Perpetual Doom (now in smaller bits for Le moderation!)

@ 19-06-2012 09:29 AM, Sir Thingguy the 2nd wrote:



Chapter the Sixth — Sir Jonna


Thingguy walked out of the Grand Hall and tried to find his way to the stables. It took a while, but he eventually did it. He walked up to the guard outside the stable door and showed him his Identification.



“Third stall to the right,” said the guard, “I think, anyway.”



Thingguy thanked the guard and walked through the door. He found Deadbeat (in the fourth stall to the left, as it happens) and opened up the stall door. The Black Horse looked up from its dinner and greeted Thingguy with a whinny.



‘What took you so long?’ asked Deadbeat.



“The king was less-than-willing to send me after his daughter alone,” replied Thingguy.



‘And that could stop you how?’ asked Deadbeat.



“He’s a king. And my present employer,” said Thingguy, “I can’t deal with him I usually deal with stubborn people like him.”



‘Why not?’



“Because he’d fire me and probably have me tried for treason if I just thumped him on the head,” said Thingguy icily, “now are you going to help me find Lady Jonna or do I have to borrow a pack mule?”



‘You could always go on foot,’ said Deadbeat, ‘help you work off that tummy you’ve been nursing lately.’



“Oh, ha, ha,” said Thingguy, who’s name was often mistaken for Thin-Guy for a reason, “now keep quiet. I’m the only one who can hear you, so the guard will think I’m crazy.”



‘He won’t be too far off the mark,” said Deadbeat, but he quieted all the same.



Thingguy rode Deadbeat past the guard and galloped off to the gate. He came to the drawbridge and the gatekeeper swaggered out of the gatehouse.



“I need your name, business, and approximate time of return,” said the Gatekeeper.



Thingguy switched to official mode and drew his coat of arms out from under his tunic.



“The identity of the man which thou hath been acquainted with is that of Sir Thingguy II, one of the three founders of the Knights of Olde Speech,” said Thingguy, “the business that brings me through thy gate is that I hath been fore sent to seek out the location of the Lady Jonna, and thereupon ferry said damsel back to present location. My returning would preferably be never, but the actual time of my return is, as yet, a mystery to all.”



“Uh… right,” said the Gatekeeper, “could you say that again? In English?”



“I’M SIR THINGGUY II! I’M GOING AFTER LADY JONNA! I DON’T KNOW!!” Thingguy huffed. He was tired of the deplorable vocabulary of the guards here.



“Okay,” said the Guard, “off you pop.”



Thingguy glared at the guard one last time and then spurred Deadbeat to his (rather impressive) full speed.



‘You handled that well,’ said Deadbeat.



“Huh?” asked Thingguy in confusion, his thoughts clouded with the effort of matching stride with Deadbeat.



‘He wasn’t a King or an employer, and you didn’t thump him.’



“Oh, right,” said Thingguy, “well as long as he’s employed by the same man as I, I should at least be patient towards him.”



‘That wasn’t in the job description,’ said Deadbeat with some disappointment, ‘I enjoy watching you lose your temper.’



“Thanks,” said Thingguy, “but I’ll keep my temper with them all the same.”



‘Like you did with the Gatekeeper?’



“You just said I handled that well!”



‘Sarcasm. It happens to be a language I’m proficient in.’



“No. If you were proficient, people would know when you were using it, and when you weren’t.”



‘Not necessarily,’ said Deadbeat, ‘but don’t argue any further, we’re coming into the Lost Void: the forest that borders the Lost Plains, and that is where Lady Jonna was reported seen.’



“So?” asked Thingguy.



‘So we should keep our concentration on the mission,’ said Deadbeat, ‘and to add to that I know I’m right, so there’s no point in pursuing the subject.’



“Fine,” said Thingguy, and they rode in silence.



