Lady of the Woods

In hindsight it should have taken me a lot less time to find the Lady of the Woods, but, since King Richard had been no help whatsoever in that regard, I didn't recognize the help when it did come.

And it was almost instantaneous, now that I think about it. As soon as I got out of my hiding place and back on a road, I was greeted by butterflies. At first I thought, Cool. A bunch of butterflies. But after two days I started wondering, Why do these danged butterflies keep flying into my face?

Because that was what they were doing. Fluttering against my eyes and tapping against my nose and cheeks as hard as they could. At the beginning of the third day, when I got up from where I'd slept, I noticed they were all sitting on the ground.

Maybe if I move real slow, they'll stay there. Then I noticed something strange. The butterflies seemed to be forming a shape. Wow! What a neat coincidence, I thought. If you look at it a certain way it almost looks like an arrow pointing straight into the woods. Then I realized: That is an arrow pointing straight into the woods! They're trying to lead me to their Queen! I headed into the forest.

After another two days of following the butterflies, I finally saw her. She was sitting on a bridge over a peaceful stream. The sight of her was beyond description, so I'm sending a picture she allowed me to take with my cellphone:

She shimmered like the purest diamond, and her smile was radiant. The butterflies swarmed around her as if frolicking in the presence of bliss itself. And when she spoke to me, her lips did not move, other than to smile even more benevolently. Her voice was projected directly into my mind. It was like warm honey slowly coating my very brain.

:You know, it's one thing to refuse to ask directions. But to ignore them when they're beating you in the face:

"This place is new to me," I said in my defense. "I didn't know butterflies were like little GPS signals."

She laughed in my mind, and the sound was like butterflies fluttering through my synapses. "Ow," I said. "That kinda hurts."

:Sorry, you really are out of your element, aren't you: She reached out a hand. :Here:

I noticed then a ray of light playing along the strand she held in her fingers.

:A lady's thread: she explained. :You'll need it:

I took the pouch from my belt loop and opened it. She gently tucked the thread inside.

"Is that the thread you used to sew that really cool outfit?" I asked.

:It is indeed. But it's not merely a thread. It is a hair from my head. A small portion of my magic lies within that fiber:

My eyes widened, and I looked into the pouch. The hair actually glowed, illuminating the inside of the bag. "Cool," I said.

:Go now, champion. Fair-to-middling Earth needs you: She stood and took her cloak from her shoulders. She wrapped it around her arms and head like a veil, turned in a circle, and for a moment she was camouflaged against the forest background. I blinked involuntarily, and she was gone.

"Hey," I yelled. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

Though my searching eyes never found her again, I heard her voice one last time in my head.

:When the time comes, you'll know what to do:

I looked all around. The Queen was gone, the butterflies were gone, and, once again, I realized I had no idea what I was doing. I also had no idea which direction led out. So I decided to keep moving forward. Over the bridge. Deeper into the forest. I noticed then, on the horizon, a column of black smoke. I heard also the not so distant sounds of battle.

Against my better judgment I headed toward the sound. Destiny, here I come.

To be, or not to be...

After about two days of wandering aimlessly, I saw the castle spires. I also saw that I was going to have to start asking directions if I was going to make this a short adventure like Cletus had promised. (I was beginning to have serious misgivings about that guy.)

Soon I found a well trodden road and followed it all the way up to the castle. Once there, a guard standing by the drawbridge beckoned me in. "The King has been expecting you," he said. "One thing, however. Try not to anger His Majesty. He is not known as King Richard the flare-hearted for naught."

I was ushered into a brightly lit throne room. There was the sound of fanfare which sounded suspiciously like the theme from '2001: A Space Odyssey.' Either that or 'Also Sprach Zarathrustra', by Richard Strauss. Then the guard departed and was replaced by a man who introduced himself as the King's Herald. I was led to a long red carpet.

From across the room came a booming voice. "Whom seeketh an audience with mine royal self?"

The King's Herald announced in a loud voice:

"The champion's name is Crotalus, your Highness." The Herald looked me over. "Weighing an estimated 12 and a half stones and hailing from parts unbeknownst. Shall the King at this time, suffer said champion an audience?"

"He may indeed approacheth the throne," bellowed the King.

"Art thou ready?" the Herald asked me.

"Uh, yeah...I guess so," I said.

"Then let us getteth it on!" The Herald nudged me forward. I would walk the rest of the way alone.

