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Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: The Lures of the Enthrallress
Thursday, 02-Sep-1999 17:24:05
    195.92.194.42 writes:

    Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: The Lures of the Enthrallress

    “You know, this isn’t really my idea of a good night out,” Visionary confessed to a currently rather muscular and macho Yo.
    “What is to be not liking, cute Visionary friend?” the alien thought entity replied, waving his tankard in time with the stamping and the clapping. “Nearly all cute-friend Jarvis’ friends are being here and we are all awake except for cute Space Ghost under the tabling.”
    “Yeah,” spiffy slurred from the other side of the table. “And wakes’re shupposed to be loud, happy events.”
    “Isn’t he too young to drink?” Visionary asked.
    “Not in Ausgard,” Goldeneyed answered. “In Ausgard they put mead in the children’s bottles to help them sleep.”
    “Worked on Space Ghost,” Starseed admitted.
    “Yes, I know it’s all very jolly, and I suppose Donar’s doing Jarv a real compliment in getting the gods themselves to participate in the memorial and all that,” Visionary complained, “but it’s just that the beer’s so thick you need a spoon to drink it and the most sophisticated entertainment I’ve seen so far was that farting contest earlier.”
    “Hey, I was robbed!” Banjooooo objected. “I should have at least got third. But I’m gonna practise, you’ll see, and next time…”
    A fat old Ausgardian waddled up to the table with more beer and a platter of legs torn off animals. “Here thou art, mortals. On the house. I owe thee for tipping me off to yon smiley-face-clad jester’s wrestling abilities. It wert most amusing to watch Frothir chasing him around the room till the boxer didst pass out from exhaustion.
    “That’s our CrazySugarFreakBoy for you,” Fin Fang Foom agreed. He wondered where Dark Knight had got to, but had to admit that crowds and blazing torches wasn’t really a DK scene.
    “Not enjoying the show?” another Ausgardian asked. This one was slimmer than most and had a subtle smile beneath this prominent pointy nose. “Well, it’s hardly prime-time, is it? I can hardly blame you.”
    “Oh, everyone’s being very… hospitable,” Zane (DarkHwk couldn’t drink through his airtight enchanted armour faceplace) admitted. “It’s just not what we’re used to, that’s all. On the other hand, we’re all assembled making idiots of ourselves so I suppose it’s a fair tribute to our fallen leader.”
    The Ausgardian smiled. It wasn’t pleasant. “Well, the people as Ausgard had to do something to show their remorse and penitence for trying to invade your world and annihilate you back during that slight unpleasantness with the Celestians. And given a choice between drinking, wenching, and puking, or apologising, the standard Ausgardian’s not going to make a simple apology.”
    Donar bustled back to the table with his arms around four giggling blonde wenches. Whilst very attractive they appeared not to have even mastered the art of tying knots, since their bodices kept falling open. “Hail comrades all!” the hemigod of Thunder greeted, “I hast brought over Inga, Flossi, Inga and, um, Inga to meet thee. They wouldst hear of thy might and valour.”
    “Hi, warriors!” the girls simpered. Each one slipped onto the lap of a Legionnaire, specifically Goldeneyed, Starseed, Foom, and Yo. NTU-150 got up rather quickly before more Rhinemaidens – although the maiden part of that might have been an honorary title – could descend upon him. He pulled on his faceplate for added protection and said, “I think I’m going to take a little bit of a walk.”
    “I think I’d better join you,” Banjoooooo agreed with regret.
    Visionary also rose. “Yeah, and me. Cheryl was miffed enough when she found out this was a guys-only trip. If she heard about… stuff… with Valkyries then I’d be in the broom closet sleeping with Space Ghost.”
    “We’re not Valkyries,” Inga told him. “Not yet. We’ve been practising the cheers and stuff, but so far we’ve not managed the qualifications.”
    “There are being exams?” Yo wondered.
    “To become a Valkyrie,” Donar explained, “a girl must be… to die for.”
    “Literally,” added the thin-faced Ausgardian. “You haven’t introduced me to your friends yet, brother.”
    “Brother?” Enty asked, curious because he couldn’t remember the Ausgardian legionnaire mentioning any family other than his All-pappy and recently his mother.
    “This art Hoki, the god of bloody-mindedness,” Donar admitted. But his foster brother was in his good books for once, for having suggested this party, so he made the intros. “Hoki, this art NTU-150, a right doubty armoured warrior with the gift of, um, of making many things detonate. Herein is Banjoooo, monarch of the fables salty primates the sea-monkeys. Beside him is the fake man Visionary…”
    “Hey, I’m not fake. I thought we’d settled this.”