Soon enough, they came to the vast forest called the Lost Void. The trees were enormous and the underbrush was thick and tangled. The tales said that is was called the Lost Void because no one could find their way out if they went in. Thingguy didn’t believe it, but he could tell that it would be difficult to navigate through there. But if Lady Jonna could do it, so could he.



“I guess I’ll walk ahead and clear the way with my sword,” said Thingguy, “those branches have rather sharp-looking thorns and I don’t want them to cut those tendons of yours.”



‘Suit yourself,’ said Deadbeat.



Thingguy dismounted Deadbeat and drew his sword from his scabbard. He approached the tangled thorns and branches and swung his sword at the brush. His sharp blade cut through the wooden obstacles and he led his horse through the forest, taking hacks and swings at the tangled brush they came across. After several slow hours of trekking through the woodland, minifigure and horse came out of the forest, scratched in a few places, but otherwise unscathed.



“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” asked Thingguy.



‘Speak for yourself,’ said Deadbeat testily, ‘I’ve got some nasty scratches across my rump.’



“Sunset’s in three hours, and then you rest your poor, scratched rump,” mocked Thingguy.



Deadbeat apparently couldn’t come up with a witty retort to that, because he just snorted and walked away from the forest and towards the cliché-named Lost Plains.



Thingguy smiled to himself since he had finally won an argument against Deadbeat and walked after the horse. 



The plains were vast and flat, with nothing but dead grass everywhere. Two hours passed and still Thingguy walked forward with Deadbeat, the grass getting higher with every thirty meters. The sun was getting low now, and since Thingguy was heading west, his shadow spread out far ahead of him. He lit a torch and continued walking. The sun was just disappearing behind him when he saw it: a horse and rider far ahead of him, just a speck in the distance. He took out his telescope and caught a glimpse of a lady on a white horse when the sun suddenly disappeared. Now Thingguy knew why it was called the Lost Plains. When the sun disappeared, nothing could give off light. An old curse that an ill-natured witch had cast upon the plains made it so that when night fell, no light could shine for more than a meter.



‘Now can I rest my rump?’ asked Deadbeat.



“Huh? Oh, yeah, go ahead,” said Thingguy, distracted. He wasn’t afraid of the dark like Talmid was or anything, he was just… fascinated. He couldn’t help marveling at the way the air swallowed up the light from his torch.



Thingguy cleared away some grass from a spot on the ground and stuck the butt of the torch into the soft dirt. He then gathered a bunch of grasses and made them into a bed of grasses. It was quite comfortable. He turned on his side and watched the fire lick away at the torch. The last thing he saw before he fell asleep was the torch giving a bright burst and then going out.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Thingguy woke the next morning and found Deadbeat grazing on the dead grass that was surrounding them.



‘Good morning,’ said Deadbeat.



“Good morning,” replied Thingguy, “how’d you sleep?”



‘Okay,’ said Deadbeat, ‘but I’ve slept better.’



“Is there something wrong?” asked Thingguy. Deadbeat was not usually this mellow.



‘This grass tastes terrible,’ said Deadbeat, ‘I miss my oats.’



“Oh, okay,” said Thingguy. Food often was the cause if Deadbeat was in a bad mood, “Well, I saw Lady Jonna last night right before the sun set, so we should be able to catch her today, and then you can go home and have those lovely oats.”



‘Okay,’ said Deadbeat, ‘let’s go.’



Deadbeat stopped grazing and lumbered off into the shoulder-high grass. Thingguy quickly grabbed a piece of pizza from his knapsack and hurried off after Deadbeat. He caught up to the horse and was just about to say something when he received a heavy blow in the small of his back.



Thingguy was sent tumbling forward and did a shoulder roll to break his momentum. He picked himself off the ground and saw a sharp blade swinging towards him. He ducked and then lashed out with his foot, catching his attacker in the shin and causing him to stumbled awkwardly away. Thingguy stood up again and drew his own sword, parrying the stroke that came hard at his skull. He twisted his sword so that the two crosspieces of the swords were locked together and got a look at his attacker. His attacker had long, dark hair, and was wearing a gown. It was Lady Jonna.



