Meanwhile, a passage has opened up to the east, where the play room has been assembled, with a very large box in the center that plays music ("Round and round the cobbler's bench...") and has a slowly winding oversized handle. Shelves and chests filled with assorted toys line the walls, many of them sporting porcelain or lacquered wooden faces and glassy eyes staring disconcertingly out into the kitchen.
To the south, the "Gatling gnus" have been silenced in the bathrooms, but beyond that, gaps have opened in the walls, presumably providing an avenue of access to the mysterious miniature cornfield (and its creepy scarecrows) spied earlier between the gaps, and some other chamber to the east.
For those desperate to escape, the main entrance remains visible to the south. The double doors presumably lead back out to the entry path, where the White Knight's faithful Steed was last seen waiting patiently on the walkway.
Seeing themselves potentially surrounded by enemies on all sides, and the White Knight being somewhere remote and not of much help whatsoever, our heroes hastily shout ideas at each other on how they might turn the environment to their advantage, all while scrambling to find suitable defensive positions against the monkey onslaught.
"How badly damaged is the gnu in the men's room, Achille's?" Gryphon asks, wishing he could pinch his nostrils closed.
"Blast, this many monkeys and no organ grinder in sight. I daresay the winding box is a poor substitution," March remarks, "But then I'm also not quite sure that dancing poo-flinging monkeys is any better. And that reminds me .. Griffin, Ace, do not tell them to scat! Maybe we can just use one of the gnus against them! Or can we block the doors with furniture to buy time?" So, he goes to see if he can figure out how to operate the boxes ot block the doors for a bit of time.
"God have mercy on us! Integra, why don't you give Harrison a helping eye at the cabinet," Ace exclaims as he takes up a defensive position with his umbrella. In response to Gryphon, he adds, "It was fairly dinged up, I must say. If you don't mind some rat squeaking at you, you might have better luck with the women's gnu."
"I'll try that one then," Griffin notes, heading for the doors to the bathrooms. "March generally has a more subtle touch when dealing with things feminine, after all."
The huge box in the toy room continues playing a melody. This part would correspond to, "... the monkey chased the weeeeea-sel..."
As the rabbit scoots across the room, the umbrella-wielding reporter adds to him, "I think I see a potted plant... if I'm not mistaking the distinctive leafy twigs. If they were to jostle it, it might very well 'pot' a few of them."
In the room to the south, Griffin opens the door to the Ladies' Room.
"Oh!" Integra exclaims. "I was watching Mr. Johnson and I think if you spin this wheel right here...." She demonstrates. A "helping hand" pops out of one of the upper panels.
Inside the ladies' room, inside a tiny little peep-hole, a little rat shrieks in alarm at sight of the gryphon, and scurries away. There's a "click" sound from behind the wall.
"Some big cabinets to block the doorways for a bit would be good. Bedroom wardrobes, perhaps ... or even just moving the kitchen cabinets to block the doors," Harrison suggests as he reads over the controls agaon . "And once they're contained, I think Ace's idea of poking the potted plant is a jolly good one."
"A cabinet! Uhm ... oh!" Integra scans the controls and finds something that looks like a picture of a cabinet. "Here!" She spins the wheels and pulls levers furiously, and it's a shame that anyone should ever be expected to learn how to operate a device such as this properly, but somehow it spurs the Helping Hand into action ... as with a disconcerting RRRRIP! It yanks a set of cabinets off of the kitchen walls.
"Ace, back up! Once monkey-blocking cabinet coming your way!" March calls out as he now tries to move the removed cabinet in front of the bedroom doorway to block the poo-demons from attacking.
The card reporter looks to his side and yelps as he sees the hand swinging his way with a cabinet in its clutches. "Gadzooks! That's one way to lend a helping hand," he admits.
With a clatter and crash of shattering fine china and the tinkling of little teacups, the cabinet is wedged into place in front of the gap to the bedroom. It doesn't ENTIRELY block the way, but should at least slow the flow of monkeys.
Achilles hastily backpedals until his back is to the table. He surveys the cabinet, mindful of whether it reaches all the way to the top... Or a sufficiently agile monkey might climb over it.
*** GM RETCON! Music box line #1: "Half a pound of tuppenny rice..." Music box line #2: "Half a pound of treacle..."
The reporter throws a glance over his back at the play room and its collection of toys... which might even now be lurching into action. But with a definite chance that monkeys could pour through the gap he's spotted, he sees no choice but to stand firm (and edge on to the incoming simian swarm), umbrella at the ready to deter them. "Can you pot a few of them?" he asks. "Once we get that monkey mob sorted out, we can deal with the musical menace."
The music-box continues. "That's the way the money goes..." Or was it "monkey"?
SHREEEEEEEE! comes the high-pitched protest of a scrambling monkey from on the other side of the cabinet. Apparently it was in the process of dashing into the kitchen, when suddenly this piece of furniture came crashing down right in front of it. The other monkeys bounce and tumble in its wake.
With all of the noise coming from the Kitchen, Griffin nearly missed the 'click' and the squeak, and tries to rush past the sink to the bathing area before anything horrible happens! "Pardon me, just the plumber!" he apologizes to the rat.
At a glance, the Gryphon can see that the Gatling gnu is fully intact, but the pressure hose leading from it to the wall has been disconnected, and some sort of safety valve has shut down in the wall so that hot steam wouldn't start pouring into the bathroom (which would be HORRIBLE for a lady's complexion).
"That's not so bad," the featherhead decides, and works to try and reconnect the hose.
Although the Gatling gnu has an animal-like appearance, and even looks as if it should be ambulatory, it nonetheless has been bolted into place, and little fixtures and filigrees and towel rods have been stuck on it in a rather half-thought attempt to repurpose the mechanical creature into a bathroom fixture. The steam feed seems to have been a later modification, though it's unclear what sort of power source it was originally supposed to have. Still, it's an easy fix. The hose pops back into place, and the safety valve can be reset just by pulling the reset ring.
"I'm ready to restart the Gnu!" Griffin yells back through the bathroom, hoping to be heard over the clamor, and pulls the safety-valve release.
The pipe shudders as hot steam pours back through the piping. The Gatling gnu lets out a loud GNORT!
Achilles yells back, "Not a moment too soon! The unwashed horde is at the walls of Troy!"
As the mechanical whatsit stirs, Griffin beats a hasty retreat back towards the Kitchen!
Fortunately, the whole process of the Gatling gnu rising back off its haunches and steaming back to life (plus whatever strange contraption the rat has set off behind the walls) is slow enough that Griffin is able to get out of the bathroom without immediate further incident.
There's a high-pitched alarm screaming from the ladies' (or Queens') room as Griffin the Gryphon flees. With an angry "Gnort!" the Gatling gnu springs back to life, and spatters hard soap pellets through the doorway before it finishes closing.
A mechanical-sounding giggle echoes from the Play Room to the west.
"Right! Time to see if I can blow some monkey!," March says as he pops his knuckles, "Redecorating the bedroom time!" And his plan is ... moving furniture. Namely shoving one of the beds across the floor in the bedroom and into the pot!