    “Beneath the fair Inga is young Goldeneyed of the, er, the golden eyes. In company with Inga is Yo, mine faithful battle-companion from the legendary Fluffy Bunnies of the Happy Place. With, er, with Inga is Starseed, master of the Gah!. And sitting stiff as if a board staring straight ahead without e’er moving whilst Inga is on his lap is mine wyrm comrade Fin Fang Foom.”
    “Um, I can see the psychiatric bills with Doctor Valium mounting up right now,” spiffy warned, observing the Makluan with the maiden on his knee. “Perhaps Inga had better come and sit on me?”
    “Ah, and this art my sprout-toppéd comrade, Coat-Rack,” Donar added.
    The Inga on Foomy’s lap leaned over – right over - to get a closer look at the ferned phenomenon. “How many warriors have you slain in battle, little one?” she asked seductively.
    “Well, er, none exactly slain,” spiffy admitted, “Unless you count evil spiffy of course, but he was me really. But I have hit a few quite hard, really…”
    But Inga had lost interest and turned back to Starseed, who was also being Inga-d next along the bench. “How many has this wyrm slain?” she demanded.
    “He doesn’t just slay them,” the Gah! Master answered evilly. “He eats ‘em afterwards.”
    Inga decided that she was in love.
    “I love this place!” G-Eyed admitted. “Hey, um, Inga? Wanna see my Pokémon?”
    “Time to go,” Visionary decided.
    “If all of this revelry is a little too… comradely for you, then may I suggest that we have a stroll around the gardens of reflection?” Hoki asked. “Although I find it hard to drag myself away from the witty conversation and intellectual stimulation of five hundred Norse barbarians drinking themselves into insensibility I would be willing, in the interests of hospitality, to accompany you away from this palace of delights.”
    “Sounds like a plan,” NTU-150 admitted. He was glad he had the face-mask on. Nobody could see he was blushing.
    CrazySugarFreakBoy! bounded up to them as they threaded their way through the assembly. “Hey guys, I got talking to these folks who told me the story of Jormungross the World Serpent, who’s so big he even makes those space whales from the Claimont X-Men run look tiny, and how they plan to go fishing for him in the morning. And guess what? They’re gonna let me the bait!”
    “That’s great, CSFB!” Banjooooo said insincerely. “We…ah… we gotta go outside.”
    In the archway by the golden doors of Halfcrockdsjelf they found Hatman still babysitting their strange new companion Avatar. The capped crusader had on a h---- Viking helmet and was thoroughly enjoying himself. Later he was planning to go throw axes at one of the serving girls’ pigtales in the hopes that might be more effective than his usual chat-up lines.
    Avatar noticed the approaching heroes. “Hello, Legionnaires,” the blue-faced former minion of the Parody Master greeted them. “Hatman has just been explaining to me the human ritual of getting drunk, and I am about to attempt to participate. It is, as I understand it, both a means of same-gender non-sexual bonding, and also an efficient way of cleansing the internal systems by catastrophic reverse-peristaltic purging.”
    “Hey, all I said was it makes people friendly but if you drink too much you puke,” Hatty translated. Under his breath he asked NTU-150, “Hey Enty, how much longer do I have to look after this creepy blue guy? He’s weirding me out worse than Space Ghost, and not in a good way.”
    “Why are you asking me?” the armoured legionnaire shrugged.
    “Well, you know…” Hatman stammered. “Without Jarvis, y’know, as leader, well you ‘n Lisa have been on the team longest…”
    “Yeah, we been meanin’ to talk about that,” Banjooooo chipped in. “You see, last time Lisa was in charge she instituted… training drills. In her room. Special exercises.”
    “And we were kind of hoping that you might not do that if you were in charge?” the capped crusader explained hopefully.
    “Me?” Enty replied. “Well guys, I don’t know. I mean, I’m great with machinery but not so good with people.”
    “Less good with people than machinery. I see,” the king of the sea monkeys shuddered.
    “OK. We’ll… get back to you,” Hatman promised.
    “Let us go inside and imbibe volumes of the alcoholic beverage that is contained within those hollowed-out animal horns,” Avatar suggested. “It seems to be a popular pastime and prompts many of the participants to significantly relax in a supine posture thereafter.”
    Hoki led Banjooooo, Visionary and NTU-150 on. “You know, I was always under the impression that Donar led thee,” the Ausgardian told them. “In all the tales he tells of his deeds on Middlegard, it always sounds as if you jump to his every world.”
    “Does it now?” Banjooooo answered dangerously.
    “Um, guys, this is the Asgardian god of bloody-mindedness,” Visionary reminded his companions.
    “How kind of you to remember,” muttered Hoki.