A white blur and a pair of hooves hitting his sword hard interrupted Thingguy’s surprise. His sword was sent spinning away and Lady Jonna drew back her sword for a final blow. In desperation, Thingguy threw the only thing he had with him. The piece of pizza that was meant to be his breakfast.



As the pizza made contact with her skin, Lady Jonna screamed and recoiled in a fit of hysterics. She peeled the pizza of her face and used her sleeve to wipe off the sauce that remained. Thingguy quickly grabbed his sword and turned to face Lady Jonna. She had her sword in her hands too, and was rushing towards him. He sidestepped her attack and she was sent sprawling in the high grass. Her horse ran at Thingguy again, but this time Deadbeat leaped in front of the white horse and it made contact with the muscled side of the black horse.



Lady Jonna was up again and was now approaching Thingguy more slowly. She swung at him a couple of times, and now Thingguy realized that they were not the swings of an experienced swordsman (or, more rather, swordswoman), but the swings of someone who desperately wanted to be experienced, but had no past familiarity with the weapon.



Thingguy now lunged at Lady Jonna, and as he expected, she brought her sword up sideways instead of diagonal. The two swords met and Thingguy smiled and then yanked his sword upward, twisted around, flicked his wrist, and now faced a defenseless Lady Jonna.



“Who are you?” asked Lady Jonna.



“I art Sir Thingguy II,” said Thingguy, “I was assigned to find thee and escort thee back to thy father, King Matthias.”



“No!” said Lady Jonna, “No! I don’t want to go back, I’m like a prisoner there!”



“Nonetheless, thou art going home,” said Thingguy.



“I’m not going back!” she screamed, and drew a dagger from her belt. It was sent spinning away by another flick from Thingguy’s sword. An idea occurred to Lady Jonna.



“You’re pretty handy with that sword,” said Lady Jonna.



“What?” asked Thingguy, surprised at the sudden change of subject.



“Could you teach me how to use a sword like that?” asked Lady Jonna.



Thingguy, being a sword teacher by trade, nodded.



“Why?” Thingguy asked.



“I promise to go back with you, if you teach me how to use a sword like you,” said Lady Jonna.



“Why, so that thou can murder me in my sleep?” asked Thingguy, “and anyways, it would take great time to become a master.”



“I don’t want to be a master, I just want to be passable, enough to beat those guards who taunt me for wanting to be a knight,” said Jonna, “and I want to talk like you, too. I know, make me a knight!”



“A monkey could beat those imbeciles called guards,” muttered Thingguy, then in a louder voice, “the ability to talk like myself is not an ability able to be taught. Nay, it is a natural gift. And I couldn’t make thee a knight!”



“Well, fine, forget the talking, I’ll learn that myself,” said Lady Jonna, “but why can’t you make me a knight?”



“Thou art a girl!”



“Make me a dame, then,” said Jonna, “just teach me how to use a sword!”



“Never!”



“Then I’m not coming back with you.”



Thingguy thought about it for a moment. What could it hurt? She wouldn’t hurt her own guards, would she? And the king would be happy to know that his daughter could defend herself!



“Okay, fine,” he said, “I’ll teach you to use a sword if you promise to not be any trouble.”



“I promise,” said Lady Jonna, “and why’d you stop talking like you were from old England?”



“I only do that on official conversations or orders,” said Thingguy, “we’re pretty lax about that nowadays, as when we started this order, if we were to slip out of old talk we’d implore forgiveness for our treason.”



“I see,” said Lady Jonna.



“Now,” said Thingguy, “I’m going to have some breakfast.”



He reached into his knapsack again and drew out another piece of pizza. At the sight of it Lady Jonna shrieked and stepped back a few paces.



“Oh for Pete’s sake, it’s only pizza!” said Thingguy in exasperation. He was NOT going to escort someone who hated pizza.