A Helping Hand pops out of the wall in the bedroom, and gives one of the beds a little scoot toward the corner of the room. A monkey that was perched on the potted plant in the corner easily leaps free from it and over the bed, but another monkey isn't so lucky, and gets pinned ... just as the plant falls over. "Ook?"
**KABOOM**
"Sounds like a direct hit, whatever you just did, Harrison!" exclaims Achilles. But that scrabbling noise indicates to him that a good number of them are still alive in there. That explosion will no doubt make them even more frantic to get into here. He braces and prepares to take the wind out of the first one.
"Rawrk!" Griffin calls once he's through the door. "Gnu is soapy and irritated!"
"Great! Now all we have to do is move it into the bedroom," suggests Achilles.
In the bedroom, monkeys and bits of furniture and potted plant go scattering. The monkeys shriek, and seem all the more determined to flee the bedroom into the kitchen.
Integra wildly spins wheels and pulls chains. "Cabinetcabinetcabinetcabinet!" Rewarding her efforts, another Helping Hand pops out of a wall panel, RRRRRIPS another cabinet off the wall (cutlery can be heard to rattle and pots clang and clatter) then crams it on top of the other cabinet, further blocking the passageway to the bedroom.
Taken aback, Achilles surveys the result. He frowns; there seems to be enough of a gap that a determined monkey just might be able to slip through. It would be too small for an ordinary person, but the monkeys are annoyingly tiny. No time to slack off! "Griffin, if you have a spare moment, you might see if we're about to be besieged by toy soldiers from the play room," Ace calls out.
"Now, moving gnu. A gnu attempt ad gnatting the monkeys," Harrison declares as he digs through the controls, trying to find the settings to move the angry girly-gnu into the room of poo.
"GNORT?" emits the Gatling gnu from the Queens' room, as a Helping Hand yanks it, the bathtub, the plumbing, and assorted attached features out. Several cranks and clanks later, and the master bedroom now has a private bath.
The automated bathtub begins going to work furiously, as it has taken the place of the now-destroyed part of the pair of beds originally in the room, grabbing the nearest dirty creature (a dead monkey, or what's left of it) and soaking it and scrubbing it vigorously. This does not help.
"Malevolent mechanical misfit toys, eh?" Griffin says as he hurries to block the remaining open passage to the west, and see what, if anything, is lurking there.
The Girly Gatling Gnu, meanwhile, sprays the bedroom with hard soap pellets. Mostly, this does nothing more than stir up the monkeys even more, but one of the monkeys freezes in place, and gets violently soaped. It does not survive the experience, but it now smells of lavender.
Ace smiles grimly as he hears the sounds of soapy gunfire from the bedroom. "Perfect! All we have to do is plug up the cabinets with one of these beasts and in due time, the Gatling Gnu will clean them out for us." He braces, ready for the first one to squirm through.
Integra keeps pulling levers and spinning wheels. "Cabinetcabinetcabinetcabinet -- got it!" With another RRRRIP and accompanying sounds of little expensive things crashing and tinkling to bits, a Helping Hand rips another cabinet off the wall, but seems to be looking for a suitable place to put it back down.
"You might want to hold that thought a moment," says Ace as he alarmedly catches sight of the cabinet moving into position. "Let's see what our esteemed avian has to say about the playroom."
Meanwhile, Griffin's entry into the newly-fashioned portal to the Play Room is unimpeded, and free of signs of recent disturbance by monkeys (thank goodness!). The room up ahead smells faintly of baby powder, lacquered wood, candy, and fresh linens. Shelves upon shelves are home to countless dolls and little toy ships and spring-loaded cannons and wardrobes full of little dresses and models with little pieces of armor, and chessboards with fancifully-painted sets, rocking horses, and chests full of even more wonders.
Of course, one simply CANNOT get around that huge box in the middle of the room. It still cranks out its tinny melody, ever-so-slowly.
"Nothing moving here save the handle on the music box," Griffin reports.
Meanwhile, a squirming monkey only manages to get its head poked through a gab in the cabinet. It opens its eyes and mouth wide, shrieking angrily as it sees Achilles.
"Ah-ha! Monkey sighted!" The reporter lunges, jabbing with the deadly sharp tip of his Paragon Imperial brolly.
The end result is unpleasant, but suffice it to say that the monkey is a lot quieter now. The next monkey in line will have to find another way through the cabinets.
From the Play Room, the melody continues, and this is the part where it would go...
***POP!***
The lid of the box pops open, and out of it pops a mechanical doll that looks very much like a weasel. A toothy, wild-eyed, raving MAD weasel! "Narrr!"
Someone should really speak with the White Knight about his ideas regarding toys and their appropriateness for children.
"Hjckrrh!" Griffin squawks in alarm. "That's a toy?"
Wiping off the point of his umbrella on a napkin fastidiously, Achilles surveys the remaining gaps. "Well, it's a play room, what would you expect it to contain but toys?" he wonders, not having seen the weasel. Though that "Narrr" did sound a bit disconcerting.
The Wild Weasel begins spinning around the room in a little clockwork-fueled tornado of mayhem. As it does, it knocks several dolls off the shelves. Some of them have large conspicuous wind-up keys on their backs, and they start to move. "Maaaaa -ma!" cries one little doll in a dress. "Hoo hoo!" hoots a wicked-looking little clown. "Neeeeeeeeigh," says a rather creepy-looking little rocking-pony that looks more like a NIGHTMARE than anything a child would want to actually ride.
"There's a clown too!" Griffin squawks and backpedals to the Kitchen. "Close it off, close it off!"
"Block the toyroom, Integra!" March cries.
"Huh? Toys?" Integra responds, snapping out of fussing over the controls, as she is maneuvering the Helping Hand and its cabinet. Then, she sees the Gryphon's reaction, and works out that there must be something Very Bad in there. With a crash, she brings the cabinet down over the open passage-way -- but as with the bedroom, it only partially blocks the passage.
Achilles glances behind him and notices... the room full of animated and somehow threatening toys. "God in Heaven, preserve us--" he says, then in a more conversational tone of voice, he adds, "Griffin, might I suggest, should the White Knight ever offer to watch Integra for you while we go off on a madcap adventure... You should kindly resist his offer."
The Gryphon prepares his rifle, should anything try to get through the gaps. He has to wonder if a bayonet will work on a wind up toy though.
Another barrel monkey pops its head through a hole in a smashed cabinet, and knocks the broken glass door open, shrieking at Achilles. The other monkeys leap and bounce around somewhere behind it, unable to get through, and instead opt for other avenues of escape.
"These blasted monkeys haven't given up yet! I'll keep an eye out on this end, do what you can on that end," yelps Achilles as he leaps to intercept the squirming monkey.
Suddenly, the monkey stuck in the cabinet begins to shake and twitch as its monkey-backside is riddled with high-velocity hard soap pellets. Again, the outcome is not very pretty, but at least it smells much better now.
Achilles pauses as the monkey stops moving. He listens for the telltale signs of monkey scrabbling, trying to guess where the next one will appear.
