Some kind of Hero
At this point in the narrative, after having been saved both by a bird and a turkey (haha!) Krulnor was beginning to wonder if actually he was hero material any more.
I mean, yes, there had been the leviathan of Scree, the three handed barbarians, and Desmond the disgusting, but that had all been some time ago now and plus, this last quest had taken 2 years just to get going and time was ticking onward and Krulnor wasn't getting any younger. (He was getting older if you're wondering.)
But being a stoic and resilient man he hid his insecurities and stood tall before the Nelksunian chief, boldly awaiting his quest instructions.
"Krulnor, our hero and saviour from a distant land..." the chief began, clearly reading out some predetermined script written for him by someone who had a better command of language than he,
"We welcome you here to... uh, Krulnor? What's going on? Quit blubbering mate! What's there to get upset about!? You've come to save us from a dark and terrible danger! Buck up, man!"
"Bu...but... I'm not hero material any more!" Krulnor moaned, collapsing into a quivering, blubbering mess (the mess moved on shortly afterwards, complaining that why should it always be the one people collapse into without permission, it was just minding its own business).
The chief of Nelksun had not become chief by accident and he quickly used his considerable wisdom and worked out that the formal speech was not going to get him anywhere, and instead tried to impart some more practical wisdom unto our now much moist-er hero.
"Krulnor, don't you see man! The blognovel authors under whose control you rest are completely unoriginal in this regard! Almost every hero they have ever invented, with the possible exception of Dellua the Space Cat, has been completely pathetic - and yet, they have managed to reach the end of their requisite challenges in one piece! (Though usually someone called Roger turns up to make life harder.) It's going to be OK mate! A blognovel's protagonist (of which you are one) has never failed before!"
Krulnor stood up and wiped the snot from his nose. "I guess you... might be right." He whimpered, not wanting to admit that he actually had, like almost all of the world's population, never actually read any of the other blognovels because he hated in-jokes, twisted plots and poorly written chapters usually made up on the spot without any planning or initiative.
"So how about it mate? Have a listen to this mission thing we've got here for you, which might I add pays particularly well, and then make your decision."
"Yeah, ok." Krulnor replied, enticed by the possibility of pay (seeing as, in the last 2 years, he had finally managed to finish the contents of his lunch bag, and then the bag itself, and then all of his clothing and footwear except his loincloth, and then his loincloth, so now he stood naked before the chief and it was rather chilly!)
"Good." The chief proceeded to pull a crumpled document out of his pocket, which he quickly de-crumpled and read aloud.
And this is what the good chief did say;
Your mission, should you choose to accept it,
Is to journey to the distant and backward town of Dleifekaw,
find the lost Bow of Herman the accurate,
the missing shield of Georgina the defensive,
and the absent suit of Armour of Percy the sensible.
Equipped with these three useful and magical artifacts,
you will then liberate the residents of Dleifekaw,
from the oppressive reign of the 46 very annoying Hedgehogs,
by beating them each in violent and bloody combat.
Your reward upon completing this task and handing us the three misplaced artifacts is as follows;
2000 Gold Pieces,
Your choice of a wife from any of the gorgeous Nelksunian women,
A goldfish in its own bowl, with some fake underwater weed and a wee castle,
And Riche McCaw's autobiography.
But beware!
Many have already attempted this quest,
and so far,
none have returned.
Well, except for Mark the Cowardly.
And thus did the good chief conclude his speech, re-crumple the bit of paper and return it to his pocket.
Previous Chapter : : Next Chapter
I mean, yes, there had been the leviathan of Scree, the three handed barbarians, and Desmond the disgusting, but that had all been some time ago now and plus, this last quest had taken 2 years just to get going and time was ticking onward and Krulnor wasn't getting any younger. (He was getting older if you're wondering.)
But being a stoic and resilient man he hid his insecurities and stood tall before the Nelksunian chief, boldly awaiting his quest instructions.
"Krulnor, our hero and saviour from a distant land..." the chief began, clearly reading out some predetermined script written for him by someone who had a better command of language than he,
"We welcome you here to... uh, Krulnor? What's going on? Quit blubbering mate! What's there to get upset about!? You've come to save us from a dark and terrible danger! Buck up, man!"
"Bu...but... I'm not hero material any more!" Krulnor moaned, collapsing into a quivering, blubbering mess (the mess moved on shortly afterwards, complaining that why should it always be the one people collapse into without permission, it was just minding its own business).
The chief of Nelksun had not become chief by accident and he quickly used his considerable wisdom and worked out that the formal speech was not going to get him anywhere, and instead tried to impart some more practical wisdom unto our now much moist-er hero.
"Krulnor, don't you see man! The blognovel authors under whose control you rest are completely unoriginal in this regard! Almost every hero they have ever invented, with the possible exception of Dellua the Space Cat, has been completely pathetic - and yet, they have managed to reach the end of their requisite challenges in one piece! (Though usually someone called Roger turns up to make life harder.) It's going to be OK mate! A blognovel's protagonist (of which you are one) has never failed before!"
Krulnor stood up and wiped the snot from his nose. "I guess you... might be right." He whimpered, not wanting to admit that he actually had, like almost all of the world's population, never actually read any of the other blognovels because he hated in-jokes, twisted plots and poorly written chapters usually made up on the spot without any planning or initiative.
"So how about it mate? Have a listen to this mission thing we've got here for you, which might I add pays particularly well, and then make your decision."
"Yeah, ok." Krulnor replied, enticed by the possibility of pay (seeing as, in the last 2 years, he had finally managed to finish the contents of his lunch bag, and then the bag itself, and then all of his clothing and footwear except his loincloth, and then his loincloth, so now he stood naked before the chief and it was rather chilly!)
"Good." The chief proceeded to pull a crumpled document out of his pocket, which he quickly de-crumpled and read aloud.
And this is what the good chief did say;
Your mission, should you choose to accept it,
Is to journey to the distant and backward town of Dleifekaw,
find the lost Bow of Herman the accurate,
the missing shield of Georgina the defensive,
and the absent suit of Armour of Percy the sensible.
Equipped with these three useful and magical artifacts,
you will then liberate the residents of Dleifekaw,
from the oppressive reign of the 46 very annoying Hedgehogs,
by beating them each in violent and bloody combat.
Your reward upon completing this task and handing us the three misplaced artifacts is as follows;
2000 Gold Pieces,
Your choice of a wife from any of the gorgeous Nelksunian women,
A goldfish in its own bowl, with some fake underwater weed and a wee castle,
And Riche McCaw's autobiography.
But beware!
Many have already attempted this quest,
and so far,
none have returned.
Well, except for Mark the Cowardly.
And thus did the good chief conclude his speech, re-crumple the bit of paper and return it to his pocket.
Previous Chapter : : Next Chapter
posted by Musings | 9:20 PM
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