It all began on a dark winter night... I mean, it wasn't exactly during winter, more of around June 24th... and it also wasn't really night, which results in it not being too dark either. As a matter or fact, it was more like a sunny morning in late spring, with many Keepers of the Grove prancing joyfully about the place, ressurecting trees just for the heck of it. Truly, a lovely sight.
But the air... oh yes, it was definitely that of a dark winter night! And it was exactly that sort of sunny, joyful mornings that made the evil Lich King sit angrily in his black citadel, and stare angrily into the dark winter night -ish air. The evil Lich King approached his window, in the topmost tower of his evil black citadel. He could feel the warmth of that sunny day, despite that dark winter night -ish air. He drew some warm air into his hollow rib cage, and thought to himself "Hmmm... I know it may sound corny, but I'm totally in the mood for doing something evil!". He picked up his evil black phone and dialed 666-Acolyte. "My life for Ner'zhul", declared a dark voice on the other side of the line.
Moments later, an Acolyte coughed into the room through the evil black door. "Acolyte, I have a mission for thee!", declared the Lich King in a very dramatic and royal voice. The Lich King explained to the Acolyte the details of his evil plan, and the Acolyte hurried to leave the room, muttering "My life for Aiur! Uh, I mean, Ner'zhul!". "Oh, and Acolyte, one more thing!", thundered the voice of the Lich King once more. "What is it, my king?", coughed the Acolyte's head through the door. "Could you pick up some milk and bread on your way back?", asked the Lich King politely. "Certainly, my liege", coughed the Acolyte, and quickly left the citadel. The evil Lich King hovered back to the window, and stared towards the distant city of Elvenville. ("Ooh, Elvenville!", commented Magis). "Begone, you crazy writer!", he muttered and laughed cruelly, and his laugher echoed across his evil kingdom.
On the next morning, the Elven king woke up from his Elvish sleep in his Elvish castle in the middle of Elvenville. "Servant, where is my breakfast?", roared the king Elvishly, and soon enough a servant arrived, carrying a tray with the royal breakfast on it. "Ah, excellent, just what I needed!", exclaimed the king with delight at the sight of his royal breakfast, which consisted of a toast, some fried bacon and a greater healing potion. "Anything else, your Elvishness?", inquired the servant politely. "Yes, could you please open the window, so that I may feast my eyes upon the beautiful view of this Elvish country?", replied the king. "But, your Elvishness", explained the servant, "The window has already been opened". "What?", roared the king, and smote his toast, "So how come I cannot see our beloved country outside it?". "Well, I'm no landscape architect, your Elvishness, but I would say that the reason for that is the great undead Ziggurat that stands in front of the window", apologized the servant. "What treachery is this?!", shrieked the king, "Who dares construct a hideous abomination such as this outside my royal window?!". "Was it… you, servant?!", he added suspiciously. "Of course not, your Elvishess!", replied the servant quickly, "I am but a humble servant, uncapable of performing such great tasks overnight!". "I shall find the person responsible of this despicable crime!", declared the king in a royal voice and marched out the door, not forgetting to put the greater healing potion in his inventory. "But, your Elvishness!", mumbled the servant, "You have forgotten to wear your royal pants!". "Yes, I may have!", agreed the king, marching royally back into the room, "But we shall not let such petty details stand in our way! Now, go and summon the high council!".
Shortly after, the high council was assembled on top of the highest mountain in Elvenville. "O great Elven king!", spoke one of the Elves and sneezed Elvishly, "Why must we always assemble the council on this high snowy mountain?". "Why, because this is the High Council!", replied the king, "Now, let's get on with the issues of the day!". One of the Elves got up. "Well, those burning meteors continue to rain upon our land as we speak, resulting in many casualties, and terrorizing the remaining citizens...", he began to said, when he was interrupted by the king. "Enough of this foolishness!", demanded the king, "We have matters more grave to discuss than these puny meteors! There is a Ziggurat upon my garden, blocking the view out of my window!". All the Elves of the High Council immediately began to whisper amongst themselves, the fear glowing in their eyes. "A Ziggurat?!", asked one of them faintly. "Something must be done!", agreed another. "But.. the meteors.. casualties.. fire raging across the plains..", mumbled the first Elf. "Well someone better arrange their priorities straightened up...", mocked one of the Elves. "Yeah, you're always complaining about your poor little citizens...", growled the king, "O, our poor citizens are starving, struggling with the plague, being eaten by Ogres and Centaurs... can you not see that the crisis which we are facing here is greater than any crisis we have even known?".
