Vell Harlan and the Doomsday Dorms

“There’s your problem,” Vell said. “You’re off by a millimeter on the upward stroke.”

“Christ, I need a new chisel,” Amy said. “Can’t control this one for shit.”

“A millimeter seems like an incredibly small distance,” Alex said.

“Yeah, but those small things can have a big impact on a rune,” Amy explained. As part of her gradual attempts at reformation, she was taking a second stab at runecarving with Vell’s study group. She had to sit at the opposite end of the table from Isabel, though.

“No, no, I’m aware,” Alex said. “I meant it was weird Vell could notice that just by looking at it.”

The study group turned to look at Vell. While there were magnifying lenses and measuring tools available, he hadn’t used any of them.

“Yeah, he’s just like that,” Amy said.

“You know him for a few years you stop questioning that kind of thing.”

“Hmm.”

Alex had always been aware of Vell’s supposed skills, but never actually stopped to appreciate his work, nor to compare him to any of his peers. Sitting in on the study group, she could see that he could carve intricate runes in half the time it took his classmates, and he made errors much less often as he did so. Alex wondered just how many other details about her teammates she had missed due to her own arrogance.

One detail she had not (and could not) miss was Kim’s propensity to barrel through doors. She didn’t have to worry about property damage on the first loop, and in sufficiently urgent situations it was faster for her to just keep running right through a door rather than stopping to open it. Also, Kim thought it was fun. She had a great time as she barreled right through the door to the lab and skidded to a halt next to Vell’s seat.

“Vell, we got a situation with a giant carnivorous worm,” Kim said. Vell sighed.

“Mutated, magical, or extra-dimensional?”

“You know, I didn’t stop to ask.”

“Quick question,” Alex said. “Does the giant worm also manifest glowing balls of light?”

“No, Alex, why would it- fuck.”

Kim turned around and saw a glowing ball of light coalescing behind her.

“This better not be related, last thing we need is a worm with a fucking beam attack again,” Kim said. The members of Vell’s study group had been relatively unfazed by the giant carnivorous worm, and even by the mystery ball of light, but a worm with a beam attack was a bridge too far.

“Again?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Vell said, as they continued to worry about it. “Alex, anything magical about the light ball?”

“Let me see,” Alex said. She cautiously held up her hands and tried to call up a spell to evaluate the magical anomaly. An orb of gray light appeared between her hands, flickering with sparks of green that surged out of control momentarily before Alex released the magic and dropped her hands. A few loose flares singed her fingertips, but caused no real damage. “Sorry. Still not quite there yet.”

“You’ll get there, for now, just-”

“Incoming!”

Kim spotted a figure appearing the midst of the ball of light, and immediately shouted the warning. Then she grabbed the study group’s table and flipped it on its side for shelter, and everyone took cover behind it. Even hiding behind the cover of the table, they could see the light flare, and a humanoid figure take shape -then promptly flop to the floor with a slight jingling of bells.

Kim was the first to poke her head up.

“Hmm. I hate this.”

Vell looked up, followed by Alex. Across the room, a small figure, roughly three feet tall (three and a half, if the pointed red hat was included) stood with his legs spread and his hands on his hips in a jocular pose. As soon as the oddly gnomish figure realized he was being watched, rosy cheeks split into a wide, buck-toothed smile, and he started to do a dance, causing the bells on the curled toes of his shoes to jingle.

“Hi-diddle-diddle and hi-diddle-daster, I’m Bicklebong the Riddlemaster!”

Bicklebong’s dance stopped, and the other members of the study group peered over the edge of the table. Bicklebong started dancing again.

“I’ve heard Vell Harlan’s very smart, so I’ve come to make a challenge start,” Bicklebong said. “If you want to prove you’re so clever, answer my riddles forever and ever!”

The song and dance stopped, but the bells kept jingling for a few seconds after Bicklebong stopped moving. Kim stared at the odd gnome until the jingling ceased, and then turned to Vell.

“Let’s kill him.”

“No.”

“Ugh, I hate this,” Hawke groaned. “Why do I have to touch it?”

