Anthony's Saga, Part II
“Wah lao eh!” screamed Anthony, bolting upright from his otherwise-sound sleep in the goose-downed beds of the local tavern. He pulled his Happy Sheet (he carried one wherever he went, and called it “Sheety”), and peered around. “Wah heng ah… I dreamt I died, and didn’t get the princess!” he muttered to no one in particular.
--------------------
Anthony and Jinx awoke early the next morning, and took the highway down in the direction of the Beast’s lair. Jinx had acquired a simple leather jerkin from the royal armoury, as well as a sharp rapier which he displayed surprising skill in. Anthony on the other hand, had picked a suit of full plate mail (complete with embossed lions and geese and even sculpted abs), a huge sword that made him hunch in front slightly due to the weight, and a metal orb which he was now playing with, tossing it from hand to hand.
“Eh Anthony, why in the world did you take that?” asked Jinx, pointing to the little ball he was tossing around.
“Uh I think it’s magic. Why else would the king keep it in his armoury? It must be an item of great power, and one day a great hero will call a great fellowship to him, and use this item to destroy evil after a long and arduous quest!” said Anthony, with a manic gleam in his eye.
“Erm. Okaay.” Was Jinx’s reply.
The highway they took was wide and easy to walk, stamped out with the millions of footsteps of travelers. Around them, the birds flitted in and out of the verdant woods, and the wind tickled their hair with comfortable touches. Suddenly, from out of the bushes, an ambush was sprung!
From around them four men emerged, garbed in green and brown and wielding swords. Even their faces were painted in those colours, which made them hard to spot in the forest. A lithe, jaguar-like man stalked out from the trees in front of them, twirling his sword nonchalantly. He had an eye-patch on an eye, and a wicked-looking goatee.
“Ho ho. If you gentlemen would be so kind as to leave your valuables behind, we can conclude this business and be on our way,” said the sly-looking man.
“No!” cried Anthony. “We cannot be threatened by the likes of you!” The erstwhile adventurer sprang forwards, while trying to pull out his greatsword, and tripped over a rock and rolled down the slope to his right.
“AAAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!”
Jinx and the bandits watched Anthony roll down the slope, bounce off a couple of rocks, and eventually collide into a tree. All of them winced in unison.
Jinx turned to regard the bandit chief. “Hey!” he exclaimed. “Aren’t you the Gallant Bandit, Kennett Hood?”
Kennett Hood beamed at the recognition, and struck a heroic pose. “That’s right! How did you know it was me?”
“I’ve seen posters of you, and heard the poorfolk speak of you in awed tones. They say you’re really nice! They all call you “Mr Friendly”!”
Kennett Hood giggled happily to himself. Jinx took this opportunity to relate the goings-on to Kennett Hood, who nodded as he listened. The bandit leader finally raised his hand, and said, “Enough. I understand now. Since I made a friend in you today, Jinx, I shall let you go. Men! Follow me!”
Kennett Hood and his men suddenly disappeared into the greenery, moving like shadows. A few minutes later, a shout came from the east, “Eh sir! Did you Holland us again?!”
Suddenly, from behind Jinx, charged Anthony, his sword drawn and his flat-top ignominiously filled with dirt and leaves. “Wah! They’re all gone!” he exclaimed in between pants. “Must have been scared off by my war-cry!”
“Erm. Okaay.”
--------------------
The next day passed uneventfully, and Jinx and Anthony came to a crossroads. On a large boulder at the crossroads sat a man, in a voluminous vermillion robe. His robe was sequined with silver and gold stars, and flecked with glitter. On his head was a tall conical hat, that drooped to one side, and he was peering engrossedly at a thick manual. It was obvious to any would-be adventurer that he was-
“A man!” cried Anthony matter-of-factly. Jinx smacked his forehead at his friend’s obvious stupidity.
“Hello! My name is Anthony! Do you know the way to the Beast’s lair?”
“The Beast!” the stranger’s head perked up excitedly. “You are going to look for the Beast? Did you know that it is a one-of-a-kind? There are no other species of it!”
“Uh… Okay. No need so much information. Information overload already.”
“Hi! My name is Enddy. I’m a wizard, on my way to acquire all kinds of esoteric and arcane knowledge! May I accompany you?”
“Uh… What’s ‘esoteric’” asked Anthony puzzledly.
“Look!” cried Enddy, pulling out a bronze medallion from his robes. On it was engraved in huge letters: O-O-P.
“What’s OOP?” asked Jinx.
Enddy replied, “OOP stands for ‘Order of Occult Practitioners’. I’m a trained professional. Did you know that there are only 45 OOPs in the whole of Geeland?”
“Uh no. But I don’t really care. But I guess we need the extra wizarding help anyways,” replied Anthony.
