The Knights of Tortall and the Holy Grail
By Caspian Nyghtvision
---------------------------------------------------------------
Disclaimer: Light, pointless, amusing fluffy tripe. Nyghtvision hopes you like it, and urges you to review. Absolutely no calories. Tamora Pierce owns much.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Voices of the Gods appear throughout.
==========================================
Part Six: In Which The Knights Do Not Find the Holy Grail, But a Swarm of Killer Chickens.
===========================================
The Knights of the Vaguely Roundish Table clopped, clattered, and tripped over their own armored feet ("He pushed me!" "Shut UP, Roger..." "Jolly!") as they Quested about aimlessly for the Holy Grail. Needless to say, they weren't having much luck.
Because every good Quest starts out with the heroes traipsing nobly down a road, the intrepid King Jonathan had found them a road to traipse down. As they traipsed, their pages keeping up a steady coconut clatter, the noble knights kept a sharp eye out for the Holy Grail.
Myles, Neal, and Neal's 'pony' Owen were having a jolly time walking on the side of the road, picking through trash that random travelers had thrown there.
"Is this it?" Myles slurred for the sixth time, holding up yet another piece of trash. This time it was a battered cardboard pizza box.
"No, Myles," Raoul said gently, taking it from his hands. "The Holy Grail is said to be cup-shaped. This is a pizza box from Cooper Pizzeria."
"They have jolly good pizzas there!"
"Shush, Owen, you're disturbing the Canon Continuity. And fix your coconuts; it's more of a one-two-THREE beat."
Clop, clop, CLOP. Clop, clop, CLOP. The knights rode on.
"Is this it?" Neal hoped, holding up a paper coffee cup from Maura's Diner.
"Ooh, it's cup-shaped," Myles enthused.
Raoul groaned and went to ride up front with Jon.
After a while the knights came to a fork in the road.
Myles picked it up. "Is this it?"
"No, Myles. Put the fork down. You don't know WHERE it's been."
====================
Divine Realms
====================
The sounds of Mithros groaning in agony were drowned out by the sounds of the other gods snickering and carousing.
All of the deities who were anybody -- and several who weren't -- were clustered around a mirror that they were using to spy on King Jon and the Knights of the Vaguely Roundish Table. The knights were providing some rich entertainment. Popcorn and ambrosia were passed around as the hilarity increased.
The duckmole god was rolling on the floor; the Goddess was making snarky comments; the Green Lady had taken a break from midwifery to laugh her head off. Mynoss was wheezing, the Black God was snorting, Wavewalker was drunk, and the Graveyard Hag was taking bets.
"Four to one odds, Mithros's bladder bursts before they find it."
"He's a god, though. Isn't his bladder immortal?"
"Well then, dearie--" the Hag clacked her dice and grinned, "It's pretty good odds."
"Ooo, look, the old one won't let go of his fork!"
"Think we should provide a little, you know, Divine Assistance?" The Green Lady said compassionately.
"Nah, where would the fun be in that?"
Mithros passed through the room, doubled over and whimpering. "Please, please, can't I use your chamber--"
The reply was unanimous; every deity in the room spoke in unison. "No."
"Go pee against a tree," the wolf god advised.
Mithros almost wailed. "No, I have to do the other-- wait a minute, I'm the big cheese, dammit! Look, do you want to see some mighty and wrathful vengeance-wreaking?"
"You can't kill us; you're not allowed to. I'll tell Mum," Shakith warned.
Most of the others had turned back to watching the knights. Queenclaw the cat goddess was almost throwing a hairball from her hysterical laughter. "Oh, no, right into the branch! Whee-oo!"
"Why did we ever let that silly arrogant Jon boy become King?"
"Well, it's not like there was a lot of choice. It was either him or his crack-headed cousin..."
In the mortal realms, said crack-headed cousin was furiously screaming, "It's in my hair! It's IN my HAIR!" and running around frantically, trying to dislodge the chicken that had got lodged in his helmet.
"Those chickens of yours reproduce quite fast, lady Nyghtvision," the Goddess told the only mortal present. "Why, they're already causing native species to go extinct. And many of my priestesses have complained about the flamingos popping up in unexplainable places. Perhaps I should reccomend that you control your birds better."
Nyghtvision gave her an innocent look. "But it's so much more fun this way."