“There is a lot of it to touch,” Kim snapped. The giant deathworm was currently coiled around her body in several places, and she simply did not have the limbs to hold on to any more of it. Hawke, and several other loopers, had been conscripted to corral the giant worm while they got it back into its containment cell.

“Just stay calm,” Vell said. “Keep it contained, keep it moving, and- fuck.”

Kim checked the time and realized that their worm-wrangling had taken a little longer than they’d hoped. So long, in fact, that a ball of light was appearing near Vell. A certain rhyming gnome was making his uninvited appearance yet again.

“Hi-diddle-diddle and hi-diddle-da-”

“Hi-diddle go fuck yourself,” Kim said. Bicklebong stopped his dance with a pathetic jingle of his bells.

“Why so rude? I’m just a little riddle dude.”

“We’ve already got a lot going on, bud, don’t need any fucking riddles in the mix,” Kim said. “I have a giant carnivorous worm wrapped around my torso, I got no time for this shit.”

“Worms for the body, words for the mind,” Bicklebong said. “Hear my riddle, then an answer find!”

“I will absolutely not do that,” Kim said.

“What can make-”

“Shut up,” Kim snapped.

“Maybe if we answer a riddle he’ll go away,” Vell said. They had mostly ignored Bicklebong—and then got eaten by an even bigger carnivorous worm—on the first loop.

“Hey-diddle-diddle and hey-diddle-darted, I’ll never leave until I’m outsmarted!”

“Okay then, what’s your fucking riddle?”

“What can make one man into two?”

“A mirror,” Vell said, with no hesitation.

“Correct!”

Bicklebong threw up his hands, and a shower of confetti sprayed into the air. When the last of the colorful dust settled, Bicklebong was still there.

“Light as a feath-”

“Hold on, we answered the fucking riddle,” Kim said. “We outsmarted you, you’re supposed to leave.”

“How’ve you outsmarted me when you answered only one?” Bicklebong said. “You must answer all my riddles, and then we’re done!”

Kim’s fist clenched so tight she nearly decapitated the worm they were transporting.

“How many riddles do you know?”

“Hoo-diddle-diddle and hoo-diddle-dillion, I know four-hundred and fifty-seven trillion!”

Kim turned to look at Vell.

“I’m feeding him to the worm.”

“No,” Vell sighed.

Alex saw the first flickers of light and put her head in her hands.

“Vell, if this is some kind of test of my patience-”

“It’s not,” Vell said. “It’s really fucking not.”

“Poody-doo and poody-dee, who’s ready for riddle eighty-three?”

Vell and Alex let out a simultaneous groan. In spite of all their attempts to be rid of him, Bicklebong the Riddlemaster continued to appear at random intervals through the day, and had been doing so for almost a week now. He usually disappeared after a few riddles, but as they were only eighty-three riddles into more than four-hundred trillion, that was no comfort.

“What word is always pronounced wrong?”

“Wrong,” Alex sighed. Bicklebong shot some confetti out of his hands, as he did every time they answered a riddle correctly. They were getting really sick of sweeping up confetti too.

“You know, this’d at least be interesting if your riddles weren’t so fucking easy,” Vell said.

“They’re always easy for the first few million,” Bicklebong said. “The real fun starts at eighteen billion!”

“That was a stretch,” Alex said. “And why do you talk in rhymes anyway?”

“Poody-doo and poody-dation, I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“Well now you’re just being fucking rude.”

“Poody-doo and poody-dawk, you’re one to talk!”

Alex almost retaliated, but shut her mouth as soon as she saw the blur of metal approaching from behind. Vell saw it approaching too, and almost protested. Almost.

“Above the belt, Kim,” he said. That was the only caveat he had anymore.

There was no way to tell if Kim heard him, or cared, as she reached her target and swung a specially-designed hydraulic leg directly into Bicklebong. The impact caused a faint jingle which faded into the distance as the gnomish being careened through the air and vanished over the horizon. Vell breathed a sigh of relief at the blissful, non-rhyming silence, however brief it was.

“You know that doesn’t work, right?”

“Freddy thinks his ability to return might have something to do with him landing,” Kim said. She patted an over sized metallic thigh, emphasizing the leg they’d specially designed for this specific purpose. “If our calculations are correct, I just kicked him into a stable orbit. If he never lands-”

“Your math is on point, but your theory’s no hit,” Bicklebong said, from behind Kim. “You’ll have to do better to put me in orbit!”