Once I stood before the throne, the King looked down at me and said, "To be or not to be...the man. That is the question. Whether 'tis nobler of the King to cause his foes to suffer the slinging against the ropes and then the outrageous figure-four leg lock, or to break their arms against the turnbuckles, and by opposing, end them. Or to put them in the sleeper hold. To sleep, perchance to dream."

Since I had no idea what he was saying, I said, "Thank you, your Majesty."

"Now then," he said. "Poseth thine request."

"Right. Uh. I think I was supposed to get something from you." What was it that Stanley had said? Then I remembered. "A King's bright glint. That's it."

He nodded. "Approach and I shall bestow it upon thee."

I stepped up to the throne and held open my pouch. King Richard removed a sequin from his royal robe and dropped it into the Crown Royal bag.

Wow that was easy, I thought. Then, to save myself some time, I said, "And I'm supposed to meet the Queen now, I think."

He frowned. "The Lady of the Woods is the only Queen within three days ride."

"But...uh. I figured the Queen would be married to the King. I mean, that's how it's usually done. Right?"

He laughed. "The Nature Lad is indeed not boundeth in wedlock. Nay, this dragon-flying, gold-inlaid chariot riding, handsome son-of-a-catapult exceedeth the capacity of any one woman to satisfyeth."

Though I didn't understand half of what he'd said, I couldn't supress a brief laugh. "Did you just call yourself the Nature Lad?"

He glared. "The King does not cheweth his cabbageth twiceth!"

"What?" Once again, I was flummoxed.

"Getteth thou to the squareth circleth! I would poundeth upon thine face!"

Then I noticed the Herald had hurried to my side. "Better doeth as he saith."

"But I don't know what he saith...uh, said."

"Do not retaliateth," the Herald warned. "He is, after all, a King."

Just then a wrestling ring slowly emerged from a side wall. King Richard bounded from his throne and took off his robe, flinging it in my face. He then wrapped it around my head and dragged me into the ring.

The first blow came while my head was still covered.

"Dang it, that hurt!" I yelled. Though I'm sure the sound was muffled by the robe. "I give up already!"

He hit me again and took the robe from my head.

"Cometh on, thou foul villain!" He chopped me hard across the chest. "Woooo-eth!"

Wooo-eth? I staggered, but didn't fall. The King smiled and climbed atop a turn-buckle.

I noticed then that, beyond the red carpet, the door to the throne room was still open. I scurried from the ring just as he launched himself at me. As he hit the mat, I ran for the door.

I chanced a look back and heard the Herald ask, "Shouldest we pursueth, Your Majesty?"

"Nay, let him be," King Richard said, standing up again. "He withstoodeth the royal chop and hath proven himself a worthy champion." Then he yelled after me, "Godspeed Crotalus! Godspeed!"

*************

I got to the forest and hid myself. I looked in the bag and then back at the castle in disgust.

All that for a lousy sequin. Man I was gonna have a few things to say to Cletus if I ever saw him again.

Another word from the Hobbits

We're about to go jukin' and decided to turn y'all onto some real music. We're heading off for Hiram's Top Hops tonight, since our favorite band, Redneck Gamgee, is playing. They do a mean cover of our favorite song. Enjoy the original.

That is all,
Frito and Samdumb

Surely you jest.

When I came to, the inside of the barn looked like the inside of a barn. No neon sign, no bar, no table or chairs, and no patrons. Just me lying on the dirt staring up at the rafters. So, after much internal debate (which I won't go into, since I obviously lost), I got up and stepped outside.

Immediately my senses were assaulted. Though this was still the world I had left behind, somehow it wasn't. Things were more... well more of what they were always meant to be but had never really been until this very moment. It was like the knob on reality had been cranked to eleven. Colors were more vibrant, scents more pungent, and sounds more distinct. I began to walk in no particular direction.

A short while later I heard it. A jingling, like spare change in baggy pants and a wind chime in the breeze. Then, for the briefest moment, it sounded like a wind chime in baggy pants and spare change in the breeze. Or at least what I thought these things might sound like.

The jingling came closer, until he stepped out of the forest, and I stared him in the face. His was the strangest visage. And after a moment of scrutiny, I realized why. This was the same face I saw in the mirror every morning. Well, except for the black and white patterns marked upon his skin. And his clothing was unlike anything I'd ever and secretly never wanted to wear.