    The Pythoness, ancient priestess of the Amazons, gathered her mantle about her and glared at the assembly of warrior women. Overhead the usually-azure skies of Amazon Isle were rent by lightning and the neon crackle of cosmic energies as the extradimensional real estate granted to the Amazons by the gods drifted from its sentinel position bunging up a key dimensional passage between the Dismal Dimension and Earth, leaving the way open for the Dread Dormaggadon to bring his countless armies of invasion upon the world we know. The old prophetess pointed one crooked finger to accuse the perpetrators of the act of desecration which had shattered the ancient covenant and brought doom upon them all.
    “These intruders,” she screeched, “these men were brought to our home to bring about our downfall! Treacherously admitted by the exiled and hate-filled Troia 215 they set foot on our sacred shore, ending the agreement forged with the gods since time out of mind and causing the cessation of the Chimes of Honour which anchored us as guardians between Man’s World and the realms beyond. Now all is lost, but before we die these perpetrators must be destroyed, sent screaming into death in ways which will be whispered in nightmares for a thousand, thousand years!”
    “Hey, it wasn’t like that,” Exile objected. Since his cover was now blown he had morphed his uniform back into his traditional costume. “We only came to deliver the chimes. It was little miss perfect there,” (and he gestured the Troia’s old classmate Polypheme 1) “who knocked that bizarre clockwork gizmo over.”
    “All I did was catch it,” Falcon defended himself a bit sheepishly. It was apparently him who had done the damage by touching Amazon Isle. He had literally put his foot in it. “Blew my cover for it and everything.”
    “How did you change your costume like that?” ManMan demanded of Exile, demonstrating a fine grasp of the essentials.
    “Got the Observing Eye to give me a psychoreactive one that shifts at my will,” Exile answered. “Wasn’t going to have another Lisa’s dressing gown episode.”
    “You mean when you stole my Elvis suit.”
    “Hey, I was needed to fight Celestians, bucko.”
    “So was I, and at least I…”
    “Guys,” Troia hissed, “We’re on trial for our lives here. A bit of focus?” She turned and giggled nervously at Queen Titantia and the scowling Amazon court.
    “And another thing,” ManMan objected. “How does us wearing high heels prevent us from triggering the curse but Falcon wearing boots set it off?”
    “Good point, man,” Falcon agreed.
    “Perhaps I should elucidate?” Xander the Improbable suggested, bustling into court with Lisa and Mr Limpqvust trailing behind him.
    “We’re saved!” Troia gasped.
    “We’re in worse trouble than ever,” Exile groaned. “Have you seen Lisa’s fees?”

