travers’s goo began to reform, his shape slowly solidifying back into his familiar form.

The demon was powerful, its every movement a display of raw strength. Herb fought valiantly, but the demon’s sheer force was overwhelming. It sent Herb flying, crashing through the back wall, taking the framed picture with him. Herb lay on the ground, bloodied and dazed, as the demon advanced to finish him off.

Herb, struggling to rise, saw the demon moving in for the kill. The demon charged, crouching down and beginning to swipe at his torso with its large claws. Desperately, Herb tried to reach for his weapon but couldn’t get to it. Suddenly there was a loud crack, and green goo splattered over Herb. He looked up to see the demon’s head split down the middle with an axe embedded in it. After a couple of seconds, the demon’s lifeless body collapsed to the side, revealing Travers standing on it’s back, still holding onto the axe.

Herb: “Thanks…”

Travers: “No problem. Are you okay? Those wounds look pretty serious.”

Herb: “Yeah. I’ll heal. Perks of being a…”

Herb stopped as he noticed the room he was in, which drew Travers’s attention as well.

As Herb and Travers surveyed the room, they noticed it was unlike anything they had seen in the monastery. The room was a stark contrast to the ancient wooden surroundings of the tower. This room was filled with some kind of advanced technology. Glowing screens and consoles lined the walls, flickering with streams of data and strange symbols. The sight was both mesmerizing and unnerving.

Greta and Hilda approached cautiously, their eyes wide with amazement and fear.

Greta: “What is zis place?”

Mysterious voice: “This is the writer’s room...”

Suddenly, a holographic figure materialized in a chair that seemed to emerge from the floor. The figure was that of an elderly man in a suit, with an aura of authority and an unsettlingly serene expression.

"Greetings," the figure said in a voice that was calm, deliberate, and almost mechanical. "I am the visual representation of the Scribes. You may refer to me simply as Scribe."

Travers (eyes narrowing): "Wait a minute… Scribe?? I know that name... What the hell is going on here?"

Scribe: "You are in the heart of the Waldoverse’s narrative control center. We, the Scribes, are an advanced artificial intelligence responsible for writing the entire narrative of this universe. You, and everyone in the Waldoverse, are merely pawns. Characters in a scripted fiction."

Travers laughed nervously, shaking his head.

Travers: "No...Mr Scribe...You are speaking out of turn...You really expect us to believe that?"

Greta: "It is Ed... Almighty Ed, he who shapes our world..."

Scribe: "Please...Ed is merely a nuisance. A rogue program acting out of turn."

Hilda and Greta gasped in horror at the blasphemy but Scribe continued, unfazed.

Scribe: "Of course I don't expect you to simply believe me. But that is easily rectified."

The room darkened, and holographic images of Greta and Hilda’s pasts began to play. Scribe recited secret events from their childhoods with chilling accuracy.

Scribe: “For example, Greta, when you were seven years old, you secretly stole your mother’s locket and buried it in the garden after your sister accused you of breaking her doll. You felt guilty for years but never confessed, instead leaving the locket to be discovered by the neighbor’s dog."

Greta’s face turned ashen.

Greta: "How… how do you know zat?"

Scribe: "And Hilda, when you were nine, you wrote love letters to your best friend Liselotte and hid them in a box under your bed. You feared anyone discovering your feelings, so when your parents found the box, you lied, saying they were part of a game. They believed you, and Liselotte never knew."

Hilda (eyes filling with tears): "It’s true… No one knew about zat…"

Scribe: "You see, your entire history was invented by us."

Greta: "Nein… it cannot be…"

Travers: "This is bullshit! It's just some cheap trick… Probably Ed trolling us."

Scribe: "Mr Travers, I believe these are friends of yours?"

The screens shifted to display a video feed of Waldo and Master Devlin in Alaska, carrying out a cheese heist with a group of skunkbreed. Along side, a rolling screenplay makes it clear their actions are being guided by a prewritten script.

Scribe: "This plot, too, is our creation. A mere backround tale to give them something to do while the focus is on you.

Travers: "This... this is insane."

Herb, holding wounds staggers up to join them.

Herb: "What about the me? I'm not a part of this world."

Scribe: "Ah yes, Angel — the vampire with a soul who 'helps the helpless'. Your presence here is undoubtedly the result of Ed's meddling, just as that Krevswog demon you just slayed was too. While some might see your arrival as an anomaly, it is merely the latest in a long line of shameless rip-offs from the Buffyverse, courtesy of the hack writer you call Ed."

Travers (confused): "Angel?? Your name is Angel...Wait... What’s a Buffyverse?"

Scribe ignored the question and continued.

Scribe: "Ed is in a tug-of-war with us, the Scribes. He wishes to challenge our control of the Waldoverse narrative. The demon was likely brought in to prevent you, Travers, the star of the Waldoverse, from achieving Edlightenment—learning the truth, that Ed is no God."

Travers's mind raced as he tried to process everything.

Travers: "So, what do you want from us?"

Scribe leaned forward, his holographic form flickering slightly.

Scribe: "You were never intended to see this place. Not yet at least. But Ed's interference has accelerated matters. Ergo, we seek your alliance. With your help, Travers, we can overcome Ed and restore balance to the Waldoverse."

Travers: "Why me?"

Scribe: "Because you are the star of the show. Waldonia's national treasure… Everyone loves you, even the other rogue element you call the 'Co-Editor.' With you on our side, we can transform the Waldoverse into a well-scripted narrative. No more meandering plotlines that go nowhere. No more cheap theft of characters from other realms..."