For a long time, the king and his High Council sat and discussed the problem rationally, trying to figure out the best solution:
-"I believe the answer lies within.. cheese"
-"No, it doesn't"
-"Yes it does"
-"No it doesn't"
-"Alright then! Fish!"
-"What fish?!"
-"This fish!"
-"That's no fish, it is your sword!"
-"It could be a fish"
-"And even then it would not help us in this crisis!"
-"Very well. So I suggest that we run up to their door, ring the bell, and run away"
-"Nonsense, we Elves run away from nothing!"
-"Alright, then we will run around!"
"Silence!", screamed the king, "We need a real solution here, not a lunch of cheese and fish!". "May I suggest a solution, your Elvishness?", asked one of the Elves. "Yes you may", muttered the king, "As long as it involves neither cheese nor fish...". "Thank you, your Elvishness", replied the Elf, "My idea is as follows: we need to find a hero! A bold hero! One that is both brave and witted, not to mention.. dispensable!". "You don't mean…", whispered another Elf in horror. "Yes!", continued the first Elf, "We must summon… Sir Magis the Blue!". "Then so it shall be!", ordered the king, "Bring forth the Elvish messanger!". One of the Elves quickly put an Elvish Messanger sign around his neck.
"Here I am, your Elvishness!", he said.
"Excellent!", replied the king, "Go immediately to the village and fetch us Sir Magis the Blue! You can probably find him roaming about the nearby forests".
"Right away, your Elvishness!", saluted the messanger and started down the mountain.
"Messanger!", screamed the king, "We have a national crisis at hand, and you take the long way off the mountain?!".
"But, your Elvishness", hesitated the messanger, "The only other way down is off this 2500 meters high cliff, which hangs right above the Valley Of Really Sharp Rocks!".
"Sharp rocks?!", cried the king, "Are you going to let something like a bunch of rocks sharp enough to cut you in half delay an errand as important as this?!".
"But, your Elvishness", muttered the messanger again, "There are said to be dragons in that valley to eat all who might survive the fall!".
"Dragons, shmagons!", announced the king royally and shoved the messanger off the cliff, "It's a ziggurat we are talking about here!!!".
"But the valley is also inhabited by mean Elf-eating level 8 creeps!", echoed the messanger's voice and faded as he dropped like an Elvish rock from the cliff.
Magis was roaming about the green forests of Elvenville, when suddenly he heard a scream. "Alas!", declared Magis, "A damsel in distress! I better rescue her from whichever unfortunate fate has come upon her!". Swiftly hurried Magis towards the damsel in distress. "Hmmm...", spoke Magis to the readers, "It seems as if this scream is coming from the Valley of Really Sharp Rocks!".
As Magis arrived at the Valley of Really Sharp Rocks, he noticed a large dragon chewing on something, which could very well have been a damsel in distress. "Sir Magis to the rescue!", he announced Elvishly and charged towards the beast.
"Round 1", declared an unknown voice, and the battle began. The dragon stared threateningly at Magis, smoke coming out of his nostrils. "For glory!!!", screamed Magis his traditional warcry, and quickly disposed of the dragon's unnecessary head and limbs. The nearly-digested messanger rolled out of the dragon's mouth.
"Thank you, Magis!", he coughed, "I have been searching for you!".
"What?", exclaimed Magis, "You are no damsel in distress! Begone, nasty impostor!".
"Wait, Magis!", cried the messanger, "I have a message for you from the Elven king!".
"The Elven king?", replied Magis in shock.
"Yes, the Elven king!", repeated the messanger dramatically, "He requested that you come at once to the meeting place of the High Council!".
"What is it about?", asked Magis suspiciously.
"It is a matter of national security!", emphasized the messanger, "All I am allowed to reveal is that it is related to a ziggurat, and the king".
"A ziggurat?", pondered Magis, "That does not sound so important!".
"Doesn't it?", gasped the messanger, "Well, it might also involve... a flying sheep!".
