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Mysterious Menagerie of Monsters


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Dog was perhaps not the right word, though there seemed to be something in the animal kingdom. As Oswald continued to look at the man, he was slowly starting to seem less human, and more like, well, a penguin. He was short. The black gloves on his hands seemed to be slowly fusing together into flippers. His nose was long, and his face was growing rather dark. Almost as if there were something that had covered him, but was slowly starting to fade away.

 

By the time he turned with a loud "Hmph!" and walked away, Oswald could swear that he was waddling, rather than walking, and had lost at least a foot in height. 

 

Would he try to enter, or simply wait? The door was open, but the servant had not made his intentions clear, after all.

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Oswald stepped inside the precipice but walked no further than that as was polite until he'd met and spoken with the master of the menagerie at least.

 

There was no need to make things any less pleasent than his short temper and impatience with haughty beings had already made them.

 

He glanced around the premesis as he waited taking notes of the creatures slow change into...or was it...back into a penguin, most intriguing.

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GM

 

It wasn't long before Oswald had stepped in that he heard frantic tapping on the floor coming for him. The man, now fully a penguin, with a butterfly no less, came running towards him, its beak opening and closing rapidly, as it shouted in the same deep voice as before. "Out! Out! You have not been allowed to enter! Begone, you tramp!" It was quite a ridiculous sight, actually. But on the other hand, it was also fascinating. After all, this appeared to be nothing less than a talking penguin. How often would one see something such as that? 

 

The penguin was running straight for him, flapping its flippers. What would Oswald do?

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Oz might've been offended if it were not so comical to see a penguin waddle with such ferocity as this one did instead he merely looked down at the diminutive fowl with intrigue.

 

"Well ill be, a penguin masquerading as a human of all things." Unperturbed he stepped forwards and with and effortless twirl of his wrist pointed the blunt steel point of his umbrella at the penguin.

 

"Something is clearly amiss here, start talking."

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GM

 

"I am not a penguin!" the penguin squawked in its deep voice. It quickly waddled around him, flapping its wings, until it stopped when the blunt of his umbrella was pointed at it. Oswald could actually hear the penguin swallowing heavily. He could almost see beads of sweat running down its scalp, but of course, it was a penguin. It couldn't sweat like that, could it?

 

"I am the butler! And you have not been allowed entrance! You are a burglar and a trespasser, and I will have you leave immediately, if you know what is good for you!" It was insistent, at least.

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"You are a penguin and you will tell me what is going on here or i will loose my temper quite dramatically."  Oz seethed as he slammed his umbrella tip into the ground and with a whisper set a powerful illusion spell into swing, twisting the worlds verticies and axises into a nightmareish escher-like landscaped

 

"now, three things for you to consider, I have no intrest in your worthless trinkets, i do not brook insults and I will not ask you again." His voice too was warped into a disonant bassy tone, clocks ticking with frantic intensity as their faces melted down their bodies.

 

"What is happening here or shall i rip your secrets from the foundations?"

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GM

 

Laughter filled the room, coming from behind Oswald. Even as the terrified penguin looked up at him, the laughter continued, before abruptly stopping, being replaced by loud clapping. "Bravo, good sir! Bravo! It has been too long since someone has put Barney there in his place!"

 

It was a man's voice, and if he turned, Oswald would find a man with a long red beard, tied into a braid at the front. His red hair was cut short. He was dressed in a dark green t-shrit and a pair of jeans. The t-shirt had a big picture of Santa Claus printed on it. There seemed nothing too extraordinary about him, until one noticed the sparkling rings that adorned his fingers. Placing the glasses in his hand on his brow, he approached Oswald and Barney the penguin. "Now, please, leave poor Barney alone, and we shall discuss what brings you to my door!"

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A simple tap of his umbrella on the wooden floor was sufficient to break the spell matrices and the world once again appeared as it was truely.

 

Oz was true to his emotions and instincts, quick and extreme moods came and went with him, some theorized it was why he had such prodigal skill with transformative spells, his displeasure with barry the penguin vanished almost immediately as he turned to face the newcommer.

 

"Ah, i take it you are the man to talk to then? To see through my spellcraft you must be quite the mage yourself, arrogant as that may sound." 