“PETE?” shrieked Lady Jonna, “Is he here? Where? NO!!!!!!!!!!!!”



Thingguy sighed and chased after the shrieking Lady Jonna, who was now running for her life through the tall grass.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@ 28-06-2012 04:05 PM, Sir Ninjago_builders Wrote:

Here it is, the long awaited chapter.

=== Chapter VI=== (Actually Chapter VII)
After Thingguy2 had finally caught up to Jonna and convinced her that she wouldn’t be tortured to death by an invisible green and purple pizza, he began instructing her on how to hold a sword. “You start out with it in your hand like this.” He held his sword slanting upward and out toward Jonna. Jonna copied his movements. “Good. Now Move your feet into this position so that you are stable when you attack. Now the basic attack like this,” he demonstrated, “and then you can add onto that and come back from this side when your opponent tries to block the first swing” He continued and told her about other attacks. After a couple of hours of practicing the correct attacks, he showed her how to block attacks. “When an opponent attacks you can parry and move over here to go on the attack. Or,” he changed his position again, “if you hold it from this side and give a small flick of your hand his weapon will slide off your angled sword, leaving their side open for an attack like this.” He demonstrated. “Or…” Thingguy went on about different kinds of parries, and how to act after you have used them. When his list of 35 different kinds of defensive positions was over, he said, “And then there’s the one that us Knights of the Old Speech use the most. I call it the Tree Tactic. The move is where you jump behind a tree.” He jumped behind a nearby tree to show her how to do it. Then, he jumped back, his face white as a sheet of paper. Go pick up a piece of paper to see how white he was.

“G-g-get bac-ck,” stammered Thingguy to Jonna.

“What’s the matter?” she asked. “Is there anything wrong?”

What was wrong was that an entirely round fish bowl was rolling forward on treads and a small guppy was at the controls, steering it. Then, at the top of the fishbowl, a hatch opened up and the fish stuck out its head.

“Hey *Squeak* dude,” he said in a high-pitched voice. “I’m *Squeak* Squeaky!”

Thingguy nearly fainted.

“It-t-t-t’s a t-t-t-t-talk-k-k-king fish-h-h.”

“Yep!” it squeaked. Now Thingguy was a very brave knight, and never in all of his travels had he been afraid of something, but Squeaky was over the max his bravery abilities could hold.

“R-r-run,” He said shakily.

“Oh don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong with Squeaky,” Jonna reassured him. “He’s my pet guppy.”

“Yep!” confirmed Squeaky.

“Oh, um, nice to meat you,” Thingguy said, holding out his hand to shake. Then he remembered that Squeaky was a fish and that he couldn’t shake his hand.”

“Yep!” replied Squeaky.”

“Are you going to say something besides ‘Yep!’?” said Thingguy.

“Yep!”

“Well than say it!”

“Squeak!”

Thingguy sighed in disbelief.

Hey! I got that Tree Tactic move down!” Jonna exclaimed.

The sun slowly sunk below the jagged edge of the horizon, and it started to grow dark.

“Best we set up camp now,” Thingguy advised.

They pitched a tent for the night just as they were swallowed in blackness. Finally, after lying in his tent for some time, Thingguy drifted off into an uneasy sleep, his dreams full of talking sharks and evil guppies. He awoke to the first rays of sunlight seeping through his tent. He didn’t want to get up; he just wanted to lie on his mattress a little more. He was sore from the previous days riding and felt too tired to move. Slowly, he forced himself out of bed and started getting breakfast. Best to eat all his pizza before Jonna woke up. He crammed it down his throat and savored the rich tomato sauce, the slightly spicy pepperoni, and a shriveled mushroom. Hmm, maybe he could live without the mushroom. He threw it back over his head where it plopped to the ground. After the sun had progressed a little farther across the sky, Jonna awoke. She rubbed her eyes sleepily before taking some hardboiled eggs from out of her pack. She started pealing one, but then dropped it and jumped back in alarm almost exactly like Thingguy2 did when he saw squeaky.

