05/01/21 Snippet, FROGMAN PRINCE.

This one is gonna need a definite rewrite, methinks.

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I took another look at the castle. Even from my inn window the damned thing looked just ridiculous as before, complete with gargoyles, weathered battlements — and, according to the War Office, half-submerged catacombs below. I couldn’t see those, but even in my current form I half-fancied I could smell the stagnant water.

Although that might have been the town. Bremerhaven is a dreary place, still picking itself up from the War; alas, it’s a dreary place with an excellent harbor on the coast of what used to be Great Bavaria. Match that with the usual mad Baron von Barking Madman that seems to crop up regularly in post-War Middle Europa, complete with plans to spread his particularly malignant influence through the region, and you end up with what could be one Devil of mess on your hands.

And, really, why was there even a castle here to begin with? This town is barely older than I am. Honestly, that someone went to the trouble of building an actual castle should have itself long since convinced the sages in the War Office that something was up. Then again, that was why I was here, wasn’t I? Mother’s Little Helper, what-what?