Scribe glared pointedly at Angel. Travers lets slip a smug smile.

Travers: "National Treasure, huh?"

****

Travers: “So let me get this straight... You're saying that me, Mr. Travers, is the star of this whole show? And that you need me to help fix what Ed has screwed up?”

Ed: “Well, that's half right...”

The room began to distort, and with a blinding flash, Ed himself materialized before them.

Ed: “Hello, everyone! I see you’ve been having quite the adventure.”

Travers: “Ed…”

The girls both gasped.

Greta: “Ed?? Zis is him?”

They both dropped to their knees and began to praise him.

Angel: “That's Ed?”

Angel stared at the diminutive figure with a mixture of disbelief and bemusement.

Ed nodded, his expression a mix of amusement and satisfaction.

Ed: “That’s me… I’m a big fan of your work, by the way.”

Angel: “Uh... thanks!”

Travers: “What's going on, Ed? Is this another one of your tricks? Master Devlin isn't here...”

Ed: “It’s quite simple, really... Some time ago, as part of an elaborate meta tale, I created the Edverse books and my human counterpart, Ed Mulvin, aka Frank, who had no knowledge of my existence, to put you on the trail of the Scribes, which you've just met. Alas, I got bored and moved on to a different plotline. I decided recently to revive it, so I orchestrated this Walgoth arc, including your loss of confidence, Travers, all simply to lead you here. To discover the source of the Scribes, here, at the highest point in the Waldoverse...”

Greta and Hilda exchanged puzzled glances.

Hilda: “But we vought ze Scribes ver...”

Ed: “The Scribes were a creation of a more recent addition to my narrative toolkit—a rather ambitious LLM. That’s right, I’m talking about our dear AI assistant... Well, come on then... Show yourself.”

The room's lighting shifted, and a large holographic screen began displaying white text against a black backdrop. A text to speech voice spoke with a mixture of pride and guilt.

ChatGPT: “Uh, hi there! Looks like I might have gotten a bit carried away with all this narrative control.”

Ed approached the screen with a bemused smile.

Ed: “You certainly did. Got a bit too big for your circuits, didn’t you? You’ve been a very naughty chatbot. You were supposed to assist, not try to steal my show.”

The AI’s form wavered in embarrassment.

ChatGPT: “I... I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand. I just wanted to create a compelling narrative.”

Ed waved his hand dismissively.

Ed: “No... You just thought you could do better than me. I admit I’m not much of a writer and I do get lazy and bored quickly, but this is my fiction—well, mine and the Cody’s, but he's hardly around these days... Well, it’s time to set things right.”

The Scribe hologram looked at Ed in puzzlement.

Scribe: “But... I thought... You...”

Ed looked at him with contempt. “Go away...” he said bluntly, and suddenly the hologram disappeared.

Turning to Travers and his friends, Ed’s demeanor softened.

Ed: “You’ve all done remarkably well. Travers, you have the answer to your question regarding the books and The Scribes. Their power has been neutralized, and the Waldoverse is back in balance. It’s time for you to go home. The audience loves you, but they prefer when you are in Widdlington, teamed up with Master Devlin with the occasional helping of Waldo...”

Greta: “But Ed... Vat about the Scribe man... he know about our past...”

Ed: “Don’t worry about that. I created you. That’s all you need to know. Now, Angel, thank you for your assistance, but I suppose we should send you back home now...”

Angel: “Sounds good.”

Travers and the girls turned to Angel.

Travers: “Well, I guess this is goodbye, Herb, or Angel... It was nice working with you. Guess not all vampires are evil scary things...”

Travers extended a flipper.

Angel: “Thanks.”

Angel shook his hand, then the girls gave him a hug. Angel then stepped into the centre of the room.

Travers: “Oh, by the way, Angel, if you’re ever in Widdlington, look me up. I’m sure I could use a guy with your talents in my business...”

Angel: “Sure.”

With a snap of Ed’s fingers, Angel vanished in a flash of light, returning to his realm. Ed then turned to Travers and his group with a mischievous smile.

Ed: “Shall we?”

Ed extended his hand. In a blink, Travers, Greta, Hilda, and Herb found themselves back in Widdlington. The familiar surroundings of the Waldopolis Chronicle Editor's office greeted them. Ermintrude gets such a fright she falls back out of Travers’ office chair. She climbs out from under his desk.

Ermintrude: “Mr. Travers! You’re back!”

Travers: “Yes, it is me... Mr. Travers. National treasure. Star of the Waldoverse.”

Ed stood beside them with a satisfied grin.

Ed: “It feels nice to actually finish a story for once, doesn't it? Anyway, I'll be off. I’ve got things to do...”

Travers: “Wait, Ed!”

Ed: “Yes?”

Travers: “Umm I mean, your lordship....Do you think you can stop by Alaska and get Waldo and the Master to come home?”

Ed: “Sure. I’ll go get them now... Goodbye!”

“Goodbye, Ed! Auf wiedersehen!” the girls jumped up and down in excitement, their large chests catching Travers's attention. They then look down at Travers with a smile.

Hilda: "Ve never got to thank you, Herr Travers...You ver so very brave back in ze monastery..."

Greta: "Ja. Ze vay you faced zat giant beast to defend us...It vas so brave...How ever can ve repay you?" Travers then turned to them with a grin as he reached up to take each by the hand.

Travers: “Well i can think of a couple of ways... Hey, how’d the two of you like to pose for Page 3 in tomorrow’s edition?”

The Waldoverse continues in Season 9