Chern, 64 AP, the Chernway

Chern plodded down the Chernway, heading north from the Starry Crypt junction. With the squabbling amongst his followers finally put to rest by the Pact of Boa, the god of decay was now on his way to the current termination of the continent-spanning tunnel. He'd heard that there were engineering issues.

As he walked, Vidlans the flaming pirate danced around him, japing and jesting and swigging chum. So far Chern had barely said a word to the flame dancer, hoping that he would go away. He was not going away. It was becoming a problem.

"Arrr... Ye choblins have done a great job with this 'ere Chern-way. Real wonder o' the world! Though I won't lie, it gets a little dreary when ya spend this long traversin' it. There only be so long that I can spend lookin' for shapes in the glowloam! Ahoy! That one looks like a pelican! Ya know what they say about pelicans, Chern-me-boy? Their beak can hold as much as their belly-can! Pelican, belly-can! How good be that? I tell ye, ol' Vidlans got a lotta experience with pelicans, back when I sailed the wide oceans..."

Chern wondered whether it would be unjustified abuse of his divine power to simply smite the annoying pirate. It probably would. Perhaps if he smote himself instead...

"So, where arrrre we going, anyways? Last time I asked ye just answered "this way". I won't lie, if me navigator gave me such lip back in the day, I'd 'ave 'ad 'im flogged. No longer, 'course."

Vidlans patted Chern on the back, just roughly enough to knock Chern's mask down over his eyes. Chern readjusted the mask, sighing with all the sorrowful passive aggression of an overburdened pack mule.

"I," he emphasised pointedly, "am going north to help the Chernway builders with a technical issue."

"Arrrr..." Vidlans arrrred, in a manner that Chern couldn't help but find condescending. "Do tell, Chern-me-boy! What issue plagues these builders?"

"They've reached the ocean," Chern said bluntly.

"The ocean! Ol' Vidlans could tell ya some things about the ocean..."

"The issue is," Chern cut in, considering his capitulation of prolixity the lesser evil in comparison to hearing more about the rotting ocean from ol' Vidlans, "that no matter how deep they tunnel, they get flooded. There's serious danger of the whole section collapsing under the water pressure."

"Arrr, tis as I suspected... What's the plan then, Cap'n Chern?"

"My glowloam has proven an effective vessel for my will for hundreds of years... But here it has finally met its match. All things meet their match eventually, Vidlans. Therefore, a new adaptation is in order, to overcome this obstacle to the Chernway."

"And what be this... Adaptation?"

"Well Vidlans, I was thinking-"

"Might I suggest you consider... Updog?"

Chern blinking, considering this spontaneous and bewildering proposition intently.

"What's updog?"

Vidlans swelled into a bonfire of mirthful flames, and with a mighty slap of his thigh he roared at the top of his dancer-trained lungs, "ARRRR NOT MUCH, WHAT's UP WITH YE YER OL' SEADOG?"

Chern halted in his tracks to stare at the cackling pirate. Never before had the Wiltwatchers eyes - eyes legendary for the sheer depth of their sorrow - held as much abject misery as they did now.

"Arr don't look so glum, Chern-me-boy." Vidlans gave Chern a pat on the cheek that was really just straight up a slap, knocking his mask half way around his head. "Hey look, that there glowloam looks like a mushroom! What arrre the odds?"

"It is a mushroom."

"I know! Weird right?"

"Uuuuugh..."