Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard.
Where anything goes.
-//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7
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Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard. Where anything goes. -//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7 |
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Tuesday, February 03, 2004 - War of Words, Part IV - And so, with my first designation and stil lugging that blasted oversized sword around with me, following a conceited and stuck-up royal pain who wasn't any less clueless than I was, we eventually came to a place most critical to any wandering adventurer (who just happens to be lost), which was, of course, the humble township. We followed the tarred road as it gradually turned away from the cliffside and eventually, the fences of the farm I first encountered gave way to those of another, and so on. Each patch of farmland seemed smaller as we walked, Pwyns Xjrmynq whistling a merry tune of Consonance to himself, sounding like a canary in a gas-flooded mine, and occasionally teasing me on not being able to whistle an adventuresome tune of my own. I didn't want to make a fool of myself by pursing my lips and making a rude noise so I just kept quiet and mumbled resentful curses to myself. Eventually, the perimeter of those "farmlands" shrank so much that they seemed little more than gardens compared to the size of the homestead, and it was then I realised that we had reached a settlement. It was nothing spectacular, nothing overly exciting which made it exceptional. It kind of reminded me of those shanty "Wild West" towns featured in cowboy movies, where buildings were simply constructed out of bricks, planks, and simple grass thatch, and people idled about the village crossroads in a carefree manner, presumably with some destination in mind but to the untrained eye in a seemingly random fashion. The only significant difference is that we weren't in the middle of the desert, with people wearing stupid overlarge hats and speaking in a twisted drawl, but among normal people who dressed casually and ... for the most part, ignored the two of us. With the village fountain in sight, and a short distance away from the largest buildings in the town, Pwyns stopped to survey the situation at hand. Or rather, he was surveying me, as he glanced behind and gave me an inquisitive stare. "My, you've been quiet so far. Aren't you enjoying your noble quest as my gracious and honourable Xkwyr?" he asked, giving me a gleaming smile that would look better with a fist in the middle of it. "N ... no ..." I burbled, as yet another drop of sweat trickled from my upper lip, fell, and rolled down the front of my dress. When one is put under heavy physical strain, the powers of communication are severely dulled, and the body has no recourse but to place more emphasis on mere observation. Another bead of sweat struck the tarred ground with force enough for an audible plop. "Well, I don't know what you are saying, but ..." he considered as he stroked his chin with his right hand while he played with the dagger in the other, "I'm not a native of this land, and I was wondering if you knew where we were ..." "N ... no ..." I blubbered. Another bead of sweat rolled off my chin, squirreled down my right arm and off my little finger, onto the scabbard of that monstrously heavy sword, and down it slithered until it had not energy or substance enough to continue. This pent-up rage in me can't do any good if it isn't translated into eloquence on the part of my speech. "I can't ... carry ... this ... damn thing ..." "Dear me, you are really tired, aren't you?" he commented, rather oblivious to my plight. What incredible powers of observation he has. "Y ... yes ..." I groaned as I thrust the tip of the sword against the tar and leaned on its hilt. So what if it was a royal artifact? Only number one mattered to me right now. "We must find our bearings ... there's no time to rest on our laurels!" he announced in his typical moronic fashion, as I rolled my eyes before blinking furiously as sweat entered them, "Though, I do offer the royal handkerchief bearing the mark of the monarchy of Consonance to soothe the brows of a fair lady such as yourself. Well, I did blow my nose into it once or twice but that should not detract from your appreciation of the ..." "Hey, who are you?" a gruff voice yelled from a short distance away. Looking up from the ground, I saw two heavily-armoured and polearm-bearing guards advancing toward us, bearing a triangle-shaped coat of arms across their chests. Now's your turn to shine, mister high-and-mighty. "Was someone calling us?" Pwyns murmured, a puzzled look across his face as he watched the guards advancing toward us at an orderly marching pace. "Yes, the two of you! State your origin and your purpose!" the right guard exclaimed. He was carrying a tall halberd which bore a mighty axe blade. It looked fearsome. "You're not from around here! Provide your