"A flying sheep?!", recoiled Magis, "Well why didn't you say so? There is no time to waste!".
"My mission... complete, at long last...", said the messanger and collapsed onto the dusty floor.
Magis looked at the messanger. "He was a fine Elf", he said, "And he died bravely. But now I must hurry to meet the king, and learn more of the perilous quest that lies ahead!".
"I'm not dead!", shouted the messanger, but Magis was already on his way to the top of the mountain.
Magis reached the top of the mountain. "Ooh, Elves!", he said enthusiastically.
"Yes, High Elves", agreed the king, "High Council Elves even!".
"Why are so excited anyway?", wondered one of the council Elves aloud. "Well", explained Magis, "You're all Elves! Elves own!".
The council Elf handed Magis a small mirror. "Ooh, an Elf!", exclaimed Magis in surprise, "Can I keep this?".
"There is no time for this nonsense!", argued the king, "We have a national crisis to take care of!".
"Oh right", Said Magis, "The sheep issue... Worry not, I shall take care of those nasty creatures!".
"Sheep?! Are you insane?!", replied the king with a bewildered look, "This matter is hardly that fuzzy! This is about a ziggurat, young Elf, and we must not undervalue the danger which lies within it!".
"A ziggurat?", cried Magis, "Why, this is far worse than I ever suspected! What's wrong with this ziggurat, is it bleeding?".
"Bleeding? Have you gone insane?", roared the king, "The bloody thing is blocking the view out of my window, and it is up to you to get rid of it A.S.A.B!".
"Don't you mean A.S.A.P, your Elvishness?", wondered Magis aloud.
"Argh, it can be N.F.L for all I care!", screamed the king in despair, "Just get on with your quest already!".
Magis stood silently for a minute with confusion in his eyes. "Well then", he declared eventually, "Whether it is a sheep, or a ziggurat which may or may not be bleeding, I shall get rid of it at once!".
Magis started down the mountain. "Don't you think you should take the short way down?", suggested the king and began approaching him.
"Uh... perhaps on another day", muttered Magis and fled down the long way.
Thus began the heroic quest of the great heroic hero, Sir Magis the Blue.
All names and incidents appearing in this story are fictional. Names and incidents that resemble real names or incidents are either coincidental or were used on purpose.
But the air... oh yes, it was definitely that of a dark winter night! And it was exactly that sort of sunny, joyful mornings that made the evil Lich King sit angrily in his black citadel, and stare angrily into the dark winter night -ish air. The evil Lich King approached his window, in the topmost tower of his evil black citadel. He could feel the warmth of that sunny day, despite that dark winter night -ish air. He drew some warm air into his hollow rib cage, and thought to himself "Hmmm... I know it may sound corny, but I'm totally in the mood for doing something evil!". He picked up his evil black phone and dialed 666-Acolyte. "My life for Ner'zhul", declared a dark voice on the other side of the line.
Moments later, an Acolyte coughed into the room through the evil black door. "Acolyte, I have a mission for thee!", declared the Lich King in a very dramatic and royal voice. The Lich King explained to the Acolyte the details of his evil plan, and the Acolyte hurried to leave the room, muttering "My life for Aiur! Uh, I mean, Ner'zhul!". "Oh, and Acolyte, one more thing!", thundered the voice of the Lich King once more. "What is it, my king?", coughed the Acolyte's head through the door. "Could you pick up some milk and bread on your way back?", asked the Lich King politely. "Certainly, my liege", coughed the Acolyte, and quickly left the citadel. The evil Lich King hovered back to the window, and stared towards the distant city of Elvenville. ("Ooh, Elvenville!", commented Magis). "Begone, you crazy writer!", he muttered and laughed cruelly, and his laugher echoed across his evil kingdom.
