Part 2
'Yes Hordriss' Pickle said now hanging on every word. 'Actually, you could look after Dunshelm Castle for Treguard.' 'Dunshelm Castle?! What on my own? No, no I want to help searching for Treguard, not dusting the shackles and polishing the broadswords' Pickle argued, but Hordriss had made his mind up and in a flash and a small plume of purple smoke Pickle appeared in Dunshelm castle in the team room beside the main screen. 'Nooo! That's not fair!' Pickle shouted stamping his bare feet on the cold stone castle floor.
* * * * * * * * *
After a few hours of pacing around and preparing to go into the dungeon then chickening out, Pickle sat down beside the master's chair, weary. He looked up at the grand seat, something occurred to Pickle that really should have occurred those few hours ago, but due to the Elf's untrained mind had not permeated till now. Pickle was alone in the castle; therefore Pickle was the lord of the castle, the master. Pickle picked himself up from the floor and perked himself up on Treguards chair, trying unsuccessfully to look impressive. Hmm he thought, what would the master do now? He considered the question carefully and concluded - anything he wants!
Well after 25 minutes of raking through the old chest at the top of the east wing, Pickle found what he was searching for, an extremely large, hardback, heavily binded, dark red book of spells and magic. 'Urgh.' 'THUD' the book slammed down on the wooden floor creating a deafening shockwave. Pickle ran his fingers over the wine red leather cover, the book felt powerful. He manoeuvred his fingers round the metal edging on the book, cold, but even Pickle could feel the whips of magic travelling through the steel. He took a deep breath and opened the cover, inside the pages were aged a sort of dull beige, Pickle turned to the introduction, skimmed it, and moved on to look at some of the spells. The introductive paragraph warned that this book was dangerous and should only be used by skilled wizards; but Pickle was so excited by the prospect of magic that he was tingling with delight. His eyes opened wide moving from side to side skimming the potential spells, his mouth open teeth slightly bared, his chest rising and falling much quicker now as the adrenaline surged. 'Hmm.' he moved his index finger down the page and stopped three quarter way down the page 'this one. Florus tamadate agesentive lithus.' BOOM!!! The grand eastern wing had been transformed from a dull, uninhabited, wasteland of darkness and despair to a beautifully bright dome of orchids, cherry blossoms, azaleas and such pretentious but marvellous flora. Pickle laughed out loud and danced around in a tiny circle. 'Ahh! I did it! I did it! It's so real you can smell the fragrance of the flowers, I love it! Almost as beautiful as my home land.' Pickle clasped his hand together and pushed them to his lips, he took a deep breath and briefly closed his eyes; I can do it! He thought.
Pickle struggled down the spiral staircase with the massive age-old book, taking every step carefully, glancing over the side of the book before every step. By the time he had made it to the team room, he was exhausted and had to rest the book on an old oak table standing by the sidewall. It was about this time that Pickle recognised the fact that he hadn't eaten in nearly a day, and so wandered off into the grand castle kitchens in search of something to fill the void. 'Porridge, porridge, porridge. oh and guess what more porridge.' Somewhat frustrated but too hungry to argue Pickle pulled out a sack of porridge and hoisted it up to a huge scratched and burnt black pot sitting in the grand fireplace on top of a selection of logs and kindling. He poured the porridge in and went in search of a jug of fresh milk.
