A ghost Crake yells at Anaea,
"Hey I wasn't trying to escape! I was just trying to get out of my ropes! Being a somatic with enhanced senses it really hurts when you get the circulation cut off to your arms!"

He floats towards the castle and begins to start looking for ftgh42.

Dan picks up the folder of papers. "Good. You have done well. My master will be pleased."

He looks up at fthg42, who is still shackled to the dungeon wall, looking extremely bored, before opening the door leading out. "Come, Eva. I have a new assignment for you."

Did Crake just yell at Anaea? Of all the...

*Shakes head*

Crake disappears to some dank, unkown part of Anaea's pyramid. The kind of place where spirit wishes it were flesh because then it couldn't possible suffer these kinds of incorporeal torments. Some of you may wish to pity Crake. Do so quietly lest the angry goddess figures out that you feel sorry for him.

A dark, shadowed figure appears in the dungeon where the Great DM is being held prisoner.

"The ransom has been refused, and the rescue mission is proving to be a failure. Just a few more posts from now, and you will die. Do you have any last requests?"

fthg42 tilts his head, looking at the shadowed figure. "Well, there is one...I was wondering if you could sing the entire score of the 'H.M.S. Pinafore.'"

Silence.

"It was a reference, dammit!" fthg42 says, annoyed. "Simpsons Episode 9F22: Cape Feare?"

More silence.

"Oh, all right, fine - last requests? As many obscure references as you can cram into this page. I estimate about ten posts remaining. Oh, and would you do me the honor of introducing yourself? And kill Dan while you're at it for betraying me?"

fthg42 thinks for a moment. "Never mind. I'll take care of that last one myself."

There is a sudden sodden thump in the outside corridor.

"There we go," fthg42 says. "So - my last requests: obscure references, and an introduction, if you please."

Crake glares at Anaea and says,
"Well to bad for you I just happen to be a masachist!"

He also adds in,
"And it's not my fault either! With the low post frequency of the others, and your purposeful and annoying tendancy to thwart my every plan with divine intervention is it any wonder that HOTUN will soon die?! Anaea I hate to tell you this, but you are a control freak. Why can't you be like other gods and be interested in either warring or whoring? Or a combination of the two?"

Moreth finds a magical wand!
"Ooh! looky! A magical wand!"
Moreth waves said magical wand
Moreth says some magical wand words!

(Before Moreth is executed for finding a magical wand that seemed to appear out of no where... Nyer! o/` Moreth got a magic waand! Moreth got a magic waand! o/` Be thankful I'm leaving the RESULTS up to your imagination! :P)

OOG: *facepaws* Dear gods... this does not bode well...

"Er, Moreth, may I have my backscratcher back please?"

Eva grins at Dan. "You realize that if you send me on another mission, Tamsin doesn't have to wear that tutu anymore...."

She seems eager to help.

Dan is lying on the ground, quite still and very dead. Clutched in his hands is the packet of papers Eva brought him.

"Hey!" yaps Eva, irritated. "I'm only doing this so Tamsin can go back to wearing... whatever it is she wears. Some kinda skort?" the wolf-mount ponders.

Smelling the death on him she shakes her head, rattling her rings, slightly.

"Da**it!"

The shadowy figure steps forward, into the light, and with all the hate of the Niebelugen, reveals herself.

It is, of course, real life Anaea.

"Who other than a DM would have the power to hold you here? I relinquished my power willingly, only to discover that I cannot be happy without it. I need the power of being a DM. And you were standing in my way, so I will remove you. I even gave your players the opportunity to rescue you, and they failed. They couldn't even get in the door. How pathetic!"

"Oh dear," a very similar voice, that of in game Anaea, in fact, says. "This won't be good for us at all. Fthg42 was the only one to appreciate our puzzles, and usually the only one to figure them out. And half of this new bunch of players couldn't even survive trying to get through the door. This won't be good at all."

"Quiet you!" Real life Anaea shouts. "You're dead! Dead I tell you, D E A D dead! Stop coming back to life!"

RLA then draws her renowned Amakuni katana, and approaches fthg42. IGA Sighs.

"Figure out the weakness in this setup (clued by one of the obscure references in this post) to stop me before page ten, or you die."

"Well, for one, you misspelled 'Niebelungen'. And honestly, who didn't see this coming from page one?"

fthg42 looks around.

"The figure being Anaea, I mean - not the misspelling."

After satisfying himself by making sure no hands are up, fthg42 continues.

"Only giving me until page ten to figure out the weakness clued by your obscure references? That's not very sporting - there are only three posts left after this one, and I only spot two references I get so far. I do see several possible avenues of escape, but I'm well familiar with your tricks - a misstep could be catastrophic. But, in any case, even if you _do_ kill me, you realize your power will still be gone by thread's end - I've made certain...ahh...safeguards within the threads to prevent anybody from taking over without my permission."

fthg42 pulls from an inner pocket a golden ring.

"I'll be thinking on those references. But in the case that I fail by page ten...I do not wish for the Saga to die. So take this with my blessing - Der Ring des Nibelungen - an aspect of it in any case."

He flicks it towards Anaea.

Anaea ducks the ring, does not touch it, takes off her billowing coat, folds it neatly, puts it in a walnut shell, puts that in her pocket, then brandishes the sword again.

"Tell you what, I make you deal. Give me password to safely use thread, and I make your death quick, Mr. Thg."*

*Blatantly unobscure reference.

fthg42 looks blankly at Anaea, as water inexplicably begins to flow through the room. "But...well...I just did. Practically on a silver platter, too!"

The water continues to rush into the dungeon in steady strong currents, even beginning to pour down the walls, forming foam at the edges. Swirling eddies ripple through the surface of the water.

"Speaking of silver..." says fthg42, with a gleam in his eye.