Copyright
J.B. Norman
With the assistance of the Sisters Darkstone, the Lyte Brigade has reached its long sought-for goal. Travelling across Realmgard, facing a series of challenges and decoding a series of cryptic clues, each one more contrived and needless obtuse than the last, the group of adventurers has finally discovered the hiding place of one of the most legendary treasures in the history of Realmgard.
The eight adventurers hold their breath, eyes wide as they tentatively step towards the treasure.
“We’ve done it!” Amara exclaims, breaking the silence. “We’ve found the Carpet of Oblivion!”
“That carpet is going to look wonderful in our guild office,” Tancred notes. “I can’t help but think it will really tie the room together.”
“Wait,” Matilda interjects. “Why would we want to be walking around something called the Carpet of Oblivion? It’s not going to, like, melt us once we step on it, is it?”
“Don’t worry, Miss Matilda. It’s just a name,” Tancred assures her.
Falcata nods. “Named for the nobleman who commissioned it, the Marquis de Oblivion.”
“I think I know him,” Kat muses. “I’m pretty sure he wrestled Baron von Bad Guy a few years back.’
There’s a flash of light and a rush of wind and the air is filled with the distinct aroma — and fruity aftertaste — of a powerful magic spell being brought to bear.
Suddenly, the figure in along robe and with a hood pull over its face is now standing interposed between the eight adventurers and the Carpet of Oblivion.
“Ugh,” Kat mutters.
If she had a mark for every time an evil wizard interrupted one of her jobs, she have… well, a mark. But it’s still a real hassle.
The stranger throws back his hood. “It is I,” the wizard declares. “Marcomannius the Observer!”
The eight adventurers stare blankly at him.
“Is this a friend of yours?” Falcata asks.
“I have never seen this guy in my life,” Matilda answers.
“He’s a villain, I take it?” Tancred says.
“What did he say his name was?” Pela says. “Macaroni?”
“Macaroni?” the wizard repeats indignantly. “Macaroni? Do you honestly think my name is Macaroni?”
Pela nods.
“I — Wha — How on — Why would you even—” he sputters angrily. “Just — Ugh!”
He waves his arms dramatically and wizardily.
“You are meddling in affairs and powers beyond your ken!” the wizard warns. “For, I Marcomannius —”
He directs a pointed glower at Pela.
“What?” she asks defensive. “It’s not my fault you’re named for a pasta!”
“— the Observer!” the wizard continues dramatically. “Have come to —”
He trails off as Dunstana steps forward and he looks down at the tiny pirate in bewilderment.
“Hey,” she says, drawing her cork gun. “Observe this!”
She shoots, sending a cork hurtling through the air. And right into the wizard’s face.
“Argh!” bellows the wizard, clutching the wounded right side of his face. “You wretched little — Argh!”
Dunstana shoots again, aiming for the other side of his face.
“Lyte Brigade!” Nolan calls. “Move out! And, um, Kat and Dunstana, too, I guess.”
Kat’s just glad it’s somebody other than her getting a cork in the face.
The rest of my writing exercises are here. This one was originally written in March 2023.
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