“Excellent! I’m also looking for a special tree-dryad – a cedar tree-dryad to be exact. Ooh… I hope I manage to make contact!” said Enddy, as he followed the two friends to the lair of the Beast…
--------------------
Anthony and Jinx awoke early the next morning, and took the highway down in the direction of the Beast’s lair. Jinx had acquired a simple leather jerkin from the royal armoury, as well as a sharp rapier which he displayed surprising skill in. Anthony on the other hand, had picked a suit of full plate mail (complete with embossed lions and geese and even sculpted abs), a huge sword that made him hunch in front slightly due to the weight, and a metal orb which he was now playing with, tossing it from hand to hand.
“Eh Anthony, why in the world did you take that?” asked Jinx, pointing to the little ball he was tossing around.
“Uh I think it’s magic. Why else would the king keep it in his armoury? It must be an item of great power, and one day a great hero will call a great fellowship to him, and use this item to destroy evil after a long and arduous quest!” said Anthony, with a manic gleam in his eye.
“Erm. Okaay.” Was Jinx’s reply.
The highway they took was wide and easy to walk, stamped out with the millions of footsteps of travelers. Around them, the birds flitted in and out of the verdant woods, and the wind tickled their hair with comfortable touches. Suddenly, from out of the bushes, an ambush was sprung!
From around them four men emerged, garbed in green and brown and wielding swords. Even their faces were painted in those colours, which made them hard to spot in the forest. A lithe, jaguar-like man stalked out from the trees in front of them, twirling his sword nonchalantly. He had an eye-patch on an eye, and a wicked-looking goatee.
“Ho ho. If you gentlemen would be so kind as to leave your valuables behind, we can conclude this business and be on our way,” said the sly-looking man.
“No!” cried Anthony. “We cannot be threatened by the likes of you!” The erstwhile adventurer sprang forwards, while trying to pull out his greatsword, and tripped over a rock and rolled down the slope to his right.
“AAAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!”
Jinx and the bandits watched Anthony roll down the slope, bounce off a couple of rocks, and eventually collide into a tree. All of them winced in unison.
Jinx turned to regard the bandit chief. “Hey!” he exclaimed. “Aren’t you the Gallant Bandit, Kennett Hood?”
Kennett Hood beamed at the recognition, and struck a heroic pose. “That’s right! How did you know it was me?”
“I’ve seen posters of you, and heard the poorfolk speak of you in awed tones. They say you’re really nice! They all call you “Mr Friendly”!”
Kennett Hood giggled happily to himself. Jinx took this opportunity to relate the goings-on to Kennett Hood, who nodded as he listened. The bandit leader finally raised his hand, and said, “Enough. I understand now. Since I made a friend in you today, Jinx, I shall let you go. Men! Follow me!”
Kennett Hood and his men suddenly disappeared into the greenery, moving like shadows. A few minutes later, a shout came from the east, “Eh sir! Did you Holland us again?!”
Suddenly, from behind Jinx, charged Anthony, his sword drawn and his flat-top ignominiously filled with dirt and leaves. “Wah! They’re all gone!” he exclaimed in between pants. “Must have been scared off by my war-cry!”
“Erm. Okaay.”
--------------------
The next day passed uneventfully, and Jinx and Anthony came to a crossroads. On a large boulder at the crossroads sat a man, in a voluminous vermillion robe. His robe was sequined with silver and gold stars, and flecked with glitter. On his head was a tall conical hat, that drooped to one side, and he was peering engrossedly at a thick manual. It was obvious to any would-be adventurer that he was-
“A man!” cried Anthony matter-of-factly. Jinx smacked his forehead at his friend’s obvious stupidity.
“Hello! My name is Anthony! Do you know the way to the Beast’s lair?”
“The Beast!” the stranger’s head perked up excitedly. “You are going to look for the Beast? Did you know that it is a one-of-a-kind? There are no other species of it!”
“Uh… Okay. No need so much information. Information overload already.”
“Hi! My name is Enddy. I’m a wizard, on my way to acquire all kinds of esoteric and arcane knowledge! May I accompany you?”
“Uh… What’s ‘esoteric’” asked Anthony puzzledly.
“Look!” cried Enddy, pulling out a bronze medallion from his robes. On it was engraved in huge letters: O-O-P.
“What’s OOP?” asked Jinx.
Enddy replied, “OOP stands for ‘Order of Occult Practitioners’. I’m a trained professional. Did you know that there are only 45 OOPs in the whole of Geeland?”
“Uh no. But I don’t really care. But I guess we need the extra wizarding help anyways,” replied Anthony.
“Excellent! I’m also looking for a special tree-dryad – a cedar tree-dryad to be exact. Ooh… I hope I manage to make contact!” said Enddy, as he followed the two friends to the lair of the Beast…
posted by Bob Bob @ 11:43 PM
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