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GM

 

Barney the penguin was quite displeased, even as he was let go and the world returned to its proper place. He squawked, hurrying over to the man. "But master! This ruffian forced his entry! He was not allowed in!" 

 

The man smiled, looking down at Barney. "Did he now? Curious." The man's voice was calming. He looked at Oswald through his glasses, a little smile playing over his lips. "Yes, quite a mage, I suppose. I have never been much for such labels, or to overstate my proficiency in the arts." He walked closer, extending a hand. "Charles Charlemagne. What brings you to my door, my good man?"

 

"But, master!" Barney the penguin squawked again, frantically flapping his flippers.

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GM

 

"Have you now?" Charles looked over his glasses, a grin on his lips under his breath. "What an interesting story that is!" His eyes were grinning too. There was something infectious about that grin, something that could easily make Oswald grin as well. 

 

Charles motioned for the penguin. "Come now, Barney. Get to it, do your job and fetch us some tea, would you?" Barney the penguin looked up, with what Oswald could only guess was pure penguin anger. Then he slumped over, and went off to do as he was told.

 

Oswald's host gestured in the direction of another room. "Come, then. We can go to my study and discuss why you have been searching for my menagerie, my dear Mr. Zappelius." 

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  • 3 weeks later...

GM

 

Charles led on then, as Oswald requested. Through the hall, which were absolutely covered in various paintings of magical beasts. There, the image of a griffon in flight. There, a giant elephant with four sets of tusks. And so much more, paintings of all sizes and shapes. The middle of the hall was dominated by a great water fountain, in the shape of a three headed dog. Water poured from each of the mouths, much like drool or slobber. Charles paused his walk, looking at it with a fond smile. "I always loved the tale of Cerberus as a child. Imagine! A three headed guard dog, keeping everyone safe! Is it not wonderful, Mr. Zappelius?"

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GM

 

"Ah, a visitor, then? Or perhaps a migrant?" Charlemagne gestured for Oswald to follow once more. "What brought you to Emerald City, then? Surely, there are many excellent places on this Earth! And where are you from? Who knows, I might have visited once!" He was seemingly not surprised at all by Oswald's origin.

 

They left the hall, instead entering the study. The walls were lined with bookshelves, themselves filled with books to the point of bursting. The great desk had piles of books all over. A cursory glance revealed that the vast majority of titles related to animals, both mundane and magical. Charlemagne gestured to a pair of comfortably looking armchairs in the corner, both crimson in color. A small round table stood between them. "Come, sit, sit! And tell me everything!"

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Oz had suspected as much, these were people he could really and actually talk to about such things, it was rather nice to be able too.

 

Taking a seat when offered and relaxing into the back of the chair he sighed.

 

"It is a rather long story so I shall skip over the extensive details but suffice to say it will be quite a tall tale none the less; It all began one faithful day when I found myself beset by the urge to travel..." Recounting a version of events that whilst not strictly true were more pleasent to talk about and listen too.

 

"...and so caught in a transformational twister I did what I could to protect myself and Astra and prepare for the inevitable crash, suffice to say we both managed to bounce clear, though The weathervane itself was dashed upon the hillsides, I am still debating if I should attempt to repair it and if I even want too."

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GM

 

Charles Charlemagne seemed to listen with great interest, his head resting in the palm of his hands. "Such a grand tale!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands and standing up as Oswald finished. At that moment, Barney the penguin butler made his appearance, carrying a between his flippers. How he was managing to keep it upright was anyone's guess, but it had a pair of white cups, with red rose loving painted on them, and a silver teapot, with steam coming from its spout, as well as an assortment of sugar, milk, cream and whatever else one might require. All in all, it was quite impressive that the penguin could carry the tray at all.

 

"Ah, excellent!" Charles exclaimed with the same vigor, gesturing towards the table. "Please, do go on! It must have been quite a crash, but at least you were able to walk away from it intact! And what of this Astra? A cloud sheep? Has she managed well in her new surroundings?"

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"ah thank you barry." Oz mentioned to the rather versatile penguin as he delivered the tray for tea and began to mix himself his usual blend, plenty of cream and 3 sugars to be precise "She is a lot like her namesake the cloud, free spirited, curious and driven to wander where the wind may blow her, she has already thwarted most of my attempts to keep her occupied enough to not escape her pens, terribly cunning creature you know? I've developed a habit of looking over my shoulder to make sure she isn't following me around! hah!" he mused as he enjoyed a deep sip from the delicate cup.