    “Brave warriors of Ausgard, I’m Siegfeld, God of Comedy, and I’d like to welcome you all here tonight. I’m reminded of the one about the three trolls who walked into a bar, and the gods who were drinking there pounded them flat into mulch.!”
    That got a really huge laugh form the assembled warriors in the hall. “Must lose something in the translation,” Zane muttered. The amulet-powered hero had kindly detached Inga from Fin Fang Foom earlier, and now the Makluan was hiding under the table where Space Ghost was snoring.
    “We have a few special parties in tonight. I’m told that Wolfturd is celebrating his five hundredth reaving today! Let’s hear it for Wolfturd, folks. And there’s a party of dwarves up all the way from Shortgitheim, nice to see you fellows. Stand up so we can all say hello. Oh, you are standing up.”
    “This deity doth crack me up,” chuckled Donar.
    “How do you accomplish that expellation of alcohol through your nostrils?” Avatar asked curiously.
    “Yo is thinking it is being specialing gift of Ausgardians, possibly?”
    “Sorry, what was he saying?” Starseed wondered, from somewhere very close to Inga. “My ears were kind of… muffled.”
    “So there are Chrarizards and Bulbasauruses…” Goldeneyed was earnestly explaining to the serving wench on his knee.
    “And our most special guests of all are a great bunch of mortals in from Middlegard,” Seigfeld went on, “they went toe to toe with the Celestians and came out standing. They’re here tonight to drink their war-chief into the halls of VanHalen. Let’s have a real Ausgardian welcome for the Lair Legion!”
    “Oh hel!” Donar warned his comrades. “Duck!”
    With the self-preservation honed by years of super-villain battles and mostly because CrazySugarFreakBoy tipped the bench up, the entire group at the table tumbled onto the floor as a rain of axes, daggers, and war-maces hit the wall above them in friendly greeting.
    “Why Foomy, this is where you’ve been hiding yourself,” Inga giggled, spotting the cowering dragon.
    “And in honour of our very special guests,” Siegfeld announced, “we have a very special treat tonight. She caused a riot in Miserableheim. They’re still clan-feuding over her in Ozarkskjelf. She’s the number one pinup of the Frost Giants of Bleedingcoldgard. Warriors and wenches, let’s have a big hand for Adora the Enthrallress!”
    Hands applauded and jaws dropped around the room as the Goddess of Making Men Make Idiots of Themselves strode into the limelight. “Hello boys,” she smiled. Starseed, and G-Eyed dumped their Ingas from their laps and leaned forward to get a better look. Yo and his Inga were far too busy discussing hair care products to take any notice.
    The Enthrallress tossed her floor-length blonde hair and smiled. “I’m going to do a little number tonight called the Dance of the Seven Veils… although I should warn you, I could only find six veils.”
    There was a collective sigh from the male component of the audience. Some sort of music started, but not a man present could have told you what it was once Adora started to move.