He wore a pirates scarf and a captain's hat. A black T-shirt, with red underneath. He wore bicycle shorts and knee-high stockings; one white, the other black. And his shoes were pointed with bells all a-dangling.

"Who are you?" I managed to whisper.

He laughed. "Stanley," he said. "But you can call me 'the midnight rambler'."

"The midnight rambler?"

"Yeah, sounds cool doesn't it. I used to be a pro-wrestler, and that was my ring name. The Midnight Rambler! Or M-R for short. And mister M-R if you wanted to show due respect. But then everybody started calling me mister mister and, well that was just stupid so I left it all behind and became a professional jester instead."

"And what does a professional jester do?" I dared to ask.

"Oh, you know. Laugh at the King's jokes, provide misdirection in His Majesty's courts to keep foreign ambassadors off kilter, fight against men dressed as bats. That sort of thing." He winked at me. "Oh yeah, and rattle off rhymes that may or may not hold keys to the path ahead."

He had my attention. "Tell me."

"Of course. Now listen close..."

And thus he spoke:

"A stone that greets the wizard's words, a pouch to hide the poison slow, the sound of clown, a king's bright glint, a lady's thread, a knaves lament, an elven spark, a dragon's seal, then bind it all with poet's zeal."

I frowned. "That's it? That makes no sense whatsoever."

He rolled his eyes. "Look, we're practically spoon feeding you these clues. A pouch to hide the poison, a stone that greets...ah dagnabbit! It's the tooth you got in that Crown Royal bag there. Those are the first two lines, for cryin' out loud. I'm telling you what you can expect to get from the folks you encounter along your quest. The talisman that will help you defeat Gollumita."

I slowly realized what he was saying. "Oh. Yeah...stone that greets... that makes sense. I suppose."

"You're not welcome you know! I'm only doing this because Cletus threatened to spit in my hat if I didn't." And then he hopped back into the forest and was gone.

I was about to walk away, when I saw something twinkle on the ground. I bent over and picked it up. It was a bell from the Jester's shoe. I put it into my pouch in case I ran into him again.

Then I resumed my aimless trek as I wondered aloud;

"The sound of clown... now what could that mean?"

First stop: Hiram's

The first place we stopped was ubiquitous to say the least. Or the most. I couldn't be sure, since I didn't remember exactly what the word meant. All I really knew was that I was thirsty.

Thankfully, so was Cletus. "Need me a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster." And so we turned toward a dilapidated tobacco barn. I was reluctant to go in, since I knew what dilapidated meant.

"Uh, Cletus," I said. "This is an old barn. So old it's about to fall over."

"Held up by magic," he said. "Won't fall, not today anyhow."

The door opened and a rotund man in a grey pin-stripe suit beckoned us in.

"Go ahead son, your explanations are in there." Cletus gave me a small push, then followed me in and closed the door behind us.

The place was larger on the inside than on the outside. There was a long bar above which a neon sign proclaimed 'Hiram's Top Hops'. Patrons packed the place, dressed in all manner of attire, while a trio of rejects from the renaissance festival sang 'Safety Dance' and strummed mandolins and a banjo.

The rotund man went to a card table and sat in a folding aluminum chair. Cletus and I joined him. As we settled in a tall, darkly clad figure approached. One word came to mind:

Nazgul.

"Name your poison," the figure said, in a whisper that grated like sandpaper rubbed slowly across your teeth.

"Gargle Blaster," said Cletus.

"Same!" blurted the rotund man.

"Uh," I stammered. "...Same?"

"Three draughts of death, coming up," the creature rasped, before floating away.

I turned to Cletus, "Was that a--"

"Nazgul. Yup. Shame they all ended up waitin' tables here. But you know, weren't nobody else in a thousand years gonna hire 'em. Well, except for Hiram, here."

I blinked. "Huh?"

The rotund man extended a hand. "Hiram Howard, Howaya?"


I shook his hand. "Uh, fine."

"Now let's get to what's next. You're our boy, see? And what you gotta do is complete a quest. Yeah, that's it, a quest!" He cracked his fingers and pulled a deck out of his coat pocket. Shuffled the cards and started dealing.

I couldn't figure out the game, since he said nothing as he dealt only to me.

The first card was a joker. Then a king, a queen, a jack; all of diamonds. I thought I was onto a great hand until he turned up an elf with a bad bowl-cut, followed by a dragon, and finally a toad-faced woman. "Uh, I'm not into that Tarot witchcraft stuff," I said.