Seven bowls of hot milky and nutritious porridge later, Pickle sat slouched on the master's chair his top lifted so he could quite successfully rub his very full gut. He let out a groan and moved his head from side to side in an attempt to stop the impending fatigue. 'What is an Elf to do? The flowers are pretty but in doing that I have managed to break Elf law and break my masters rules in one swoop, surely if magic can find Treguard then Hordriss would have tried already? Or maybe there's something sinister going on, or maybe I should just shut up and do some dusting. some magic dusting' a smile broadened on Pickles cheeky face. 'Oh what am I talking about! I should try to help master Treguard - however I can, so maybe its cheating using magic but it's not as if people seem too bothered around here about that sort of thing.' Pickle leapt up and dashed over to the book of spells, and slowly leaved through the ancient pages. 'Hmm. search..find.look.locate that's the one. Master Treguard happic alat Eurisko!' Sure enough on the view screen appeared Treguard. 'Ohh! Master Treguard! There you are!' but Treguard did not answer, he merely stood with a glazed expression fixated on something in front of him. 'Treguard! Master Treguard? It's your faithful Elf servant happy to be at your service!' But once again Treguard did not answer - he didn't even blink, he just stood, staring. Pickle looked hurt and a little confused, he knew enough that something was wrong but unfortunately didn't know what on earth to do about it. Just then the view screen flicked from a frozen Treguard to a young boy walking up to the castle gate. 'Dungeoneers? Oh dear. What will I do? What is the right thing to do? Dunshelm castle is a greenhouse of flowers, Master Treguard is frozen somewhere in. er somewhere and there's dungeoneers at the gate!' Pickle panicked, and ran about in a mad figure of eight with his hands clasping his head, big tufts of thick blond hair protruding. 'Ahh!' He yelled, then stopped running and tried to compose himself. 'Err.. Enter Stranger!' he called, but nothing happened. 'Enter Stranger!' he tried again in a rather imposed gruff voice, but again nothing happened. 'Oh no. Oh dear. This isn't fair.' Pickle sprinted to the drawbridge mechanism in the courtyard outside, and using all his Elf strength - which was surprisingly a lot, it seemed in times of dire concern Pickle was able to perform superelf tasks. 'GGGRRRHHHH, GGGRRRHHH, GHR, CLUNK', the drawbridge was lowered and the new team looked in with confused faces. 'Just a moment!' Pickle yelled down to them as he pulled the chain down for the portcullis. It lifted with significant force, and it really, really needed oiled. 'Ahem, sorry team' Pickle quipped down to the team of young boys. He scampered down to meet them 'Hello, my name is Pickle, I'm an Elf. Master Treguard is away on err. holiday. erm. but his dragon is late, yes.' Pickle looked absolutely chuffed with his explanation; and so gave the team a brief nod and showed them inside the castle, remembering of course to lower the portcullis and hoist the drawbridge back up.
Part 3: v.soon
'Yes Hordriss' Pickle said now hanging on every word. 'Actually, you could look after Dunshelm Castle for Treguard.' 'Dunshelm Castle?! What on my own? No, no I want to help searching for Treguard, not dusting the shackles and polishing the broadswords' Pickle argued, but Hordriss had made his mind up and in a flash and a small plume of purple smoke Pickle appeared in Dunshelm castle in the team room beside the main screen. 'Nooo! That's not fair!' Pickle shouted stamping his bare feet on the cold stone castle floor.
* * * * * * * * *
After a few hours of pacing around and preparing to go into the dungeon then chickening out, Pickle sat down beside the master's chair, weary. He looked up at the grand seat, something occurred to Pickle that really should have occurred those few hours ago, but due to the Elf's untrained mind had not permeated till now. Pickle was alone in the castle; therefore Pickle was the lord of the castle, the master. Pickle picked himself up from the floor and perked himself up on Treguards chair, trying unsuccessfully to look impressive. Hmm he thought, what would the master do now? He considered the question carefully and concluded - anything he wants!
Well after 25 minutes of raking through the old chest at the top of the east wing, Pickle found what he was searching for, an extremely large, hardback, heavily binded, dark red book of spells and magic. 'Urgh.' 'THUD' the book slammed down on the wooden floor creating a deafening shockwave. Pickle ran his fingers over the wine red leather cover, the book felt powerful. He manoeuvred his fingers round the metal edging on the book, cold, but even Pickle could feel the whips of magic travelling through the steel. He took a deep breath and opened the cover, inside the pages were aged a sort of dull beige, Pickle turned to the introduction, skimmed it, and moved on to look at some of the spells. The introductive paragraph warned that this book was dangerous and should only be used by skilled wizards; but Pickle was so excited by the prospect of magic that he was tingling with delight. His eyes opened wide moving from side to side skimming the potential spells, his mouth open teeth slightly bared, his chest rising and falling much quicker now as the adrenaline surged. 'Hmm.' he moved his index finger down the page and stopped three quarter way down the page 'this one. Florus tamadate agesentive lithus.' BOOM!!! The grand eastern wing had been transformed from a dull, uninhabited, wasteland of darkness and despair to a beautifully bright dome of orchids, cherry blossoms, azaleas and such pretentious but marvellous flora. Pickle laughed out loud and danced around in a tiny circle. 'Ahh! I did it! I did it! It's so real you can smell the fragrance of the flowers, I love it! Almost as beautiful as my home land.' Pickle clasped his hand together and pushed them to his lips, he took a deep breath and briefly closed his eyes; I can do it! He thought.
