Table of Contents
Forward
Beyond the veil of reality lies a quasi-dimension full of the infinite possibilities that only magic can provide. The Tower is a riddle at the heart of this strange dimension of magical energy, bridging 108 universes in a symphony of mystery, intrigue and danger.
Within this monolithic pocket universe, impossibly different beings come together to solve mysteries and recover artifacts from a bizarre menagerie of alternate realities and fantasy worlds. All under the watchful eye of the titular Wizard: Parciloquy the Peculiar!
The following is a collection of my observations, gleanings, and notational ephemera on topics pertinent to the inverted Tower and its 108 worlds. It is my hope that, meager though they may be, my thoughts herein provide you with such entertainment as is befitting a mammal.
This is something I was never able to do for my ex-wife, which is one of the many reasons she gave when divorcing me. This is according to her (former) divorce lawyer and (current) husband whom both she (privately) and I (publicly) refer to as “Adolph Dickler.”1
Although I went from being on the missing persons list for a full year and then spent the next two years imprisoned at various black sites such as the lovely Camp X-Ray, I suppose I can see what a hardship the lack of child support caused you.
Even though you moved yourself and our children into Adolph Dickler’s five-bedroom McMansion and seven-acre estate in Lafayette immediately after I was body-swapped into another dimension. I am sure that it has been quite difficult managing your new husband’s live-in maid and award-winning garden.
I spent the first hundred years of my captivity within the body of the enigmatic Parciloquy caring very deeply about whether or not I would make it back to you despite your repeated assertions that you not only do not love me but actually dislike me during the last two years of our marriage.
But after magically cloning you so many times to try and work things out, I finally realized that you and I will never work as a couple. When lightning strikes twenty three times in row, it does not take a thousand year old master of the thaumaturgic arts to realize that some things were simply not meant to be.2
So my dear former wife, it is with neither fondness nor anger I bid you adieu. I must state for the record, however, that no matter what legal shenanigans your husband-at-law thinks he can pull off, thanks to the binding treaties of a dozen nations you will never see a penny from me. Sorry!
For those readers now, in the future and possibly in the past, I present to you this ever-growing collection of tales and musings on the strangeness of this universe and the multitude of beings that inhabit it.
Lancelot Luis Squib – June 21, 2018, Happy Valley
- Other reasons given in the divorce papers included snoring loudly and not being “cool” enough. I was also accused of practicing cyber-witchcraft whatever that is.
- The fact that I also witnessed your clones murdered numerous times—often grisly and at least once by my own hand—does also seem to engender a bit of psychopathic detachment where my feelings for you are concerned.