"Damn and blast. Where's the light?"
"Sir Walter, I'm scared".
"Keep calm, got to think. This is just another trick of that evil bitch".
Screams.
"Your honour, sir, that sounded like Sir James."
"Squire Baldilocks, I know who that sounded like - and, frankly, superiousness in our present circumstances is uncalled for."
"Your honour, I wasn't being, ahem, supercilious, and in any event I don't like the dark."
"Point taken. We need a light. I may have a match"
Fumbling.
"Aha"
Light blossoms, revealing rotund bald squire, puffing and heaving under assortment of metal objects, being principally long two-handed sword, mace, epee, foil, lance, long handled and short handled axes, halberd, various sizes of shield and assorted throwing daggers. Also revealed knight, tall, mustachioed, wearing tabard, chainmail, etc.
Knight applies match to discarded torch and looks around.
"As I recall, we had just entered a large vaulted chamber, when the lights went out. Again."
"Your honour will remember that he and his noble friends had decided to pursue their quest individually, and that your honour was in the admirable process of trying to find a suitably sunlit site to regroup..."
"Really Baldilocks, I know that my fellows and I have not acquitted ourselves very well thus far, and that we have all been scattered about this labyrinth, but there's no call to show your funk so plainly. You do have me to protect you."
"I am most conscious and grateful for the protection afforded by your most honourable self, noble sir, but I would urge that the better part of valour in our present circumstance is to retreat with all speed to a place of safety, so that your glorious self can consider how best to confound the she-demon.."
Baldilock is interrupted by a high-pitched scream, causing him to jump and create much clanking among the objects he is carrying.
Sir Walter has not flinched, but merely lent an eager ear to the direction from which the scream has emanated. Satisfied that he has gauged the direction, he turns a benign smile to his squire, who resumes (but faster).
"...the she-demon who presses ever closer, and who has all the advantages of knowledge of terrain, and who seemed mightily certain of victory when last espied, and who, not to put too fine a point on it my lord, has already captured, and is even now doing goodness knows what unspeakable things to the noble Sir Rupert, Sir Roger, Sir Claude and Sir Sidney, and also, unless I am much mistaken, Sir James. I do not speak, of course, of the fates also being suffered by their squires, who, naturally, must accept the fortunes of war, and regard as their reward the honour and pleasure of serving with lords as noble and.."
"Bosh, Baldilocks. It is true, of course, that some of my noble bretheren have not been as careful as they might, and that they have fallen honourably on the field of combat, and are even now enduring the tortures of that princess of the night, Hecate, but we are confident, are we not, that we will prevail in any encounter."
"We are? Ah, yes, we are entirely confident...although we would comment that your greatness does not always prevail when not at his best. I mention only the Giant Mouse of Thrombosis and the Miniature Elephant of Walthamstow..."
"Enough Baldilocks! These were noble adversaries who defeated me only after glorious mortal combat lasting many minutes. This is different. We are dealing merely with a member of the fairer sex. Now follow."
With a flourish, Sir Walter stalks off into the dark. Baldilocks pauses, mumbling to himself.
"Glorious mortal combat! Huh! What about Mad Maggy of the Strongarm then? She accounted for sixteen knights before she settled down with my colleague wily Willie. And this Hecate. Seems pretty clued up to me. All dressed in black leather, and waving those whips about as if she knows what to do with them. And the way she looked at my glorious leader when he issued his challenge..."
It has grown dark again.
"Wait, your honour! Your greatness will require my assistance in donning his battle-garb! I follow!"
The squire plunges off in the direction of the diminishing flame.
"Sir Walter, I'm scared".
"Keep calm, got to think. This is just another trick of that evil bitch".
Screams.
"Your honour, sir, that sounded like Sir James."
"Squire Baldilocks, I know who that sounded like - and, frankly, superiousness in our present circumstances is uncalled for."
"Your honour, I wasn't being, ahem, supercilious, and in any event I don't like the dark."
"Point taken. We need a light. I may have a match"
Fumbling.
"Aha"
Light blossoms, revealing rotund bald squire, puffing and heaving under assortment of metal objects, being principally long two-handed sword, mace, epee, foil, lance, long handled and short handled axes, halberd, various sizes of shield and assorted throwing daggers. Also revealed knight, tall, mustachioed, wearing tabard, chainmail, etc.
Knight applies match to discarded torch and looks around.
"As I recall, we had just entered a large vaulted chamber, when the lights went out. Again."
"Your honour will remember that he and his noble friends had decided to pursue their quest individually, and that your honour was in the admirable process of trying to find a suitably sunlit site to regroup..."
"Really Baldilocks, I know that my fellows and I have not acquitted ourselves very well thus far, and that we have all been scattered about this labyrinth, but there's no call to show your funk so plainly. You do have me to protect you."
"I am most conscious and grateful for the protection afforded by your most honourable self, noble sir, but I would urge that the better part of valour in our present circumstance is to retreat with all speed to a place of safety, so that your glorious self can consider how best to confound the she-demon.."
Baldilock is interrupted by a high-pitched scream, causing him to jump and create much clanking among the objects he is carrying.
Sir Walter has not flinched, but merely lent an eager ear to the direction from which the scream has emanated. Satisfied that he has gauged the direction, he turns a benign smile to his squire, who resumes (but faster).
"...the she-demon who presses ever closer, and who has all the advantages of knowledge of terrain, and who seemed mightily certain of victory when last espied, and who, not to put too fine a point on it my lord, has already captured, and is even now doing goodness knows what unspeakable things to the noble Sir Rupert, Sir Roger, Sir Claude and Sir Sidney, and also, unless I am much mistaken, Sir James. I do not speak, of course, of the fates also being suffered by their squires, who, naturally, must accept the fortunes of war, and regard as their reward the honour and pleasure of serving with lords as noble and.."
"Bosh, Baldilocks. It is true, of course, that some of my noble bretheren have not been as careful as they might, and that they have fallen honourably on the field of combat, and are even now enduring the tortures of that princess of the night, Hecate, but we are confident, are we not, that we will prevail in any encounter."
"We are? Ah, yes, we are entirely confident...although we would comment that your greatness does not always prevail when not at his best. I mention only the Giant Mouse of Thrombosis and the Miniature Elephant of Walthamstow..."
"Enough Baldilocks! These were noble adversaries who defeated me only after glorious mortal combat lasting many minutes. This is different. We are dealing merely with a member of the fairer sex. Now follow."
With a flourish, Sir Walter stalks off into the dark. Baldilocks pauses, mumbling to himself.
"Glorious mortal combat! Huh! What about Mad Maggy of the Strongarm then? She accounted for sixteen knights before she settled down with my colleague wily Willie. And this Hecate. Seems pretty clued up to me. All dressed in black leather, and waving those whips about as if she knows what to do with them. And the way she looked at my glorious leader when he issued his challenge..."
It has grown dark again.
"Wait, your honour! Your greatness will require my assistance in donning his battle-garb! I follow!"
The squire plunges off in the direction of the diminishing flame.