"Hoo hoo!" hoots one of the clowns. "I am your helpful friend! I'll help you out until the end! I can play and I can teach! I can get things you can't reach!" The wind-up clown prances about. "Always fun and never a bore! I will help you do your chores! Let's play pick up, one-two-three! Put away your toys now, along with me!" And with that, the little clown doll picks up a large potted plant and hefts it around the corner from the Play Room, trundling down the hallway.
"Now what, now what?" March asks. Seeing as how the monkeys are blocked off still, he looks to re-enforce the blockage on the toy side.
March scrambles after hearing the clown ... and tries to find something to drop on it or shove into it!
Meanwhile, some of the other dolls seem to be singing their own little songs or doing their own little dances, but they aren't so close as the clown doll, so it's harder to make out what they're doing exactly, over the cacophony.
Torn between bolbimb the mad bomber, or trying to turn around the mad bomber ... he opts for turning it around! Saves on bomb ammo, after all. March says, "We're too old to play with toys, why don't you play with the weasel instead!" he declares as he ries to reorient the oncoming clown.
bobimb = bombing
Alas, the Helping Hand has quite a handful in the form of the little clown. Somehow, it just happens to dodge and dance its way around the mechanical fingers, continuing on down the passage. "Haw hee!"
Then, the Weasel makes its move. Here and there and everywhere. In fact, it seems rather random about how it goes.
Unexpectedly, the Wild Weasel spins about and shreds through shelves and numerous dolls and play-things like a little tornado of metal and fluff. (Pardon the narrator on the awkward analogies here.) Pieces of wood and cloth go flying, accompanied by little mechanical cries. The Wild Weasel spins one way, then another, then grids against the metal walls forming the corridor, then buzzes on toward the kitchen.
At last, the Wild Weasel spins its way toward the Cabinet, and in a whirlwind of mayhem, just BARELY misses getting the Hare (who is simply too agile and acrobatic), but Integra gives up a little shriek as she's caught up in the whirlwind of mayhem!
"Good Lord!" yelps Achilles, his attention torn away from monkey-tracking by the weasel that has just appeared and apparently taken Integra prisoner. "Griffin! The toys are playing with your niece!"
"Narrrrr!" shrieks the little mechanical weasel, as it spins 'round and 'round. Integra is a blur of blue and white and ribbons as she's spun around in the creature's wake.
"I can't shoot at them!" Griffin complains, torn between the clown walking into his kill-box and the wild weasel wampage..
A pitter-patter of monkey feet can be heard behind the walls, as it seems the Barrel Monkeys have found some other means of escaping the master bedroom, and no doubt will be gumming up the works soon enough.
"I can try to deal with the clown. You save your niece!" March calls out.
There's no help for it. The monkeys will have to wait, Achilles concludes. He can't predict now exactly where they're going to come out, but there's a far more present danger right now. "Griffin! Help me corner the weasel!" yelps the card as he rushes to fence in the wind-up whirlwind.
The Card somehow manages to grab the Wild Weasel in JUST the right spot -- by the tail! The little creature spins around in a blur. Integra falls to the floor (unharmed) with an "Eek!" She gives the toy a very sullen and disapproving look.
Dangling a whirling weasel by the tail, standing out of reach of its flailing limbs, the card considers what to do with his acquisition. At least Integra is safe!
Integra gets up, dusts herself off, and gets WELL away from that frightful little weasel toy. She rushes back to the control cabinet, where she starts pulling levers and wheels anew -- since obviously the Play Room is NOT sufficiently blocked off yet.
Abandoning the toy clown with his explosive act, Griffin turns and rushes towards Ace and the thrashing weasel, intent on slicing the thing in to with his bayonet!
Achilles yelps, "Careful you don't cut me too!" as he holds the weasel well clear of his body.
With a well-aimed bayonet thrust, Griffin manages to make short work of the mechanical weasel, as it spins its bits and bolts all around -- and in the process flapping Achilles around like a toy card-rattle for a few moments. As violent as it seems, amazingly no one comes to any harm from it (well, save for the weasel, that is -- it's most assuredly broken).
The last wall cabinet is ripped away (with more expensive destruction, as some very pretty dishes fall off their perches and smash against the floor), held aloft by another Helping Hand, under Integra's instruction.
"Aigh!" Achilles thumps into the wall and briefly sees stars. "Pop goes the weasel," he mumbles.
"Kitchens are no place for automated spinning devices," Griffin notes.
The little clown toy trundles along, unimpeded, then bumps up against the blocking cabinet. "Oopsie!" it mechanically squeaks.
Shaking himself back to alertness, Achilles tells Harrison and Integra, "The monkeys are loose in the works! See if you can shake loose the ceiling panels and drop them in here."
The potted plant tumbles.
The potted plant wobbles visibly on the other side of the cabinet ... but somehow doesn't actually hit the floor. Whew!
Back in the Play Room, the crazy toys bounce and sing and dance but otherwise don't seem to be inclined to threaten our heroes just yet.
"Are you alright, Integra?" Griffin asks his neice.
"I'm fine, Uncle Griffin," Integra promises, as she furrows her brow, squinting and trying to read the faded labels on the controls. "I think I almost have it sorted out!"
"Time to use the plants to disrupt the toys," March decides. First up, removing the pot near the cabinet and dropping it back into the pile of other toys!
"I could swear I hear one..." Achilles turns, tracking the source of monkey paws busy at work. Then he yelps. "Right behind the cabinet!" He takes his umbrella in both hands and prepares to dive in after it.
The dropped potted plant lands on the huge mechanical music-box, the lid of which is NOT a nice flat surface now that it's open. It predictably falls over, and right into a crowd of toys. The resulting explosion destroys several shelving units and entire toy boxes. Oh the horror! Somehow, the little rocking-nightmare rocks its way out of the blast radius just in time. A little dress-up doll is blackened, but sheltered from the worst of it by her now-fragmented comrades. Her little hands are balled up in frustration at her ruined dress (or maybe they were just sculpted that way).
The spring-loaded head of a destroyed jack-in-the-box shoots out of the room, over the cabinet, and smashes into a couple of china plates that stubbornly avoided being shattered earlier. Can't have THAT!
Turning himself sideways, Achilles slips around Harrison while the rabbit is busy at work, "Pardon me, coming though," and between the rabbit and Integra to reach the cabinet doors. He fits himself neatly under the door, thinking "I've never been so glad to be a two-dimensional character before", before pulling himself up on the other end, launching his umbrella (and himself) at the monkey, hopefully before it can gum up the works too badly!
"Eek!" The monkey behind the cabinet likely thought it had the perfect hiding place. However, that just doesn't seem to have been in the cards. (Gish.) One monkey down.
If memory serves the Card, that should mean just two Barrel Monkeys on the loose from the master bedroom. Judging by the pitter-patter and the occasional "ook" in the shadows, they can't have gotten very far. Still, this is a dangerous place to be. So many churning cogwheels, bouncing springs, chattering switches ... so many places for a card to get folded, spindled or otherwise mutilated.
Those ooks and eeks sound like they're getting ... closer to Achilles. And, it's so dark back here....