"This here's not Tarot, it's Torat." Hiram pronounced it 'toe rat'. "Now pipe down and listen up." He pointed to the joker first. "The Jester, see? That's the first one you gotta run down. He'll give you something to help you on your quest. Then the king, the queen, the knave."

"You mean the jack?"

"Is that what they're callin' it now? I knew a knave named Jack once, but this one here, he's Hector."

"Hector?"

"Hector, knave of diamonds. Everybody knows that." Hiram glanced at Cletus. "You sure this is the One?"

"Yup," said Cletus.

The Nazgul floated back to our table. "Your drinks." He moved them from a tray to our table. "Enjoy."

Cletus downed his greedily. Hiram took a long pull. One eye squinted down and he started chomping from one side of his mouth. "N'gahaahhaahh."

I looked at mine, dubious of the green froth and foul vapors rising from it.

"Good-Gargle-Blasters that's a good Gargle Blaster!" Hiram finally said. "Now where was I? Oh yeah, the knave. Find all three of those, they'll help you out. Then you'll be questioned by the elf, answer correct and he'll help too. Then you're gonna have to deal with the dragon, but don't worry, his deals are on the level. Each of these guys'll give you something to help you conquer the power of the One Key Ring. A talisman or key to victory, if you will. Nyuck, nyuck, nyuck. And after that you should be ready for her." He plopped a meaty finger down on the toad faced woman.

"Gollumita?" I presumed.

"Gollumita," Hiram said. "She's got the One Key Ring, and you're gonna need all nine keys to stop her."

Mentally, I made a quick inventory of all he'd said. "You've only mentioned six people, not counting Gollumita." I looked from Hiram to Cletus. "Unless you guys are giving me something."

Cletus smiled, exposing his brown teeth. He reached in and snatched one out. "Here." He held it out to me.

"Uh, what exactly will I do with that?" I sat there, unwilling to touch it.

"First of all," Hiram said, taking an empty Crown Royal bag from somewhere in his coat. "Put it in here." He held the bag open. Cletus dropped his tooth in. "As for what you'll do with it, you'll know when the time comes."

Hiram passed the bag to me. "From Cletus you got to here, and you got that tooth. I've given you the basics of your quest and this bag. Now get moving. The fate of Fair-to-Middlin' earth hangs in the balance."

He and Cletus stood. I cinched the Crown Royal bag up. "Uh, that's still only eight people. You said there were nine talisman...er, keys."

Hiram smiled. "You can count. Good. You already have the ninth key, in here." He tapped me on the head. "It's the spell that will finally defeat Gollumita and secure the power of the One Key Ring."

"I don't know any spells. Besides, I told you I'm not into witchcraft."

"It aint no incantation," said Cletus. "That's right, I know a few big words. Think of it as a recipe. Or a prayer. A proverb. Something like that. But understand that we can't tell you what it is 'cause we don't know. But rest assured, you know it."

I sighed. "If you don't know it, then how do you know I know it."

"Cause," said Cletus. "You're the One. And the One is the one what knows the spell to undo Gollumita."

"I thought you said it wasn't a spell." I frowned. "Whatever." Then I tied the bag to my belt loop. "So are we ready?"

Cletus shook his head. "Not goin' any further with ya, son. You might see me later, but for now you're on your own."

I turned to Hiram.

He laughed. "I got a speak-easy to run. Speakin' of which, the ingredients to this drink don't come cheap. I'm just a wee bit offended that you didn't even taste it."

"Oh, right. Sorry," I said. I reached down and picked up the drink. Took a tentative sip.

Suddenly my brain felt like it had been smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped around a large gold brick. I felt myself falling as the world went black.

And Now a word from the Hobbits...

Yep, it's us, the hobbits. Frito and Samdumb. We'll be running the show for the time being. As you can see, we've updated the blog using the text messages that Crotalus sends us, and we've somewhat successfully updated the look.

One thing we've been told though, is that if you're using Internet Explorer the graphics don't quite line up, making the little sword up in the corner look like it's broken or something.

To fix this problem, we suggest you stop using that piece of crap browser and switch to Firefox.