“Th-there it is,” she said shakily.

“What?” Thingguy inquired.

“The traces of P-P-Peter,” she said, pointing to the mushroom that Thingguy had thrown over his head. “He must have been spying on us last night.” She looked around, as if expecting Peter to come out and charge them any moment. Squeaky also looked apprehensive. He exclaimed in his high pitched voice, “Peter?! Ahh! Jonna told me how evil he is!” He dropped his voice to nearly a whisper. “And she said that he has dead anchovies! Agg!” He shuddered. Thingguy rolled his eyes up to the sky. The next few days were much like the first; sword practice, talking fish, and Peter. Mostly Peter, though. Still, they made headway on Jonna’s sword skills, and soon Thingguy thought that she was good enough with a sword to be able to hold her own in a fight. As they went to saddle their horses, he remembered that he hadn’t fed Deadbeat that day and that he would probably be very irritable. They walked up to their horses and started to saddle them. Jonna said, “I’m sorry, I was doing my sword practice today, I didn’t have time.”

“Excuse me?” said Thingguy.

“Oh, um, it might sound strange, but I can talk to my horse,” Jonna replied.

“Oh,” said Thingguy.

“See? I’m not crazy,” Thingguy whispered in Deadbeat’s ear.

“Why would I think you’re crazy?” Deadbeat inquired innocently.

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember all the times that you said I must be crazy because I’m the only one who could talk to horses,” replied Thingguy. “You know you said it.” And to that, Deadbeat had no reply, other than, “I’m hungry.” Thingguy smiled. Jonna, who had overheard Thingguy’s whispered conversation with his horse came up to him and said, “You can talk to horses too? Now I have proof that I’m not crazy! My horse always said that I must be crazy because I was the only one who could talk to horses.”

“Really? What a surprise.”

They rode off, back to the woods, and Thingguy got off his horse to clear the way for them through the trees. Hopping off her horse, Jonna insisted that she be allowed to clear the way as well, and attacked the trees with her sword as if they were an enemy that needed to be chopped into firewood. Sometime after noon, they reached the end of the forest. Thingguy saw the battle at hand, and jumped off his horse to help. Talmid rode toward them, chased by seven other evil horsemen. Before Thingguy could react, however, a large missile rack unfolded from Squeaky’s fish tank and fired a volley of heat seeking missiles after the enemy. All of the horsemen except one were blown into the air. The third horseman charged Jonna, but she sidestepped his horse and knocked him down to the ground. Talmid rode at him and he was soon smashed.

“Finally, you’re back,” he said to Thingguy. “Let’s go, we’ve got a battle to win.”


@ 01-07-2012 12:47 AM, Sir Talmid wrote:

=== Chapter VII=== (Actually Chapter VIII)
As he was saying "We've got a battle to win.", Talmid had taken a slice of pizza from one of the numerous pockets that adorned the saddle of his brown stallion, and he had begun munching on it. Jonna's eyes bugged out at the sight of it, and when Talmid innocently asked, "Want some too?" and held out a piece to the Lady, she fell off her horse.



"Long story," Thingguy said quickly, and hopped off Deadbeat to help Jonna back onto Hwin. "I don't even know any of it."



Talmid shrugged. "Fine with me." he said, putting the spare pizza back in the pocket and finishing his own. "Sir Legoboy and I are on our way to meet with Sir Seton and Sir Lukas near the Fire Hills," he informed Sir Thingguy. The Fire Hills were really a long range of mountains near the edge of King Mathias's kingdom's North border, bordering two neighboring kingdoms. When a war was being waged, huge piles of wood were set aflame to signal for allied assistance. "Want to come?"



Thingguy was going to answer yes, but he saw Jonna still staring in a panic at the tomato sauce dribbling down Talmid's chin, putting nice red stains on his armored vest. "Uh, I think not, Sir," Thingguy stammered.