"Ha! A perfect lunge, my instructor would have approved," Achilles shouts from inside the cabinet. "I think the other two are on the way though... A little backup might not be inappropriate."
"Integra, maybe you should come away from the cabinet if there are monkeys back there," Griffin advises, before returning to the western barricade and trying to stab the horrible clown.
"I could try to crush them by manipulating the machine to move stuff around in there! You might want to get out, though," March points out.
"Eek!" cries Integra. "You shouldn't be there all by yourself!" she cries to Achilles.
Integra leans wayyyyy into the control works, careful not to get her dressed snagged on anything, and grabs onto Achilles's edge. By the strange Wonderland logic, when she grabs him, it's as if he's flat again, and she manages to work him back through the pipes and gears and chains without snagging on anything (though, granted, most of that is really Achilles's own doing, as he's by no means an inanimate object).
"A good call," says Achilles as he moves back, wary of those nasty looking spinning gizmos. He yelps as Integra catches hold of him, but manages to wriggle his way around the edge.
Just as Achilles is pulled through, he hears a couple of "splat" noises in his wake, and catches a whiff of something disagreeable. Monkeys! The creatures leap upon the spot where the Card was just a moment ago, then shriek in anger at losing their prey. They scramble into the cabinet case, trying to get at him through the works.
The reporter adds, "Just in the nick of time!" as he tries to bring his umbrella to bear against them.
The monkeys fail to grab the reporter, but rather than just staying there and being easy targets for return fire, they scamper away into the shadows.
Achilles jabs wildly at the monkeys in the gap but to no effect! "Foul filth-flingers!" he curses.
Alas for one monkey, it forgot to account for Harrison, who was right there, and with the right tool for the job: a monkey wrench! The monkey is wrenched. That's another monkey down ... one left to go.
"Right! and now comes the part of treating this place as a literal organ grinder. In and out you go!" March says as he manipulates the machine to extend and retract all the helping hands at random in hopes of catching the monkey inside the machine!
Behind the wall, there are creaking, grinding and crashing noises. "Eek!" SLAP "Ook!" CLONG "Ack ack!" CRUNCH "Pbbbbbbbt!" SPLAT "..."
As the monkey scrabbling noises die away, Achilles tucks his umbrella away under one arm, then puts his hands together, applauding. "Bravo, Maestro! Bravo! I have never heard the organ grinder played so well."
On a nearby (monkey-phobic-rat-powered) master control gauge, the Rampaging Barrel Monkey Count has gone down to the green zone at 0.
"Well played!" comes an echoing voice over one of the call-horns, along with the sounds of silverware and china, and then what sounds like tea being poured. "Another gold sovereign for you! Oh, and if you find your way here, you simply must try these new hors d'oeuvres that the automated kitchen delivered to the dinner table!"
Over at the cabinet defense to the Play Room, Griffin's bayonet thrust pops the head off of the wicked-looking little "helpful" clown, but apparently decapitation is not enough to put a good (or bad) toy down. It does, however, seem to confuse it a bit, as it twirls around aimlessly.
Taking his umbrella back out again, Achilles whispers to Harrison, "I don't think we should let on to the White Knight exactly what his hors d'ouevres are made of, he might decide on making monkey a permanent kitchen ingredient. It wasn't bad, but it might seem in bad taste to some part of his work force." He glances around to see if there are other imminent threats. Ack! A beheaded clown!
"There are still some toys in there," Griffin reports. "I think the dress-up doll is angry."
"I can't blame the doll. I didn't like being put in a dress, either," March remarks a bit dryly.
A porcelain wind-up doll sashays over to the corner of the room. "Oh. I need a floral arrangement for my new bonnet." She glances over at the potted plant. No. No, it's NOT a good choice. "This should do perfectly." She hefts it up, then sashays with it down the corridor.
Achilles moves up to assist Griffin with the toys. On catching sight of the potted plant however, an idea comes to him... He lunges, trying to kick the confused clown into the potted plant and the porcelain doll!
"Dear, my dear, that floral arrangement is terrible with your bonnet!" Achilles calls as attempts to shove the clown down the hallway. "Here, allow this fool to assist you!"
The headless clown doll is no match for the Card's shove, as it goes bowling down the hallway.
The plant falls. It explodes. Bits of shrubbery, clown costume, porcelain and lace go flying every which way, but at a safe distance that Achilles and Griffin easily drop behind the cabinet barricade to avoid the shrapnel.
"Your ability to bomb with the ladies never fails to impress me, Achilles," Griffin notes, after ducking down.
The sheer force of the blast in the tight confines forces a couple of the metal walls backwards, wrenching them and denting them in the process. Exposed floor reveals yet more spinning machinery, making it a very bad idea to stumble about here in the dark. (Fortunately, this place is very well-lit in the rooms proper, even in the heavily blast-damaged and monkey-businessed areas.)
The reporter card grins at Griffin's barb with a slightly singed contenance. "It's a curse I must bear."
Achilles takes a deep breath. "What's our next move? We've dealt with the monkeys, so all that's left to handle are these toys." He braces, trying to gather himself back together. He's been rather hectically jostled about in these past few seconds.
"Isn't the horse still up and about? We need to break it," March points out.
"That hallway looks damaged," Griffin notes. "Toys might get into the workings."
Achilles agrees, "They're still ticking. As long as they have to come up through this hallway, we can engage them one at a time, at least." He squints down the corridor.
Down the corridor, what sounds like a miniature, high-pitched organ begins to play. An elegant little doll all dressed in white (except where it's a little singed at the edges from recent explosions) strides into place. Her face is covered in a white veil, and she holds a miniature bouquet. On her back, several pipe organ stacks rise -- playing the music. If there were words, it would be something like "Here comes the bride..." and etc.
Achilles looks unaccountably nervous. "Something about that music... It makes me want to run," the reporter whispers to Griffin.
"I've photographed several weddings," Griffin notes. "But that bride by far has the best set of pipes."
March fiddles with the controls and tries to grab a potted plant from another room, such as the unscathed bedroom, and take it in there to drop on the doll!
It's a bit difficult to get the Helping Hands to grab the plant sight-unseen, but at last March gets the idea that one of the hands has indeed picked up a plant.
Integra gets a peek at the bride doll. "Ohhhhh!" she says, clasping her hands together. "It's so pretty! It doesn't look dangerous. Might I keep it, Uncle?"
Using the cabinet-barricade to help steady his rifle, Gryphon lines up his sights on the Bride Doll. "I wouldn't recommend it, Integra. Don't you have enough dolls at home?"
Right, time to plant something on the bride! Alas, it won't be a kiss," March quips as he steers the hands back to present the doll with a rather different bouquet.
"B-b-but," Integra protests, "are we going to get back home again?" And then what might have just been the first excuse thrown into the discussion (because, after all, it's a TOY) seems to sink in, and she starts to get teary-eyed.
"Given the Wild Weasel, I have to admit I'd be rather wary of any of the dolls that the White Knight has constructed," Achilles says. "For all you know, she could come equipped with a ball and chain to attach to any prospective suitors."