On the next morning, the Elven king woke up from his Elvish sleep in his Elvish castle in the middle of Elvenville. "Servant, where is my breakfast?", roared the king Elvishly, and soon enough a servant arrived, carrying a tray with the royal breakfast on it. "Ah, excellent, just what I needed!", exclaimed the king with delight at the sight of his royal breakfast, which consisted of a toast, some fried bacon and a greater healing potion. "Anything else, your Elvishness?", inquired the servant politely. "Yes, could you please open the window, so that I may feast my eyes upon the beautiful view of this Elvish country?", replied the king. "But, your Elvishness", explained the servant, "The window has already been opened". "What?", roared the king, and smote his toast, "So how come I cannot see our beloved country outside it?". "Well, I'm no landscape architect, your Elvishness, but I would say that the reason for that is the great undead Ziggurat that stands in front of the window", apologized the servant. "What treachery is this?!", shrieked the king, "Who dares construct a hideous abomination such as this outside my royal window?!". "Was it… you, servant?!", he added suspiciously. "Of course not, your Elvishess!", replied the servant quickly, "I am but a humble servant, uncapable of performing such great tasks overnight!". "I shall find the person responsible of this despicable crime!", declared the king in a royal voice and marched out the door, not forgetting to put the greater healing potion in his inventory. "But, your Elvishness!", mumbled the servant, "You have forgotten to wear your royal pants!". "Yes, I may have!", agreed the king, marching royally back into the room, "But we shall not let such petty details stand in our way! Now, go and summon the high council!".
Shortly after, the high council was assembled on top of the highest mountain in Elvenville. "O great Elven king!", spoke one of the Elves and sneezed Elvishly, "Why must we always assemble the council on this high snowy mountain?". "Why, because this is the High Council!", replied the king, "Now, let's get on with the issues of the day!". One of the Elves got up. "Well, those burning meteors continue to rain upon our land as we speak, resulting in many casualties, and terrorizing the remaining citizens...", he began to said, when he was interrupted by the king. "Enough of this foolishness!", demanded the king, "We have matters more grave to discuss than these puny meteors! There is a Ziggurat upon my garden, blocking the view out of my window!". All the Elves of the High Council immediately began to whisper amongst themselves, the fear glowing in their eyes. "A Ziggurat?!", asked one of them faintly. "Something must be done!", agreed another. "But.. the meteors.. casualties.. fire raging across the plains..", mumbled the first Elf. "Well someone better arrange their priorities straightened up...", mocked one of the Elves. "Yeah, you're always complaining about your poor little citizens...", growled the king, "O, our poor citizens are starving, struggling with the plague, being eaten by Ogres and Centaurs... can you not see that the crisis which we are facing here is greater than any crisis we have even known?".
For a long time, the king and his High Council sat and discussed the problem rationally, trying to figure out the best solution:
-"I believe the answer lies within.. cheese"
-"No, it doesn't"
-"Yes it does"
-"No it doesn't"
-"Alright then! Fish!"
-"What fish?!"
-"This fish!"
-"That's no fish, it is your sword!"
-"It could be a fish"
-"And even then it would not help us in this crisis!"
-"Very well. So I suggest that we run up to their door, ring the bell, and run away"
-"Nonsense, we Elves run away from nothing!"
-"Alright, then we will run around!"
"Silence!", screamed the king, "We need a real solution here, not a lunch of cheese and fish!". "May I suggest a solution, your Elvishness?", asked one of the Elves. "Yes you may", muttered the king, "As long as it involves neither cheese nor fish...". "Thank you, your Elvishness", replied the Elf, "My idea is as follows: we need to find a hero! A bold hero! One that is both brave and witted, not to mention.. dispensable!". "You don't mean…", whispered another Elf in horror. "Yes!", continued the first Elf, "We must summon… Sir Magis the Blue!". "Then so it shall be!", ordered the king, "Bring forth the Elvish messanger!". One of the Elves quickly put an Elvish Messanger sign around his neck.
"Here I am, your Elvishness!", he said.
"Excellent!", replied the king, "Go immediately to the village and fetch us Sir Magis the Blue! You can probably find him roaming about the nearby forests".
"Right away, your Elvishness!", saluted the messanger and started down the mountain.
"Messanger!", screamed the king, "We have a national crisis at hand, and you take the long way off the mountain?!".
"But, your Elvishness", hesitated the messanger, "The only other way down is off this 2500 meters high cliff, which hangs right above the Valley Of Really Sharp Rocks!".
"Sharp rocks?!", cried the king, "Are you going to let something like a bunch of rocks sharp enough to cut you in half delay an errand as important as this?!".
"But, your Elvishness", muttered the messanger again, "There are said to be dragons in that valley to eat all who might survive the fall!".