That is all,

Frito and Samdumb

A Hint of Things to Come

During that first day, Cletus told me that my blog was being updated by hobbits. So I decided to keep a journal of my adventure by using my cell-phone to text everything that happened and send it to them. (Thus, did I recount the previous blog posts. And I trust that henceforth all my texts will find their way to the blog.) Now with that little piece of explanation out of the way, allow me to proceed:

After another day of walking in a silence that was only interrupted by Cletus either spitting or biting off a mouthful of tobacco, he finally spoke up.

"Listen close, boy, what I'm about to tell you might save your skin."

I leaned in, eager to glean even a shred of what this was all about. "I'm listening," I prodded.

"SPF 50. Never settle for less." He guffawed. I'd read about guffawing, but until now had never actually heard it. I wondered how he kept from choking to death on the wad in his cheek.

I gritted my teeth. "Where are we going? If this is going to be like season three of Lost, I'll turn around right now."

He spat. "Settle down, pardner. I'll tell you all you need to know. First thing is the gold that's been pulled outta that mountain and reforged."

"The One Ring," I said.

"Not quite." He took a bite from the leaves in his fist. "The mold for that was destroyed, to keep it from being reforged. But Saw-Run he don't give up easy. He cast that metal again, just used a little different mold this time."

I hadn't expected that. "So what are we dealing with?"

"Well, first let me say that you was chosen 'cause of that blog title you got."

"A key turning?"

"Exactly. I 'spect it makes you an expert on what we're looking for."

"A key. It's the One Key, we're looking for isn't it!" I was getting excited. "We'll have to wrest it from some Gollumish creature and cast it into the fires of--"

"Hold on there, hoss!" he interrupted. "First of all, we aint tossin' it back in there. He'll just fetch it up again. And second of all it aint no key."

"What is it then?"

"A devious instrument of pure evil. Benign in appearance, but deadly just the same. Not a key, but the next best thing. A key ring."

"A key ring?" I was flummoxed. I had read about being flummoxed, but until this moment had never experienced it firsthand. (I can't adequately describe it, other than to say it's kind of like climbing into the back seat of your friend's car and realizing that it's not his car, but the one parked in front of his car. And he and the rest of your buddies are sitting behind you, laughing their butts off.) I said it again, "A key ring??"

"Yeah, but thankfully it truly is the One Key Ring. He couldn't salvage enough gold to remake the other rings."

"Okay." I tried to get used to the idea. The One Key Ring. "And I'm guessing it's not Gollum we're to take it from."

"Now you're catchin' on. It's his second great, great, great, grand cousin twice removed. And she's a girl. Gollumita."

"Gollumita?"

He spat. "Don't hear too good, do ya son?"

I started to turn around. "I think I'll go back to my family and take back my blog."

He grabbed my arm. "Can't. Fair-to-Middlin' Earth needs you."

"Don't you mean Middle Earth?"

He furrowed his bushy brows at me. "Boy that passed with my great great great grandaddy, Gandalf. This here is Fair-to-Middlin' Earth. Not the Middle, not the Last, not the best, but not the worst either. Fair-to-Middlin'. Get yerself a dictionary if you need to."

My head was spinning, but somehow I had become inexplicably curious. Fair-to-Middlin' Earth. Gollumita. The One Key Ring. I was going to get to the bottom of this.

Cletus smiled as I fell in step beside him again.

The Wizard

He didn't look like a wizard. Not exactly. Oh, there was the beard and wizened visage, but instead of a robe he wore overalls and instead of smoking tobacco in a long stemmed pipe, he chewed (which had partially dyed his white beard a nice shade of brown). His hat was of straw and not the least bit pointy. And instead of a walking staff, he carried a handful of cured tobacco leaves, from which he'd chomp off a bit to reflavor the ever-present wad in his jaw.

"Boy, you about ready?" he asked, by way of introduction.

I stood there with my door and my mouth wide open. Finally I said, "Ready for what?"

He cackled and spat a brown stream on my front porch. "Your destiny, what else?" He turned and started walking.

Compelled to follow, I temporarily closed the door on my former life. "What about my family?" I asked.

"You got a right smart gal there pardner, she'll be fine. Besides, this won't take long."

I caught up with him and asked, "What's your name, anyway?"

He smiled, exposing four or five brown teeth. "Cletus. And that's all you need to know for now."

I followed him down the road.

HELP!!!

Hobbits have taken over my blog! Middle-Earth is upon us. Sauron is reborn, the One-ring reforged. Oh where will this journey lead?