"Sorry, Integra," Griffin says as he squeezes the trigger.
Pack Bits of porcelain and metal framework go flying. The bride doll isn't such a shining thing of beauty anymore. Rather, it's a bit disconcerting that the crafter actually bothered to make a metal skull framework underneath the porcelain. How macabre!
"I'm also having second thoughts about asking the White Knight to make a doll for you now," Griffin says to Integra.
Integra sighs. "Might I help you, Mr. March?" she offers, wiping away a tear.
Ace gasps. "It's Death as a Bride!"
"My concern is the bouquet," Griffin tells Ace.
"That would definitely make anyone think twice about holy matrimony," the reporter mutters as he prepares to defend Griffin from imminent marriage.
"If you want," March tells Integra.
Duffy's guessing he's going to have to roll agility now!
Integra pulls a lever, and the Helping Hand follows the track that Harrison set for it. The hand pops out of panels, carrying the potted plant precariously, then popping back in again -- out of the hall, out of the pantry closet, and then finally out of a ceiling panel in the Play Room. It then promptly lets go, dropping its "bouquet" right down on top of the mechanical bride.
There is an explosion. Then there is a secondary explosion. Then a few others. Achilles and Griffin throw themselves behind the kitchen prep table as the remainder of the cabinet is shredded in the shrapnel blasting down the hallway. Wall panels are knocked askew, or fall entirely from their hinges. Support rods shoot through the kitchen walls, smashing clockwork appliances and scattering sharp cutlery everywhere.
As the nearby wall leaps forward, Achilles is nearly knocked off his feet-- which would no doubt result in him being flattened and trapped beneath the moving panel. He manages to windmill his way back onto stable footing, jumping backward. "For such a pretty little thing, she packed quite a bang!" he exclaims.
When the smoke finally clears, all is quiet in the Play Room. In fact, it's hardly a room anymore, as the walls have been knocked aside, and loose ceiling panels swing in place, and a lone shelf staggers then collapses in a heap.
There is a newly-exposed door amidst the wreckage, surrounded by spinning gears and dangerous-looking cog-works. The door is curious, for it isn't even set in a wall, but it looks as if stepping through from one side to the other would be a short trip into the shredder (and hence, not advised). It's mounted on tracks, and appears to be just as mobile as the rest of the furnishings, so perhaps it serves some sort of purpose in the grand scheme of things.
Of the toys, there are only bits and pieces left, and those few intact toys seem to have been knocked out of order and in need of a few winds or a bit of repair at the very least to get going again. Anything with an explosive nature seems to have already gone off in the chain reaction.
"Hjckrrh!" Griffin squawks, peeking up from behind the table he'd leapt behind. "Quite the reception. Is everyone alright?"
The "Rampaging Dangerous Toys" gauge (there's a GAUGE for this?!?) drops to the green zone, pointing to "Zero."
"Congratulations!" cheers the White Knight over the vocal-trumpet. "That's another gold sovereign! I'll have to rebuild everything regardless, so if you can scavenge anything you can use for yourselves, you're welcome to it."
"Shaken, not stirred," says Achilles as he tries to gather his wits again.
"I'm still alive, I think. I don't have any uncontrollable urges to kill you all," March comments a bit dryly. "I also hope we won't be billed for breaking all the White Knight's stuff..."
The reporter adds, "We might want to move the girls' gnu back to the Queens' Room before we unblock the bedroom."
Integra dusts off her dress, as she rights herself (having been bowled over with all the quaking and rocking of the exploding rooms). "I must confess, Uncle, I think you were very right about that doll after all."
"Good point," March agrees, and tries to move the Gnu back ... and disconnect its steam line once it is back in position.
"Otherwise the White Knight might have a bit of an unpleasant surprise when he retires for the night," finishes Achilles.
The reporter goes to give March a hand. "Once that's done, I think we might want to look over the toys-- there might be one or two things we can repurpose-- and recover our wits before the Conservatory and its "Scare-Crows"."
After reloading his rifle, Griffin slings it over his shoulder and says, "It sounds like we're to meet him in the dining room, if he had food delivered to him. Is there anything in that cabinet that would let us talk to him?"
"Sure, why not? And maybe there might be stuff we can sell, if not use. Bartering is the name of the game, after all," March agrees.
The reporter heads toward the toy room to investigate its remaining toys, with an eye toward the smaller ones that aren't by themselves mobile, but rather could be used as tools or weapons... or armor. He opens his umbrella to protect himself against any debris that might fall from the now rather shaken ceiling.
"Integra, have you found a means for talking to the White Knight through these contraptions?" Griffin asks his niece next to the control cabinet. "He can certainly talk to us after all."
Before leaving the contro cabinet, Harrison makes sure the Gnu is put back in its place in the bathroom by reversing the levers that moved it in the first place.
Integra points out a chain. "I'm not sure, but this says 'Call for assistance.' At least, I think it does." That might be an "ll," but it just looks like a scribble. For all that can be told, it might be "Cat for assistance" or "Can for assistance."
"Assistance is almost always welcome though," Griffin muses. "Let's give it a try?"
From the master bedroom, there's a confused "GNORT?" and then the sounds of Helping Hands at work. Somewhere to the south, there is a sound of rapid-fire soap from the ladies' room, followed by the pervasive smell of lavender.
Integra pulls the chain. There is a mechanical bird-call noise. It sounds like ... "CAW!"
A hatch pops open, revealing a chute. Down the chute can be heard an echoing noise and something tumbling and fluttering and going "CAW! CAW! CAWWWWW!" in a very agitated voice, until -- SPOOT! A disheveled-looking black bird is spat out of the chute and into the kitchen. The black bird shakes itself out, quickly preens some of its feathers, then finds a little messenger cap that was dropped on the floor next to it. The bird picks it up with its beak, flips it into the air, then sticks its head out and catches it neatly, as the strap falls under its beak. "You cawed?" it croaks.
"Yes," Griffin replies to the crow. "We wish to know more about the Conservatory. Especially if there is anything within that might explode?"
Meanwhile, Achilles is making headway with an inventory of the Play Room. There is a large toy box that seems to hold relatively mundane toys, but these are most assuredly to be rejected by any child -- frightening clowns, scary baby dolls, toy weapons that might actually poke eyes out if one's not careful, and so on. What's most remarkable about the toy box, however, is that it almost certainly is holding far more inside it than could be justified by its outside.
"Hmm. I do believe this is a Toybox of Many Toys," calls the reporter from the other room. "Not immediately useful for our purposes though, unless you have a need for toys in bulk quantities." He moves on to the next item.
The crow ponders this, then croaks, "The Caw-servatory is a place of much bountiful delight! But it is guarded by monsters fearsome and unfriendly to all! ... But, no explosives, no."
"What do the monsters do to dissuade visitors?" Griffin asks next.
As Achilles works along, the next item is slightly disturbing. The dress-up doll is rather large compared to the others. In fact, it is quite life-sized for a child of about Integra's age, and if not directly observed might pass for the real thing. It appears to operate by means of a large wind-up key which has currently popped out (not that it would need to be in place to operate -- just to wind it up, of course).