    “Well… I’m impressed,” Visionary admitted, looking out over the perfection of the Garden of Reflection. “If the Ausgardians can do something as, as breathtakingly beautiful as this, why do they always pretend to be so loud and oafish?"
    “It’s a cultural thing,” Hoki explained. “It’s all to do with god-cred. Come to the pool of reflection in the centre of the garden.”
    “Good idea,” Banjooooo agreed. He could use a refreshing dip.
    “Tina would have loved this,” NTU-150 considered. On the other hand, she probably wouldn’t have appreciated fighting off five hundred mauling drunken Ausgardians, so on the whole it was probably best that Donar had insisted on a men-only outing, he reconsidered.
    “From this pool one can see anything happening in the Nine and a Half Worlds,” Hoki explained. “Except for the rude bits, since the All-Pappy hath put a PoolNanny enchantment upon it. For example, see there your comrade Lisa pleading for the lives of three trespassers upon Amazon Isle.”
    “What?” NTU-150 gasped. “What’s she doing there?”
    “More importantly, what are Falcon and Exile doing there? And who’s that really ugly girl next to Troia?” Banjooooo wondered.
    Hoki ran his fingers across the pool once more. “And here is what we are missing back in the mead hall.” Now the image was of Adora’s dance. NTU-150 once again blushed beneath his armour. Visionary gulped and forced his eyes away. “Shame this thing doesn’t get sound,” the god of bloody-mindedness told them. “Still, I’ll add a little enchantment of my own so you can hear what’s about to happen.”
    The Enthrallress’ dance had come to an end. You could hear a pin drop in the hall as she leaned forward to speak. “Boys, this little number was in honour of our mortal guests. And I think after their great deeds it’s only fair that we give them another honour. Let’s grant them a place in Van Halen with their war-chief. What better reward for their valour than a glorious death in combat here tonight and an eternity of revelry with the honoured dead hereafter?”
    There were murmurs of approval amongst the men around the hall.
    “What?” Donar objected, shaking off the sexual trance that had him nodding with the rest. “No. These art mine friends. I didst not bringeth them here to be VanHalened!”
    “Let’s honour Donar as well,” the Enthrallress suggested with a sexy little smirk. “In fact, I will personally play Valkyrie to the first warrior who slays the Oldmanson!”
    Five hundred warriors leapt at Donar and the Lair Legion.
    “You… you set this up!” Visionary accused Hoki. “You suggested the party, you arranged the entertainment. You’re putting Donar up against impossible odds and getting his friends killed off!”
    Hoki stroked his fingers through the waters of the pool of reflection. “That is one possible interpretation of events, yes,” he admitted. “A reason why I needed several of you as hostages in case things turned out wrongly.”
    “I have one more question,” Enty declared. “If you’re so clever, do you know the laws of conductivity?”
    “The harnessed lightnings which you mortals chase along wires?” Donar’s step-brother answered. “Yes, I have heard of *urrrrkkkk!*” He was stopped short in mid snideness as NTU-150 discharged his power pack through Hoki in a demonstration of said laws since the Ausgardian had helpfully grounded himself in a pool of water.
    “Nicely done,” Banjoooooo judged, looking at the gently steaming god of bloody-mindedness lying face-down in the pool of reflection. He positioned Hoki so he could breath but gave him a good kick for good measure. “We’d better go and help out the others in the mead hall.”
    “One moment,” the grey-bearded one-eyed man with the staff and the ravens bade them. “You have felled the son of the All-Pappy. Come now and face the judgement of the Oldman!”

    “More men!” screeched Polypheme, appalled at the blasphemy as Xander stalked and Mr Lundqvist minced their way through the throng to stand before the Amazon Queen.
    “Yet more male footsteps on our once-sacred isle,” accused the Pythoness.
    “Oh, I’m a wizard. We get special dispensations,” Xander told her irritably.
    “And I’m as gay as a barrelful of monkeys on helium,” Mr Lundqvist added. The salesman from the Interdimensional Transportation Corporation waved at ManMan and Exile as he spoke.
    The Amazons seemed to accept this reasoning. “That’s the answer guys,” Troia hissed to her three male colleagues. “Just tell ‘em you’re gay and we’re off the hook.”
    None of the three superheroes seemed willing to take up this plan and run with it. “Think I’d prefer to have my bits chopped off,” ManMan admitted.
    “And who are you?” Queen Titania demanded of the leather-clad woman who accompanied mage and merchant.
    “I’m their defence attorney,” Lisa answered, gesturing to the four captives. “Mr Exile and Mr ManMan were merely doing a favour to the entire Amazon nation, assisting Ms Troia to return the Chimes of Honour after their tercentennial maintenance. In order to prevent any offence to the Amazon peoples or the covenant with the gods, Mr Xander advised Mr Lundqvist to dress them in high heels. This was of course based upon the legal definition of a foot touching the Isle. In high heels it is only the toe which is in contact, not the entire foot.”
    “Ah. I knew there’d be a good reason,” sighed Exile.
    “Falcon was here because he followed Troia from my shop,” Xander explained. “His employers, the secret government spy agency SPUD, were hoping she would lead him to her brother, whom they very much want to interview.”
    “My brother!” Troia cried. “Who is…?”
    “Lies!” screeched the Pythoness. “Clearly Troia was seeking revenge for the exile and later death of her mother, our Princess Rigantona…”
    “Rigantona doesn’t mean princess,” Xander snapped. “Rigantona means Great Queen, as in the ruler of Amazon Isle before she was found to be pregnant by an unknown male and stripped of crown and citizenship. Records were changed to substitute Titania’s name throughout Amazon history, but really that was all to assuage your people’s guilt that the one they had banished gave her life to save you all from the Lord of the Dismal Dimension.”
    “Whoever was queen,” Titania replied, a little flustered, “the damage has now been done. The Chimes are stopped, the covenant broken. Now the perpetrators must be punished.”
    “My clients have acted with the best possible motives throughout,” Lisa pointed out. “Had this excitable young Amazon woman not attempted to prevent Troia having her due honours, none of this would have happened.”
    “This is true,” the Queen acknowledged. “For this reason Polypheme shall be banished to Man’s World forever.”
    “Noooooooo!” screamed the young Amazon. “Damn you, Troia! You did this to me! I’ll get you for this! First I’ll kill your man-toys and then I’m coming for you.”
    “Whenever you think you’re ready, Polyfart!” Troia shouted back.
    “Er, what was that bit about killing her man toys again?” ManMan asked nervously. Knifey, his sentient knife, kindly repeated it for him.
    “And now for the judgement upon these male malefactors,” Titantia continued. “Bring forth the gelding shears.”
    Xander raised one red-robed arm to interrupt. “If I may, I’d like to suggest an even more appropriate punishment,” he suggested, with a charming and devious smile.