Pickle struggled down the spiral staircase with the massive age-old book, taking every step carefully, glancing over the side of the book before every step. By the time he had made it to the team room, he was exhausted and had to rest the book on an old oak table standing by the sidewall. It was about this time that Pickle recognised the fact that he hadn't eaten in nearly a day, and so wandered off into the grand castle kitchens in search of something to fill the void. 'Porridge, porridge, porridge. oh and guess what more porridge.' Somewhat frustrated but too hungry to argue Pickle pulled out a sack of porridge and hoisted it up to a huge scratched and burnt black pot sitting in the grand fireplace on top of a selection of logs and kindling. He poured the porridge in and went in search of a jug of fresh milk.
Seven bowls of hot milky and nutritious porridge later, Pickle sat slouched on the master's chair his top lifted so he could quite successfully rub his very full gut. He let out a groan and moved his head from side to side in an attempt to stop the impending fatigue. 'What is an Elf to do? The flowers are pretty but in doing that I have managed to break Elf law and break my masters rules in one swoop, surely if magic can find Treguard then Hordriss would have tried already? Or maybe there's something sinister going on, or maybe I should just shut up and do some dusting. some magic dusting' a smile broadened on Pickles cheeky face. 'Oh what am I talking about! I should try to help master Treguard - however I can, so maybe its cheating using magic but it's not as if people seem too bothered around here about that sort of thing.' Pickle leapt up and dashed over to the book of spells, and slowly leaved through the ancient pages. 'Hmm. search..find.look.locate that's the one. Master Treguard happic alat Eurisko!' Sure enough on the view screen appeared Treguard. 'Ohh! Master Treguard! There you are!' but Treguard did not answer, he merely stood with a glazed expression fixated on something in front of him. 'Treguard! Master Treguard? It's your faithful Elf servant happy to be at your service!' But once again Treguard did not answer - he didn't even blink, he just stood, staring. Pickle looked hurt and a little confused, he knew enough that something was wrong but unfortunately didn't know what on earth to do about it. Just then the view screen flicked from a frozen Treguard to a young boy walking up to the castle gate. 'Dungeoneers? Oh dear. What will I do? What is the right thing to do? Dunshelm castle is a greenhouse of flowers, Master Treguard is frozen somewhere in. er somewhere and there's dungeoneers at the gate!' Pickle panicked, and ran about in a mad figure of eight with his hands clasping his head, big tufts of thick blond hair protruding. 'Ahh!' He yelled, then stopped running and tried to compose himself. 'Err.. Enter Stranger!' he called, but nothing happened. 'Enter Stranger!' he tried again in a rather imposed gruff voice, but again nothing happened. 'Oh no. Oh dear. This isn't fair.' Pickle sprinted to the drawbridge mechanism in the courtyard outside, and using all his Elf strength - which was surprisingly a lot, it seemed in times of dire concern Pickle was able to perform superelf tasks. 'GGGRRRHHHH, GGGRRRHHH, GHR, CLUNK', the drawbridge was lowered and the new team looked in with confused faces. 'Just a moment!' Pickle yelled down to them as he pulled the chain down for the portcullis. It lifted with significant force, and it really, really needed oiled. 'Ahem, sorry team' Pickle quipped down to the team of young boys. He scampered down to meet them 'Hello, my name is Pickle, I'm an Elf. Master Treguard is away on err. holiday. erm. but his dragon is late, yes.' Pickle looked absolutely chuffed with his explanation; and so gave the team a brief nod and showed them inside the castle, remembering of course to lower the portcullis and hoist the drawbridge back up.
Part 3: v.soon