The crow looks both ways furtively, then leeeeeeans in to whisper conspiringly to Griffin, "They SCARE you. They scare you to DEATH!"
Next in the Play Room would be the Nightmare Rocking Horse. It is rather mechanical for a rocking horse. In fact, if anything, the fact that its legs are stuck onto bowed wooden skids (for rocking) would seem to impede its mobility considerably. Like the life-sized dress-up doll, it is larger than the average toy (large enough for a child of Integra's size to ride -- or perhaps an adult with considerable awkwardness) and appears to be powered via a wind-up key.
"I see," Griffin replies, tapping the end of his beak. "Do they move when they do that?"
"Not at all!" the crow reports. "That's what makes it even MORE scary!"
"Do they scream or make noises then?" the Gryphon asks. "Breathe fire? Throw things?"
Achilles takes a note. "A mechanical mannikin which might do rather well at impersonating Integra, if we changed her wig out and dressed them alike. I cannot currently see how that would be immediately useful, but the option is available. A rocking horse. Given the singe marks, I believe it has survived several explosions, so it must be more agile than it appears, but otherwise, I'm uncertain as to any special abilities it might possess. And of course, there is this mysterious door... Hmm. I have a suspicion this might lead somewhere else."
Amidst the Play Room debris, Achilles finds the remains of a giant jack-in-the-box, formerly with a Punch-style head and a torso decked out in a mockery of gardening gear, complete with apron and sun hat. It is equipped with a watering pot and what look to be mechanical hedge-trimmers. These hedge-trimmers look far too effective to be appropriate on a toy.
The Crow flutters its wings, shuddering and then hiding behind them. "Nothing at all. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING AT ALL! It's horrifying, I tell you!"
"Ah! Hedge trimmers. They might be of use for the Conservatory," exclaims Achilles as he appropriates them and the watering pot to bring back to the others.
Griffin calls back to Achilles," Does the dress up doll look intact enough to walk? It might make a good decoy."
The hedge trimmers appear to be usable as ordinary hedge trimmers, albeit rather heavy and bulky ones. However, there is a wind-up key, and a release lever. It appears that if one were to wind them up, they have an automated cutting action.
March closes up the cabinet and goes to see what sort of trouble Ace is getting into. "No far keeping all the good stuff, you know," he announces as he approaches.
Achilles adds, "This Punch seems to be dressed to garden, with a rather sturdy apron and sun hat. If we put those on the dress-up doll... You might have a decoy."
Griffin then thinks to ask the bird, "What if you were to close your eyes when entering? Would you still be terrified?"
"To enter the room without SEEING where I'm GOING?" The Crow almost turns white (almost -- okay, not really at all, but it just SEEMS like he SHOULD, the way he's shaking at the thought). "Oh, perish the thought! The thought of it might make me perish!"
"What about gardeners?" Griffin prompts the crow. "Surely the scarecrows let them in to work?"
"Gardeners?" the crow asks. "Oh! You mean the Caw-kwork Pawns! They're frightened of nothing. They're only machines, you know."
"Ah, thank you for that, Mr. Crow," Griffin notes.
Achilles greets Harrison with a quick run-down. "The wind-up Punch here was equipped to garden with these trimmers and this watering can," he advises. "There's a box that's full of far too many toys to reasonably fit its confines, but I didn't try to find the bottom. There's the dress-up doll, and the rocking horse, and what I think is a door to the Hall of Doors. It fits-- the Wild Weasel might have been what shredded that bit of paper back then."
"You're better than I at spotting items that might be exceptionally useful though," the reporter adds. "Maybe you can make more sense of what's left?"
"The mechanical servants are not affected by the scarecrows in the Conservatory," Griffin adds in. "We might be able to make use of the surviving toys to disable them somehow."
Griffin goes to examine the dress-up doll and rocking 'horse' to see if they can be easily fixed, controlled and.. if they contain anything that looks like it might explode.
Harrison is able to identify the toy box as ... a Toy Box. It's a very special toy box, of course, but the important thing is that it is "large enough to hold all your toys." As a nice little feature, it is even on wheels with a pull-rope. It might take some effort to explore the matter of exactly how much it can hold, but probably enough that would otherwise fill an entire wagon. The catch is that it can only hold TOYS -- or, that is, items that by some stretch of the imagination are toys. A Chessman or Card might be able to fit inside. You might be able to persuade it to hold an Animal if he had thoroughly gorged himself first at dinner (thus being a Stuffed Animal). A rocking horse would of course fit the bill, even if it were the size of a real horse. A toy sword would work, even if it was just as lethal as the real thing. But a REAL thing that is not a toy? Not at all.
"So, were you able to reach the White Knight?" asks Achilles of Griffin. "I thought I heard you talking to someone."
Griffin's examination of the oversized doll and rocking horse confirms Achilles's initial survey: There is nothing that should prove to be explosive, as they are thoroughly clockwork-powered (though of the perplexing sort of Wonderland clockwork technology that defies close examination to figure out just HOW it works to such a level of complexity, or how in the world a few winds of the key can power these to do as much work as they might). The dress-up doll has a panel on its back with a number of selections for activities. Getting it to do precisely what one wants is likely to involve getting deeper into the controls, and a few tools.
As for the horse, its mechanisms appear to be largely concerned with ferrying about whomever may be riding it, though based on its previous behavior it seems to have a suspicious amount of autonomy once running. It has a name plate on its back where the happy child who receives this horse can carve in his or her name, making ownership official. The plate is currently left blank.
"Well, we have our coal-mine canary here," Griffin says of the dress-up-doll. "She won't be affected by fear, if that is somehow projected by the scarecrows. And the horse can carry something.. I think. It may need to be a person, but the doll would probably count."
"Scarecrows, eh? Well, if all they do is loom over you and look scary, I think we can handle that," the reporter card says with a fierce grin. He considers. "Perhaps we should reserve the horse for Integra to ride on our travels. With a paint job, it might look rather less distressing. We don't need to throw everything we have at one room full of tattered straw-stuffed mannekins."
"Huh. This box is interesting," Harrison remarks. "It can hold lots of stugff. All your toys, if it can be somehow argued to be a toy, I think. I'm not sure it can be completely filled up. How useful that is ... I'm not sure. Now, if we manage to find some toy-like enemies again, we could lock them away ... but ... I'm not sure it is worth dragging this large thing around."
The reporter considers. "Well, it might be an excellent way to smuggle some of us around," he suggests.
"We could use the toys to bribe people," Griffin suggests. "Or have the rocking horse pull it."
"And that reminds me ... did anyone find a saddle the right size for Griffin? He could carry Integra around..." March jokes.
"After all, a bird with the saddle is worth two on foot," he adds.
Griffin just eyes the hare, but does wonder, "Would my camera equipment be considered a toy?"
Achilles eyes the rocking horse's saddle, then Griffin. "Sadly, I suspect Griffin's not in good enough condition to bear a rider," he admits.
"But if he exercises he might be. Trim a little off his gut and all that," March argues.