identity, so that we may proceed with background checks!" the left guard demanded. He hoisted a heavy spear with a large, double-bladed head upon it. It looked deadly. "What do they want?" pondered Pwyns as the guards came into striking range, while scratching his head and tucking the dagger into a clasp at his belt, "They're mumbling something ..." "Didn't you hear them?" I retorted. The apprehension at being confronted with unpleasant and potentially hostile strangers was enough for me to overcome the sting of salty sweat across my lips. Was the royal twit acting dumb or something? "Why don't you tell him who you are ..." Well, actually, I didn't even know who I was, or where I had come from. Well. "Oh, the girl spoke," observed the left guard, as he rested the spear against his shoulder plate. "Perhaps that young man may be hard of hearing," contributed the right guard, as he rested against the handle of his halberd. "No, he isn't!" I protested as I clutched the sword against my chest, in an attempt to stifle my antagonism, "I ... I don't know what you are talking about. What's going on ..." "Well, good sirs," Pwyns Xjrmynq interrupted me as he thrust an arm across my face to introduce himself, "It may do you good to know that I am the most upright and honourable Pwyns Xjrmynq, heir to the throne of Consonance and most worthy and deserving suitor of the good Princess Uaeouue of your beautiful and splendent nation ..." "I don't understand a word he's saying," murmured the left guard as he addressed his compatriot, "Do you?" "He must be a foreigner, for all I know," replied the right guard, answering his comrade, "But isn't that ..." "What?" I stammered, somewhat intimidated as the two guards simultaneously peered somewhere around my chest area, "What is it?" "The royal crest of the evil kingdom of Consonance!" exclaimed the left guard as he steadied his weapon, "How dare they infiltrate our sanctified lands!" "The murdering scoundrels from across the mountains!" growled the right guard as he readied himself, "We must eliminate all enemies of the king and the people!" "Uwaa! I'm not one of the Consonance or whatever!" I cried as I backed away, holding the sword ever more tightly to my chest. Sure, it was heavy and annoying, but it was the only real weapon I had other than my feet. I turned to the perpetually clueless Pwyns Xjrmynq who was still blabbering on about his grandiose and exceptional heritage and whispered, "Er ... good sir, mister Xjrmynq ..." "And that is why I believe I am deserving of the hand in marriage of the beautiful and exquisite Princess Uaeouue. Although, if I may, I do request you kindly provide accommodation for my dear Xkwyr here, for though she may be of lowly and commonplace upbringing, her help has proven most invaluable in encountering good people such as yourselves and I wish to show my gratitude by ..." And then he realised that I was timorously tugging at a fold of cloth on his back, "Did you just say that you're not one with Consonance?" "N ... no, I mean, I'm with you ..." I stuttered, not wanting to get utterly alienated with two increasingly fearsome looking characters bearing down on me, "But ..." "The girl has confessed it!" announced the left guard as he raised his spear to strike, "She is a guide for the infiltrator! We must eliminate her and the villain she serves!" "Your treachery is unforgivable!" proclaimed the right guard as he hoisted his halberd to attack, "Traitors are punished by death! Let neither of the infidels live!" "Er ..." I backed away yet another step as I summoned all the strength within before, before screeching at the top of my voice to shock Pwyns Xjrming out of his air of conceit, "They're going to kill us!" "Oh, they are?" Pwyns murmured, before he looked up and saw an axe head descending to slice open his own, "Then it looks like we must fight them!" With the deftest of leaps he dodged the blow which cleaved nothing but the empty air. "To battle, faithful Xkwyr!" Battle? What battle? Am I supposed to fight? And ... how am I supposed to fight? And then the razor-sharp tip of a spear pierced the air somewhere to the right of my head and presumably would have pierced the ribs of a Charlotte a few inches taller than I was. Caught by surprise, I leapt backwards yanking the massive sword with me. As adrenaline surged through my system, I knew that I had to defend myself in any way possible. And, considering the unreliability of my companion, I was the one who had to take up the fight. 15. Taste steel, you villain! - if Charlotte is a Swords-girl 16. My magic will destroy you! - if Charlotte is a Priestess - Uwaaa!! No! I don't! I don't! I don't wanna end the adventure here! - posted by Charlotte | 3:28 pm
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Disclaimer : The Slayers and Filia Ul Copt and all images thereof are the property of Hajime Kanzaka and Rui Araizumi. I don't own any of them, although if I had a choice I would want Filia ... ~//n_n\\7 |
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