In the mortal realms, the knights had drawn their weapons and were bravely holding the chickens at bay. Bird after bird bombarded them, squawking viciously. Sharp beaks looked for leverage in thick armor. Sir Kel squealed and went down with a chicken ferociously harrying her throat. The other knights battled fiercely to rescue their wounded comrade. Feathers drifted lazily in the air.
The Goddess raised an eyebrow. "True."
"What are the odds that they make it?" the Black God whispered to the Graveyard Hag.
The Hag grinned wickedly; "Not even an immortal has enough money to back the odds of that."
=======================
The Next Scene
=======================
Roger whimpered as he picked egg yolk out of his beautiful hair. "Stupid chicken."
The knights trekked boldly through a deep forest.
"This is boring."
"No, Mynoss -- Don't!"
"Don't tell me what to do..."
The knights found themselves on a soft, sandy beach by a turquoise sea.
"Ah, now look what you did."
"I'll fix it, I'll fix it..."
The knights found themselves in a vast desert. Sand stretched in all directions, as far as the eye could see.
"What just happened?" King Jon asked meekly.
"Divine Intervention," Alanna said wisely.
"Also known as a Quickie Plot Hole, or Artistic License," Sir Raoul the Brave said quickly before anyone else could. He figured he better get a line in while he could, or Alanna would steal them all.
"So where's Sir Keladry and her squire?"
"Ooops."
===================================================
Sir Keladry the Spontaneously Added Bit-Part and her squire Tobe lay back on the sunny, white sand of the beach. Palm trees rustled overhead. The ocean whispered softly in all its blue-green magnificence.
"Lady? What about the grail?" Tobe asked, putting away her armor.
Kel lazily played with the fine, soft sand. "Eh. Doesn't look like we can do much about the grail, does it? The Plot Hole left us out."
Tobe nodded. "Aye, it looks like the gods forgot about us for a bit. Perhaps you did someth'n offensive to them?"
Sargeant Domitan approached, walking down the beach in a bathing suit with margaritas in his hands. His bathing suit was quite skimpy. The margaritas were big enough to swim in.
Keladry watched him come and promptly forgot whatever response she had planned. "Ah..."
=====================================================
Coming Up Next: Joren's Long Lost Twin-- Dorothy Catalonia from Gundam Wing! And the French Guards Bit
By Caspian Nyghtvision
---------------------------------------------------------------
Disclaimer: Light, pointless, amusing fluffy tripe. Nyghtvision hopes you like it, and urges you to review. Absolutely no calories. Tamora Pierce owns much.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Voices of the Gods appear throughout.
==========================================
Part Six: In Which The Knights Do Not Find the Holy Grail, But a Swarm of Killer Chickens.
===========================================
The Knights of the Vaguely Roundish Table clopped, clattered, and tripped over their own armored feet ("He pushed me!" "Shut UP, Roger..." "Jolly!") as they Quested about aimlessly for the Holy Grail. Needless to say, they weren't having much luck.
Because every good Quest starts out with the heroes traipsing nobly down a road, the intrepid King Jonathan had found them a road to traipse down. As they traipsed, their pages keeping up a steady coconut clatter, the noble knights kept a sharp eye out for the Holy Grail.
Myles, Neal, and Neal's 'pony' Owen were having a jolly time walking on the side of the road, picking through trash that random travelers had thrown there.
"Is this it?" Myles slurred for the sixth time, holding up yet another piece of trash. This time it was a battered cardboard pizza box.
"No, Myles," Raoul said gently, taking it from his hands. "The Holy Grail is said to be cup-shaped. This is a pizza box from Cooper Pizzeria."
"They have jolly good pizzas there!"
"Shush, Owen, you're disturbing the Canon Continuity. And fix your coconuts; it's more of a one-two-THREE beat."
Clop, clop, CLOP. Clop, clop, CLOP. The knights rode on.
"Is this it?" Neal hoped, holding up a paper coffee cup from Maura's Diner.
"Ooh, it's cup-shaped," Myles enthused.
Raoul groaned and went to ride up front with Jon.
After a while the knights came to a fork in the road.
Myles picked it up. "Is this it?"
"No, Myles. Put the fork down. You don't know WHERE it's been."
====================
Divine Realms
====================
The sounds of Mithros groaning in agony were drowned out by the sounds of the other gods snickering and carousing.
All of the deities who were anybody -- and several who weren't -- were clustered around a mirror that they were using to spy on King Jon and the Knights of the Vaguely Roundish Table. The knights were providing some rich entertainment. Popcorn and ambrosia were passed around as the hilarity increased.