The Gryphon retrieves the toy tin soldier from his pocket, which also carries his ammunition box. "Hmmm."
The reporter sums it up. "As I see it, we might save the nightmare for Integra to ride... We should carve her name on it. We can equip the dress-up doll with the hedge trimmers and send her in to distract the Scare-Crows, and we pick them off."
"That sounds reasonable," Griffin says suspiciously. "I'll get to work on the doll and horse, if you can bring me the clippers."
"If you don't have any CAWSE for me to remain," the Crow says, "or CAWS for me to make on your behalf, I'll just be going now." He seems rather nervous at the mention of the Scarecrows again.
"Theoretically, you two should be able to pick them off at a distance while they are busy trying to scare the doll," Achilles argues. He holds out the clippers for Griffin to take.
"If anyone has any questions for the Knight, the crow can convey them if it doesn't know the answer," Griffin informs everyone, before going to work on the doll first to see if she can be made to use the clippers and move about.
The card adds, "I of course will remain behind to inspire you with my leadership and be ready to take a hand, should they unexpectedly sprout legs or the garden emits pests that besiege us." He tips his hat to the crow.
It looks as if among the many buttons and features (how can this many fit in such a space? -- or perhaps it's best not to think too hard about it) the doll has the option to "Play Gardening."
"How corn-venient," the Gryphon chortles, and gets to work making the doll operable again.
"Ask the crow if it only scares crows to death," Harrison calls out, "Or if it actually does work on people too."
"I'm sure crows may count as people, but.." Griffin mutters, before cawing out, "Do the scarecrows only scare crows to death, Mr. Crow?"
The Crow shrugs. "Who else would want to get into the Caw-servatory?"
"Also, we might need to be careful in there, what with all the ears about. Who knows who they might be listening for," Harrison points out.
"The Cawservatory is directly to your south, as I fly," the Crow says, "well, except for the walls. But those can always be moved."
A short while later, the group has returned to the parlor/kitchen, and with a bit of experimentation, Integra finds the right levers to pull and wheels to crank in order to replace the south entry way with the conservatory.
Right next to the doors, Griffin begins winding up the doll for its planned gardening run, complete with heavy automatic hedge clippers.
At Integra's insistence, the dead Barrel Monkey caught in the control cabinet has been popped out and shoved off somewhere sight-unseen (or else she couldn't bear to get anywhere near the controls). She also dragged the odd door into the room, just in case it might be useful to block some opening that monsters might pour through otherwise. To the south, mechanical tweeting birds and other "autumn noises" can be heard from the simulated corn field, and rotating fans occasionally spin up to make a breeze. The Crow has long since vanished rather than facing the Scary Scarecrows ... even though, truth be told, they really do not seem to do much of anything.
"Are we all ready?" Griffin asks after removing the key from the doll's back, activating the clippers and getting ready to press the 'Gardening' button.
The clippers chatter away menacingly, threatening to trim more than just hedges if anything gets within reach.
"Let's show these scarecrows who's actually scary," says Achilles, grinning.
The reporter reaches over the doll's shoulder, ready to push the door open the instant that Griffin hits the button... Otherwise she might turn around, and that would surely end badly for him.
"Dear chap, your face would scare the grim reaper itself," Harrison points out. "Now, while that has been on occasion handy in allowing me the chance to calm the fluttering heart of a lady you just scared, most of the time it is a bit of a disadvantage."
"Just another splinter of the cross I bear," Achilles says with a sigh.
The team is coordinated. They wait for the sign and ... go! The doors open. The doll marches forward, ready to do ... gardening things. The scarecrows ... well, if one were a crow, one MIGHT be scared by them, but they don't seem to be putting much work into it, especially considering how mechanized everything else here has been.
"Does it feel a bit anticlimatic to you?" March whispers to Ace and Griffin. "I expected some sort of death beams."
Griffin watch the doll work for a bit, and also eyes the nearer scarecrows. "The crow said they didn't do anything.." he notes.
The scarecrows do ... NOTHING! The Crow was right. However, there's something more than a little unsettling about the southwestern scarecrow. It looks as if it has a crow skull for a head. Plus, there's an eerie green glow in those sockets. Wait ... that's not right.
"Remember, they are nothing but straw-stuffed mannekins-- no scarier than one of our MPs, and I for one did not vote for any one of this pack," exhorts Achilles as he catches sight of the green glow. "We are Englishmen! We serve no one and bend our knees to no one save the Queen herself!"
That green glow. That bony look. That isn't a scare crow. That is a SCARED crow. One that was scared not just to death ... but to UNDEATH.
"CAW."
"Wow, maybe there was some cawse to fear," Harrison jokes nervously.
Griffin's neck feathers poof out a bit. "Really.. the White Knight needs to review his methods.." he mutters.
"Gentlemen, settle down and take your best shots. Now we know what they're made of, and it will not stand up to good English mettle," barks Achilles. He deploys his umbrella as a shield, in case there's something in there that might shoot back at us.
"But look at it this way, Griffin ... now you know what the inside of your current head sort of looks like," March quips.
Harrison crouches and lines up his shot with practiced ease. Maybe the tinge of fear he feels has made him focus. Or maybe .. who knows! His left lip curls up a bit and he huffs a breath, flipping one of his ears out of the way as the sights line up. Time for a little cawsality as defined by a bullet," he mutters as he squeezes the trigger slowly. The barrel erupts with a boom! Almost instantaneously the scared grow explodes in a shower of undead feathers and bone shards! "And I don't mean to crow about it, but that was a grand shot," he quips.
"Indeed, that's a feather in your cap," jokes Achilles. "Griffin! Let's see you put that pumpkin's lights out."
The scarecrow falls to the ground, kicking up a cloud of unhealthy-looking green mist, lost behind the little corn-rows.
The other scarecrows don't look nearly so scary. In fact, they show no reaction whatsoever.
Just to check that the surviving scarecrows really are normal ones, Griffin takes a shot at the nearest one.
Pumpkin-bits go flying! The straw hat spins through the air and bounces against the painted horizon, then slides down into the corn. The scarecrow wobbles from the force, then falls over, resting limply against the wall.
While Griffin busies himself with the nearer scarecrow, Achilles advances carefully, his umbrella held like a shield, to be ready to engage the other scarecrow nearby.
"Go on doll, give that scarecrow a trim," Griffin says. "He's looking a bit frayed."
The gardener doll walks right over to the scarecrow in the southeast corner, and with her amazing clockwork shears, trims the scarecrow right apart. Straw and pumpkin bits go flying. Another scarecrow down.
"Where there's fashion, there's sewing," Griffin quips proudly. "And you reap what you sew, as they say."
"Unless I miss my guess, the scared-to-death crow was the only one who actually did anything worth mentioning," says the reporter. Nevertheless, he presses his attack, flipping his umbrella closed in a practiced move and sweeping the tip through the stick holding it up. "You, sir. I didn't vote for you."
Crack. The base breaks. The scarecrow falls. Well! That must be that.
"CAW," whispers a voice on the artificial breeze, in Achilles's ear.
The reporter startles. "Did you hear that?"