    There was war in heaven:
    “Gaaaaaaahhhhhhh! Hiccup! Damn mead!”
    “This is excellently like when the hordes of Surtur broke through the dimensional gates in Walt Simonson’s Thor epic and the rainbow bridge was shattered leaving…”
    “First they foist women on to me, now this! Eat dragon-breath, Ausgardians!”
    “This ist a proper wake for Jarvis. Let the realms ring with the sound of skulls shattering in honour of our fallen friend!”
    “My own physical senses appear to be somewhat impaired, but my Avasword continues to function within acceptable parameters.”
    “These boys nights out always end up in either brawls of curries or both. Good job I brought my amulet along.”
    “I’m doing OK here with my Steelers hat, but no way are we going to win this without a plan. Who’s in charge these days?”
    “Yo is certain that this is just Ausgardian-friends way of being friendly. Yo is being friendly back likewisely. So far Yo has been friendly to seven cute Ausgardians”
    “Weed? It’s not a weed! That’s a fern that’s just kicked your butt! I hope Inga was watching.”
    “Who trod on me? Not nice to tread on someone while they’re napping. Spaaaaaaannnnnk Raaaaayyyy!”
    Adora the Enthrallress watched the fracas from a distance. “That’s it boys. I might just trade my body parts for their body parts,” she called encouragingly.
    She didn’t see the caped form drop from the rafters behind her. “You know of course, that a hero never hits a lady,” Dark Knight whispered in her ear. As she spun round to see who had spoken the urban legend flattened her with a right hook. He didn’t go on to make the obvious comment.
    The fight petered out once the Enthrallress’ influence was negated. A few minor fracas went on in little personal vendettas in dark corners of the hall – Space Ghost was quite cross, for example, and was trying to hammer a warrior’s head-spikes into the dartboard – but for the main part the battle was over and the Ausgardians started to look a bit sheepish.
    “Never trust a woman,” DK told the assembly. “Never.”
    “Actually it was Hoki behind this,” NTU-150 explained, striding into the room at the side of the All-Pappy himself. “And apparently he got the idea from a chat with none other than our old sparring partner the Hooded Hood.”
    “HH? Alright!” enthused CSFB!
    “Hold it,” Starseed objected. “A bit of mischief like this isn’t the Hood’s style at all. Why would he drag us to Ausgard for a feeble attempt on our lives like this?”
    “That’s right,” Hatman realised. “He usually plans stuff on a cosmic scale. Why would he set this up?”
    Then there was a shriek like the rending of worlds as the dimensional barriers tumbled down and the hordes of the Dread Dormaggadon spilled out to begin the invasion of Ausgard.

    Next episode: The invasion from the Dismal Dimension! The punishment of the sinners of Amazon Isle! A visit from Mefrothto, Prince of Fibs! Lisa and the Abandoned Legion do Monte Carlo! And the inevitable appearance of… the Hooded Hood!



    A Jarvis memorial issue from... the Hooded Hood


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Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: The Lures of the Enthrallress (A Jarvis memorial issue from... the Hooded Hood) (02-Sep-1999 17:24:05)

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