The duckmole god was rolling on the floor; the Goddess was making snarky comments; the Green Lady had taken a break from midwifery to laugh her head off. Mynoss was wheezing, the Black God was snorting, Wavewalker was drunk, and the Graveyard Hag was taking bets.
"Four to one odds, Mithros's bladder bursts before they find it."
"He's a god, though. Isn't his bladder immortal?"
"Well then, dearie--" the Hag clacked her dice and grinned, "It's pretty good odds."
"Ooo, look, the old one won't let go of his fork!"
"Think we should provide a little, you know, Divine Assistance?" The Green Lady said compassionately.
"Nah, where would the fun be in that?"
Mithros passed through the room, doubled over and whimpering. "Please, please, can't I use your chamber--"
The reply was unanimous; every deity in the room spoke in unison. "No."
"Go pee against a tree," the wolf god advised.
Mithros almost wailed. "No, I have to do the other-- wait a minute, I'm the big cheese, dammit! Look, do you want to see some mighty and wrathful vengeance-wreaking?"
"You can't kill us; you're not allowed to. I'll tell Mum," Shakith warned.
Most of the others had turned back to watching the knights. Queenclaw the cat goddess was almost throwing a hairball from her hysterical laughter. "Oh, no, right into the branch! Whee-oo!"
"Why did we ever let that silly arrogant Jon boy become King?"
"Well, it's not like there was a lot of choice. It was either him or his crack-headed cousin..."
In the mortal realms, said crack-headed cousin was furiously screaming, "It's in my hair! It's IN my HAIR!" and running around frantically, trying to dislodge the chicken that had got lodged in his helmet.
"Those chickens of yours reproduce quite fast, lady Nyghtvision," the Goddess told the only mortal present. "Why, they're already causing native species to go extinct. And many of my priestesses have complained about the flamingos popping up in unexplainable places. Perhaps I should reccomend that you control your birds better."
Nyghtvision gave her an innocent look. "But it's so much more fun this way."
In the mortal realms, the knights had drawn their weapons and were bravely holding the chickens at bay. Bird after bird bombarded them, squawking viciously. Sharp beaks looked for leverage in thick armor. Sir Kel squealed and went down with a chicken ferociously harrying her throat. The other knights battled fiercely to rescue their wounded comrade. Feathers drifted lazily in the air.
The Goddess raised an eyebrow. "True."
"What are the odds that they make it?" the Black God whispered to the Graveyard Hag.
The Hag grinned wickedly; "Not even an immortal has enough money to back the odds of that."
=======================
The Next Scene
=======================
Roger whimpered as he picked egg yolk out of his beautiful hair. "Stupid chicken."
The knights trekked boldly through a deep forest.
"This is boring."
"No, Mynoss -- Don't!"
"Don't tell me what to do..."
The knights found themselves on a soft, sandy beach by a turquoise sea.
"Ah, now look what you did."
"I'll fix it, I'll fix it..."
The knights found themselves in a vast desert. Sand stretched in all directions, as far as the eye could see.
"What just happened?" King Jon asked meekly.
"Divine Intervention," Alanna said wisely.
"Also known as a Quickie Plot Hole, or Artistic License," Sir Raoul the Brave said quickly before anyone else could. He figured he better get a line in while he could, or Alanna would steal them all.
"So where's Sir Keladry and her squire?"
"Ooops."
===================================================
Sir Keladry the Spontaneously Added Bit-Part and her squire Tobe lay back on the sunny, white sand of the beach. Palm trees rustled overhead. The ocean whispered softly in all its blue-green magnificence.
"Lady? What about the grail?" Tobe asked, putting away her armor.
Kel lazily played with the fine, soft sand. "Eh. Doesn't look like we can do much about the grail, does it? The Plot Hole left us out."
Tobe nodded. "Aye, it looks like the gods forgot about us for a bit. Perhaps you did someth'n offensive to them?"
Sargeant Domitan approached, walking down the beach in a bathing suit with margaritas in his hands. His bathing suit was quite skimpy. The margaritas were big enough to swim in.
Keladry watched him come and promptly forgot whatever response she had planned. "Ah..."
=====================================================
Coming Up Next: Joren's Long Lost Twin-- Dorothy Catalonia from Gundam Wing! And the French Guards Bit