"Understood, Sir Thingguy." Talmid said with a nod, and glanced at Sir Lukas who was leading a battalion of King Mathias's riders towards The Ghost Passages, which were the fastest route to The Fire Hills. "I'll be going now, good luck Thingguy, Jonna!" he called as he nudged his knees into his stallion's side. With a whinny, the horse took off, and Thingguy thought he could hear Talmid saying, "Hey, that's not even enough force to hurt a fly! You're being a nuisance, Ace."



Thingguy shrugged, and slowly turned Deadbeat to face the main road that would take them back to the castle. Strangely without a protest of any kind, Deadbeat began trotting along the road, when Thingguy felt Jonna's hand on his shoulder.



"I can feel him," she whispered, looking around wildly.



"Who-?" Thingguy asked, startled, but then came to his senses. "You mean Peter the-"



"Shhhh!" Jonna clamped a hand over his mouth. "We shouldn't mention his name, or he'll find us!" she squeaked. "The main road lacks decent coverage to protect us from him."



With an exasperated sigh, Thingguy proclaimed, "Peter the Pizza is fake."



Jonna glared at him, and headed Hwin in the direction of a sideroad which lead into the "Void Minor", a less dense part of the "Lost Void" which stretched on until a small town near the castle.



Realizing he wouldn't be able to change her mind, Thingguy pointed Deadbeat away from a bush he was eating from after Jonna and Hwin. Irritated, Deadbeat whined, "I'm hungry."



"I'll give you more oats than you can ever imagine if you just do what I say for once," Thingguy seethed.



"Well I can imagine quiet a bit." Deadbeat countered.



"You'll get it," Thingguy grumbled.



"I'd better." Deadbeat replied.



"You will." Thingguy added with some hesitation, "I promise."



"You broke all of the last five promises you made to me." Deadbeat muttered, but before Thingguy could talk back, the horse lumbered away from his bushes after Jonna, who had already went pretty far into the shadows of the Void Minor. Apparently the prospect of food was too much for Deadbeat to put up much of a fight. With a smirk, Thingguy leaned back, and closed his eyes. Deadbeat may be annoying at times, but Thingguy trusted him to follow Jonna and Hwin wherever they went, as long as he was blinded by millions and millions of imaginary oats.



...



A growling sound awoke Thingguy from his very bumpy and uncomfortable nap. It was so uncomfortable that there was a possibility Thingguy wasn't even asleep, but he got some rest nonetheless. "Is that you Deadbeat?" he mumbled, as the growling noise reached his ears again. "Always thinking of your stomach."



"It's not me," Deadbeat said defensively.



Thingguy sat up straight on his saddle, and looked ahead. There was no sign of Jonna or Hwin, and Thingguy's heart began beating rapidly in a growing panic. Then he realized it was nighttime, thus very dark that he couldn't see anything more than five feet ahead of him, and the sound of hooves clomping on the ground more than five feet ahead of him assured the knight that Jonna was still ahead.



Thingguy took a deep breath, and was about to go back to sleep when he heard the growling again. He looked down at his stomach, and Deadbeat muttered, "It's you."



"Not me!" Thingguy cried. "I'm not even hungry."



The growling intensified, and the hairs on the back of Thingguy's neck rose. His ears twitched, and as the noise grew louder, he discerned it was coming from behind.



And above.



He barely had enough time to draw his sword and whirl around before out of the dark came a massive, purple form. A green tummy, and green spots adorned its sides, but that was all Thingguy saw before a large tail struck his face and knocked him clean off Deadbeat and onto the hard road. His head banged against a rock, and the last thing Thingguy was aware of was Jonna screaming and a horrendous, obnoxious, laugh coming from the thing that hit him.



And then it spoke, "Hohoho, oh boy oh boy! This is super deeeeeeeee duper! Prepare to die!" before the unconscious form of Deadbeat collapsed down on Sir Thingguy, knocking him out as well.





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