"Dragons, shmagons!", announced the king royally and shoved the messanger off the cliff, "It's a ziggurat we are talking about here!!!".
"But the valley is also inhabited by mean Elf-eating level 8 creeps!", echoed the messanger's voice and faded as he dropped like an Elvish rock from the cliff.
Magis was roaming about the green forests of Elvenville, when suddenly he heard a scream. "Alas!", declared Magis, "A damsel in distress! I better rescue her from whichever unfortunate fate has come upon her!". Swiftly hurried Magis towards the damsel in distress. "Hmmm...", spoke Magis to the readers, "It seems as if this scream is coming from the Valley of Really Sharp Rocks!".
As Magis arrived at the Valley of Really Sharp Rocks, he noticed a large dragon chewing on something, which could very well have been a damsel in distress. "Sir Magis to the rescue!", he announced Elvishly and charged towards the beast.
"Round 1", declared an unknown voice, and the battle began. The dragon stared threateningly at Magis, smoke coming out of his nostrils. "For glory!!!", screamed Magis his traditional warcry, and quickly disposed of the dragon's unnecessary head and limbs. The nearly-digested messanger rolled out of the dragon's mouth.
"Thank you, Magis!", he coughed, "I have been searching for you!".
"What?", exclaimed Magis, "You are no damsel in distress! Begone, nasty impostor!".
"Wait, Magis!", cried the messanger, "I have a message for you from the Elven king!".
"The Elven king?", replied Magis in shock.
"Yes, the Elven king!", repeated the messanger dramatically, "He requested that you come at once to the meeting place of the High Council!".
"What is it about?", asked Magis suspiciously.
"It is a matter of national security!", emphasized the messanger, "All I am allowed to reveal is that it is related to a ziggurat, and the king".
"A ziggurat?", pondered Magis, "That does not sound so important!".
"Doesn't it?", gasped the messanger, "Well, it might also involve... a flying sheep!".
"A flying sheep?!", recoiled Magis, "Well why didn't you say so? There is no time to waste!".
"My mission... complete, at long last...", said the messanger and collapsed onto the dusty floor.
Magis looked at the messanger. "He was a fine Elf", he said, "And he died bravely. But now I must hurry to meet the king, and learn more of the perilous quest that lies ahead!".
"I'm not dead!", shouted the messanger, but Magis was already on his way to the top of the mountain.
Magis reached the top of the mountain. "Ooh, Elves!", he said enthusiastically.
"Yes, High Elves", agreed the king, "High Council Elves even!".
"Why are so excited anyway?", wondered one of the council Elves aloud. "Well", explained Magis, "You're all Elves! Elves own!".
The council Elf handed Magis a small mirror. "Ooh, an Elf!", exclaimed Magis in surprise, "Can I keep this?".
"There is no time for this nonsense!", argued the king, "We have a national crisis to take care of!".
"Oh right", Said Magis, "The sheep issue... Worry not, I shall take care of those nasty creatures!".
"Sheep?! Are you insane?!", replied the king with a bewildered look, "This matter is hardly that fuzzy! This is about a ziggurat, young Elf, and we must not undervalue the danger which lies within it!".
"A ziggurat?", cried Magis, "Why, this is far worse than I ever suspected! What's wrong with this ziggurat, is it bleeding?".
"Bleeding? Have you gone insane?", roared the king, "The bloody thing is blocking the view out of my window, and it is up to you to get rid of it A.S.A.B!".
"Don't you mean A.S.A.P, your Elvishness?", wondered Magis aloud.
"Argh, it can be N.F.L for all I care!", screamed the king in despair, "Just get on with your quest already!".
Magis stood silently for a minute with confusion in his eyes. "Well then", he declared eventually, "Whether it is a sheep, or a ziggurat which may or may not be bleeding, I shall get rid of it at once!".
Magis started down the mountain. "Don't you think you should take the short way down?", suggested the king and began approaching him.
"Uh... perhaps on another day", muttered Magis and fled down the long way.
Thus began the heroic quest of the great heroic hero, Sir Magis the Blue.
All names and incidents appearing in this story are fictional. Names and incidents that resemble real names or incidents are either coincidental or were used on purpose.