Episode CLXI -- The Gemmie's Curse

We climbed the cliffs all night. Reaching the heights at dawn, we could see all about us that we were on an island in a sea of islands, each rocky and dark. Of our abandoned ship, infested as it was with Snaids, there was no sign. Snaids devour all before them and those that had besieged us certainly disappeared with our vessel, eating no doubt its very hull, until the sea rushed in, claiming them all.
And, so bedazzled as we were by our vantage point, we gazed outward to the far horizon to the rising sun, giving thanks for our deliverance from the perils of the sea and terrors of the beach far below and imagining what living thing we could find in order to prepare a blood sacrifice of gratitude.
It was then that it happened.
Before us suddenly, appearing just at cliff edge, loomed the image of a most terrible, ugly Geemie, spewing malodorous wrath and loathing and bellowing the promise of demons most foul and of fiendish fire.
Two of our bravest spearmen leapt forward to slay it, only to find their steel piercing nothing but a lingering reek. Carried forward by their charge and stumbling, they lost their footing and fell forward over cliff edge to their death on sharp rocks far below to the welcoming shrieks of sharp beaked, meat-eating birds and slithering, furry creatures. Almost as soon as it had been uttered, the Geemie’s curse had begun its work.