Warning!!! Not for the faint hearted.
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Are we sitting comfortably boys and girls? Today’s bloodcurdling story is all about Not so Pretty Polly and his evil henchmen.
Once upon a time not so long
ago in the Kingdoms of Down stood the enchanted and magical town of Bangor.
Whilst perched high on Castle Hill lives Not so Pretty Polly, a hideous
creature of immense size who takes great pleasure out of tormenting the local
townspeople, last of the Demi Gods, surrounded by
a fanatical army of obedient gnomes, elves and blind servants in a towering
fortress built by deception and deceit.
It is said that from behind closed doors in
the great halls of smoke and mirror prowl clowns, witch and warlock, who forge
spells of trick and illusion. A depraved place were even the court jester/mayor
is often bestowed imaginary powers by way of a gold chain, the fool believing
that he who wears the amulet to be immortal and enjoy absolute authority over
the township.
Below the shopkeepers and peasants toil long hours in the settlement, kept in the dark from this medieval kingdom of treachery and madness, oppressed and living under the invariable threat of the tax rise.
Enforcers, evil officers who will trick and deceive with promise of a utopian dream, more than often crushed by the reality of violent streets and a desecrated landscape scarred by years of miss-rule and broken promise. For far to long the foul stench of evil and corruption hung in a murky cloud over Castle Hill. Any mortal who dare question the authority of Not so Pretty Polly were swiftly cast down into the pit of lies.
As legend for told, one day
a handsome prince did appear, a Truthseeker.Armed with magic he cast a spell
that crushed and exposed this cult of greed and personally, go forth he cried,
victory in truth, and honour to those who confront this serpent.
Not so Pretty Polly your
time has come.
Disclaimer.
The author states
that this story is entirely fictitious and that resemblance to any creature,
animal or human living or dead is purely coincidental.