Kim kicked him again anyway.

“I’m losing my fucking mind with this gnome,” Samson said. “You really expect me to believe you had nothing to do with it?”

“Of all the possible ways I could torment you,” Helena began. “How and why would I create an unkillable riddle gnome?”

“I don’t know, your boss is into some fucked up shit,” Samson said. “He could’ve-”

“Shibby-dibby-dingle and shibby-dibby-doo, time for riddle three hundred and two!”

Samson spun around, grabbed Bicklebong and slammed him into the dirt, then jumped up and down on top of his gnomish body for a few seconds to pound him into a small crater. As soon as Samson stopped to catch his breath, Bicklebong reappeared entirely unscathed a few feet away.

“The more you take, the more you leave behind! What am I?”

“Footsteps,” Helena said, effortlessly. “Aren’t you a riddlemaster? This shit is from cheap joke books.”

“He says they get better later on,” Samson sighed.

“So says me! Now time for riddle three hundred and three!”

“Could I hurt him this time?”

“Go right the fuck ahead,” Samson said.

Helena picked Bicklebong up by his conical hat and swung him full speed into the nearest wall, then did it a few more times.

“That was cathartic,” Helena said.

“Try going again, we all know you got anger issues.”

While they bickered, Bicklebong riddled.

“What belongs to you, but other people use it more than you?”

“Your name,” Samson said. “Oh, and fun fact, apparently the Bicklebong curse is communicable. Shows up to people you’ve had recent contact with too. So now he’s going to be bothering you too.”

“Hmm. So you came to me on purpose just to get me cursed with the gnome,” Helena said. Samson nodded. “I feel like you’re going to regret that.”

Helena flashed a lopsided smile at Samson and walked away, leaving Bicklebong alone with Samson.

“Shibby-dibby-dingle and shibby-dibby-dension, am I sensing some sexual tension?”

“Shut the fuck up, Bicklebong.”

Six hooded figures assembled around a ritual circle, lit only be faint candlelight. They raised their hands in unison and chanted in a low drone.

“Y'ai kadishtu, Yog-Sothoth h'ee,” the six spoke as one. “Y'ai kadishtu, Yog-Sothoth h'ee uaaah.”

The ritual circle glowed with scouring light, flickering with colors impossible for the human mind to comprehend. As the colors out of space danced across the walls, a single undulating mass of yellow tendrils appeared from the portal and coalesced into a single spherical mass that writhed to the tune of soundless music as the tentacles slowly spread in all directions.

Vell Harlan lowered his hood.

“Hey, Yog-Sothoth, it’s Vell.”

The tendrils stopped writhing, and the colors stopped dancing, as the tentacle ball hung inert in the air.

“Oh, Vell, my man,” Yog said. He extended a single tendril in Vell’s direction and went in for a fist bump. “How’s it hanging?”

“Not fucking well, Yoggy,” Vell said. “You know anything about a gnome looking freak named Bicklebong the Riddlemaster?”

“Oh, oof, that guy,” Yog said. Had his writhing body contained any eyes, he would’ve been rolling them. “Stuck with him, huh?”

“Yeah. What do you know?”

“Not much!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be an all-knowing entity that spans all of time and space?”

“Yeah, and Bicklebong is Bicklebong,” Yog said. “I don’t know where he came from. He’s either a multiversal tumor representing the concept of the enigma, or he’s a very determined motherfucker of a gnome. Or he might be something else. I don’t know.”

“Oh, god,” Vell said. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Any tips on how to get rid of him?”

“He always leaves the planet after all his riddles have been answered,” Yog-Sothoth said. “The folks on Hibrios-9 managed it! Now, granted, it did take ninety-seven years and over eighty percent of their population committed suicide, but they managed it!”

“Yeah, not really an option,” Vell said.

“I don’t know what to tell you, bud,” Yog said. “You either have to tough it out or kill yourself.”

“That’s terrible advice!”

“Hey, you summoned me,” Yog-Sothoth said.

“Ugh. Sorry Yog. It’s just been a rough couple of weeks,” Vell said. “I shouldn’t yell at you.”

