Well, hello my wonderful fellow London Gothic’ers it’s been a while since last writing a blog and work is all still progressing nicely on Chapter 1, everyone has been extremely busy either illustrating (Mike B) or working a normal day job (Me!).
Sean and I are steadily putting things in place to hopefully open the online shoppe early December so you can purchase some amazing LG merch!
It will be filled with lots of LG goodies such as T Shirts, Mugs, Posters, Original Art and even a replica of Hanora’s necklace.
There will also be an option to pre order Chapter 1 which is looking very likely to be released on general sale Easter next year but pre-orders will get VIP access and receive a copy before general release. You can even purchase a signed copy that may be worth millions in years to come!!
We have arranged our very first LG meet up at the end of November and will be making a Q&A video for our YouTube channel, if you have any questions you would like to ask please do we welcome them all, you can send them to me at firstname.lastname@example.org and we will aim to include them in the video.
We will also be unveiling some of our amazing promo art that has been commissioned and illustrated by some fantastic artists worldwide, keep an eye on our social media channels for this.
Well, seeing as we’re now in the spooky month of October I asked Jellico if he knew any scary stories and as usual, he came up with one from his very own Emerald Isle which I hope you enjoy.
On the emerald Isle, on a moonlit night,
Dew rising from the fields, it’s a beautiful sight,
Stick to the paths, never cut across the bog.
When you leave the Pub with your trusty Dog.
But you don’t heed the legends that you were once told,
Of a fierce troll called Bill who lives out in the mud and the cold,
You think it’s a tale of the old fishwife’s kind,
So you stray from the path cos you’re that way inclined.
As you walk through the fields that glisten like silver,
A sound you hear that is most unfamiliar,
A cough, a wheeze or maybe a sneeze,
Then a hefty, big growl lingers on the gentle breeze.
You look behind as it appears from the bog,
A huge silhouette of a man in the smog,
Stand still, rub your eyes, and blame it on whisky,
To stray of the path, you knew it was risky.
Your Dog starts to yap as the figure draws closer,
You puff yourself up for a larger composure,
‘If he comes any nearer, I’ll be giving him a whack’
You say to your Dog who’s ready for attack.
And then you see in all its full glory,
The man you had heard of in the terrible story,
A man so hideous and massively large,
looks he’s been hit with the back of a barge.
With eyes that pierce and a monstrous huge head,
A mouth the size of an old wooden shed,
Marrows for ears and a warty fat nose,
Rotten great teeth that look like big toes.
He grabs your dear Dog and eats it whole,
Then spits out the collar in a muddy bog hole,
You turn to run but he grabs your behind,
‘Please don’t eat me sir, I beg ya be kind’.
Pleading’s too late for this nasty old troll,
You strayed in the bogs now your set for his bowl,
He squishes your body so you’re an easier size,
To push down his gullet without touching the sides.
And the last thing you see is his warty fat nose.
As he lowers you in from your head to your toes.
A lesson be learnt from this terrible night,
Old stories you hear to give you a fright,
May just be real or maybe a fable,
Or made up by someone who’s mind is unstable.
On a moonlit night on the emerald isle,
As your walking along, stop and ponder a while,
Cos if you stray off the paths and into the fog,
You’ll meet Bill McGrog who lives in the bog!
© London Gothic 2021
Gawd Bless you all & Happy Halloween!
Nick Henry – Team LG
Creator & Author