"Does anyone else feel it was too easy? I expect the corn to rise up and attack us," March remarks.
"Well there was that green mist," Griffin notes, reloading his rifle.
"CAW," the voice says, louder. The mechanical fans pick up, and the wall-panels rock in place. The green mist rises from the corn-field and begins to coalesce. It looks ... skeletal ... bird-like.
"Didn't hear anything and look at my ears," March notes, "I mean ... uh." The hare pauses mid-comment to watch the death-crow spawn.
Achilles brandishes his umbrella. "It looks as we aren't quite done with the Scare-Crow yet!"
The green-glowing, spectral crow swoops down on Achilles in a ghostly frenzy. "CAWWWWWWW!"
"I've heard of eating crow when your boast deflates, but being eaten by a crow is definitely not the same thing," the Gryphon squawks.
The crow passes THROUGH Achilles's umbrella! But fortunately, the opened umbrella seems to have nonetheless thrown the spirit off, as it loses sight of the Card hiding behind it. As it passes, Achilles feels a cold chill. This doesn't feel like a product of anything mechanical that the White Knight might have invented in his casual careless disregard of safety. This is something downright ... unholy.
Achilles yelps. "Hey! You could use a little trimming there, you're looking a little long in the talons!" he says, beating back its attack.
"Do we have anything to ward of ghosts and demons?" March calls out. "Anyone have a cross? A bible? Holy water? Something?!"
Achilles quips, "I've got smelling salts, they'll wake the dead! Or nearly dead." Nevertheless, he rakes it with his eyes, looking to see if there's some material part-- perhaps the skull's fragments hanging in midair. Or perhaps its body is still in here, in a tiny little crypt marked 'Mortimer R. Crow.'
It looks as if this thing is entirely incorporeal. Any remnants of its mortal coil got reduced to fragments lying in the artificial cornfield.
"Integra, grab some pots and pans and bang them together!" Griffin calls, and starts banging on the metal wall with the butt of his rifle and yelling his head off at the ghost. Everyone knows loud noises scare off evil spirits!
Behind the walls, countless rats shriek and scamper away. Cages pop open. Parts clatter.
"Chin up! So it isn't deterred by a hue and cry-- it's still just a crow at heart. We'll outwit this thing! Let's show it real English spirit and scare it back where it came from!" yells Achilles.
"Hey! Why don't we dress like scarecrows ourselves!" March suggests.
"Griffin! Fluff your feathers, give it that steely-eyed look! March! Get to the cupboard, and switch us to the Chapel! Use your watch if you need to. I'm going to try and scare this thing back out of here," calls Achilles.
The Gryphon does his best to puff up, hiss, spread his wings and talons and try to look like a big scary predator (while wearing glasses). He even hops up and down a bit!
"On it! I'll try to get the chapel" March agrees.
Integra struggles with the controls, but she's fumbling too much to work it out. "I ... I can't find it!" she whimpers.
"GACK!" shrieks the Scared-Crow. It is indeed a scary thing, but apparently the fact that it met its death by being scared to death has granted it a persistent yellow streak even in the afterlife.
"Hah! Get it with the scarecrow you tipped over, Ace!" Griffin calls to encourage the card.
The wind-up doll, meanwhile, completes its circuit around the cornfield. This brings it into contact with the crow, with its powered trimmers. Alas, physical weaponry no longer seems to have any effect upon the creature's ethereal form, other than to stir up the sickly green mists a little bit.
"Chapel, chapel! It has to be here somewhere," March mutters after having dashed over to the control panel to help out Integra
The room undergoes a sudden and drastic transition, as the floor becomes like a chessboard, and the walls fill with iconography (that looks suspiciously like chess pieces). A shrine forms around the control cabinet, and stained glass windows are back-lit with gaslights.
Achilles advances against the undead crow as the room transforms behind him, reaching down with one hand to grab the intact scarecrow. He raises this upward and begins speaking to the Scared-Crow, his voice low at first, then rising.
"Mr. Crow. You might remember Harrison when he shot you just a minute ago. He is the deadliest shot ever to hop on two feet. And you might know Griffin. Not only is he a mighty Griffin, a predator of the sky who tramples on your kind with steely talons, he is equipped as one of the fighting Rifle Brigade, Britain's finest soldiers. And behind me is the symbol of God, England's church, and the one true religion. But you haven't met me yet." The white scar tightens over Achilles's glass eye. "I'm the Ace of Spades, and I, sir, am the scariest thing you ever will see because no matter what happens, Hell or high water, fire or famine, I will keep on coming for you. I'm going to give you to the count of three. If you want to continue to exist... You had better get out of here and never come back."
He raises the scarecrow. "One."
He begins walking toward the shaken Scared Crow, apparently fearless. "Two."
And suddenly, he lunges forward, thrusting the Scare-Crow straight for its eye, the same one that March recently shot out. "THREE!"
The crow-spirit looked to be unsettled enough as it was by the manifestation of a chapel where before was a disaster-wracked kitchen. Achilles's performance, however, seals the deal. "CAW!!!!" it shrieks, and then there is a swelling of its form that suddenly claps in on itself. Not a bit of green mist is left. The air is once more clear.
"I know how those scarecrows feel now," Griffin remarks, as he tries to pat down the feathers and fur that puffed up under his clothes. "My throat hurts too. Good thing crows are a CAWardly lot."
The reporter whews, lowering the Scare-Crow to the ground. "Good thing we didn't have to go to plan B," he says, leaning on his umbrella.
"So ... are we finally done? Is the White Knight's manor all back into .. shape?" March asks ... then has to give the blown apart walls a dubious glance.
Griffin does pick up the nearby scarecrow hat to try on, though, as he moves to get behind the wind-up doll to turn her off.
"TARAN-TARA!" comes the fanfare over the voice-trumpet. "Congratulations! Home sweet home again!"
Achilles grins. "Well, let's put it this way, he's going to have less trouble cleaning it up and rebuilding, than he was before we started." He considers the scarecrow hat on the one he so recently brandished. It's a ratty old top hat, but it might have absorbed certain virtues... He stashes it in his travel bag.
March reloads the spent shell in his revolver cane, then makes his way back to the others. "One can never have enough hats," he quips to Ace. "And if nothing else, we'll just have to out fashion Queen Alice, eh?"
"Well, let's get your name on the horse, Integra," Griffin says as he rejoins his niece.
Achilles turns to follow Griffin in, but seeing the altar, decides that perhaps this is a good time to make up for lost time. He kneels before it and makes a simple but heartfelt prayer. "Lord God in Heaven, thank you for preserving our wretched selves. Please forgive us our sins as we fight against Queen Alice, and guide us through this vale of tears, so that we may find our way home again. Amen."
"You know what I want right now? A nice meal, a comfy bed, and some normalcy," March remarks from where he leans on his cane. "I miss being human and I fear the longer I stay like this the harder it's going to be to turn back. And really ... what will I do if I have to spent the rest of my days as a rabbit?" He shakes his head. "So the sooner we can put a atop to the Queen's nefarious plan, the better. Lets not forget we're trying to escape this weird world, eh?"