“Aw, no worries, you know I can’t stay mad at you,” Yog said, wrapping a tendril around Vell’s shoulder. “Look, you can get through this, you’re a smart guy! I’m sure you got something in that big ol’ brain of yours that’ll get this solved.”

“I guess I’ll have to keep at it,” Vell said. “Thanks for trying, Yog-Sothoth.”

“What are friends for?” Yog said. “Oh, and hey, I know you’re graduating soon, I’m not going to be able to make it because of the whole, you know, shapeless mass of horrors from beyond reality thing, so I figure I should give this to you while I can.”

The writhing mass reached inside itself and withdrew a small teddy bear holding a fake diploma and wearing a graduation cap that said “#1 Grad” on it.

“Aww, thanks Yog, that’s adorable,” Vell said.

“I knew you’d love it,” Yog said. “Anyway, sorry I couldn’t be more help, I got to go mutate a bunch of fishmen now. Good luck!”

The undulating yellow mass briefly shifted into the shape of a thumbs-up, and then vanished in a flash of blinding light. Vell tapped the nearest cultist on the shoulder to let him know the ritual was done. The other five summoners stood up and removed the blindfolds and earplugs they had been wearing.

“Well? Did you witness even a fleeting fragment of the unknowable horrors beyond?”

“Uh...no, didn’t exactly work,” Vell said. The Campus Cthulhu Club looked very disappointed.

“Wait, where’d the teddy bear come from?”

“I, uh, had him hidden in my robe,” Vell said. “Wanted the emotional support in case of the horrors. Bye!”

Vell left.

A few minutes later, Vell arrived back at his dorm. A very angry and very damp Skye was standing outside with her arms crossed.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Skye said. “Showed up while I was in the shower.”

She stepped forward and grabbed the collar of Vell’s shirt with hands that still smelled like shampoo.

“Tell me you have a way to get rid of this fucking thing.”

After a moment of hesitation, Vell held up the teddy bear.

“Not exactly?”

The teddy bear did serve to calm Skye’s temper, if only by giving her a soft neck to throttle. She squeezed tight and took a deep breath to calm herself down.

“Okay. Fine. I’m fine,” Skye said. “But you’re going to go in there and answer that thing’s god damn riddles until it leaves. I want to dry off and go to bed.”

Vell nodded and opened the door, to find the only thing worse than Bicklebong: a sudden absence of Bicklebong. He did a quick double-take to make sure the Riddlemaster hadn’t snuck up behind him, but there was no Bicklebong there either.

“Huh. He usually doesn’t leave unless someone answers his riddles.”

“Maybe he finally died,” Skye said.

“Maybe. Or maybe he’s just bothering someone else.”

“That could be bad,” Vell said.

“For them,” Skye said. “Pity whatever poor fool is stuck with him now, but I need to dry my hair.”

Skye almost managed to get through the door before green light flared behind her.

“Motherfucker, were you just teasing us?”

Skye turned to her boyfriend, and found Vell looking angry and concerned in equal measure. Then she turned slightly further, and saw Alistair Kraid, holding Bicklebong the Riddlemaster by the tip of his pointy hat.

“Harlan.”

“Kraid,” Vell said. “I see you met Bicklebong. I’m almost sorry about that.”

Kraid held Bicklebong aloft like a prize fish. For some reason, no matter how hard he pulled, the conical hat never moved from Bicklebong’s head.

“Over the past five minutes, I have dissolved him, incinerated him, melted him, de-skeletoned him, teleported him into the sun, fed him to piranhas, and put him into a giant blender,” Kraid said.

“You just had piranhas and a giant blender on hand?”

“Obviously, Harlan, you know me,” Kraid said. “This fucking thing won’t die.”

“Yeah, I know, we’ve tried real hard to get rid of him too,” Vell said. “Honestly, if I knew how to get rid of him, I would actually tell you. But I can’t figure it out.”

“I know you can’t,” Kraid said. “And I can’t either.”

Kraid swung Bicklebong into the nearest wall and then dropped him on the floor. He took two steps forward, towards Vell, and extended his skeletal hand, palm up, to Vell.

“But maybe we can.”