 

"though I must say she is nowhere as clever as your rather unique butler appears to be." he mused "you must tell me your own story sir!"

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GM

 

"Hmph." Barry's reply was short, curt, sounded very annoyed, and could probably not be considered a genuine word. He did obviously not approve of his master's guest quite yet. 

 

If he noticed, Charles Charlemagne did not comment on Barry's reply. Instead, he listened with interest to Oswald's story of his sheep. With great interest, it seemed. "I see, I see. Yes, keeping magical creatures in their pens can prove quite troublesome, can it not? I have had a great many problems trying to keep some of my critters in their homes. Really, it is for both their safety and that of the city, but some just want to run free."

 

He paused, asked about his own story. For a moment, some emotion flashed over his eyes. Something that Oswald could not quite describe. Then the jovial expression returned. "Ah, there is not much to tell, I am afraid. My parents were always part of the magical community. Why, they helped the Master Mage out a few times, if you were to believe my mother! From a young age, I was interested in all kinds of magical beasties, and that interest grew. I started my little zoological garden here, both to keep them safe and to satisfy my own interest, I admit. It has grown quite a bit since those days, however."

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Well perhaps not that well trained thought Oz again completely unimpressed as was his tempestuous temperament but barry or benny or whatever his name was wandered away before he could retort and again his interest and wrath waned away to nothing as quickly as they'd come

 

he turned his full attention back to Charlemagne  as he told his story 

 

"indeed, in Astra's case it is largely for her own safety, she is extremely friendly and whilst a herd of cloud sheep can whip up quite a storm, alone she can do little more that give light zaps she's built up from trundling around on her own, i knew one youngster whom thought it was quite delightful even." he added in his annecdote, eager to change the subject from the one that caused his new friend discomfort. "I have heard there are quite a few rather powerful miscrents in this reality and her wool is quite valuable even in my home dimension where it is rather more abundant due to the difficulty of harvesting it en-mass because of the uh...zapping; Lighter than air and every bit as fluffy as a cloud looks; quite warm too."

 

 

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GM

 

"How interesting! I would love to meet her at one point!" Charlemagne exclaimed, quite happily too. "Yes, I know of many in this world that would love to get their hands on someone like her, so you will do well to keep her safe." For a brief moment, his friendly demeanor seemed to change. His eyes grew darker, a shadow seemed to fall over him for a moment. "Mythic poachers." He almost spat out the words. "Horrible things. With horrible ideas on how to treat these majestic creatures!" He almost shot up to a standing position, his cup of tea on the table wobbling, only barely managing to avoid spilling. "They hunt them, they hurt them, and for what? Magical ingredients? To sell? For sport!?

 

For a moment, it seemed like thunder was still brewing in Charlemagne's eyes, then he breathed out, heavily. "Sorry, sorry!" He was back to his friendly tone. "Nothing should be hunted, do you not agree?"

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Ah things were starting to come together in his mind now, the man with the feline traits had mentioned something similar but different to him at the shack.

 

"I detest cruelty in all its forms..." Oz reasoned as he focused his mind on formulating a response to the question "But I accept that there is a difference between malice and nessecity." He reasoned "Not that I have to like it, mind."

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GM

 

"Necessity, yes. Then it is survival! But hunting for sport! For the thrill, to cause pain, to gather trophies? No!" There was a bit of thunder rolling in his voice again, but he kept it back, replaced with a big, wide smile. There was a certain enthusiasm to his voice, which sounded almost innocent. "Now, since I am sure that you are a fine gentleman, and if your enthusiasm for your dear cloud sheep is any indication, I do believe you are here to see my menagerie, are you not?" Oswald could almost hear an audible gleam from Charlemagne's wide smile. "Well then, shall we?"

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"please lead on my good sir." Oz's own enthusiasm begining to seep into his voice as he rose to stand.

 

"Ah and allow me to repay your hospitality whilst I'm at it." A small gesture and an incantation scouring the plates clean to an immaculate state.

 

"It is the least I can do.'

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