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An epic epic fantasy story
IIIII: A study of argonautics

IIIII: A study of argonautics

“Hello everyone! Welcome to the first annual prophecised weapon hunt! And what a way to start, huh? Record attendance!”

The innkeeper who, as it turned out, was also the mayor of Lumbervale, was standing on top of an upturned box. The sun shone brightly down on the green grass hill.

“It is my honour to introduce to you the competitors. Please give them a warm Lumbervale welcome.”

Two dozen were in the audience, all from the local lumber mill. They applauded politely.

The competitors, fourteen including Baladin and Moromir, had been pressed into a small wooden square.

“Baladin! Mormir! The Brigand Aramis!”

Applause gradualy died down as the spectators began to realise what fifteen rounds of applause demanded.

“Athos! Prothos! And, rounding out the suspicious brigands: Dale!”

All four were armed, and as they waved, the other competitors had to dodge out of their way.

“Twig!”

Even as he raised them, the tall, thin man’s arms shook.

“The next competitor is introduced, by request, as the dazzling Tune!”

Tune threw out his arms, and opened his mouth to say something, but the mayor continued.

“The horrifying slaughterer of evil: Skullcrusher Thunderbane!”

The very large woman, taking up a quarter of the square, gave no reaction to the applause.

“And lastly, villagers one through five.”

Applause had been gradually dying down, but the five generally similar lumberjacks received the most of anyone.

“Now, let me explain the rules. The goal is to find the legendary sword Anacrusis, hidden somewhere in the woods of Lumbervale. There are fourteen competitors, and you will be divided into three teams. The first team to return here with the sword, wins. Furthermore, violence is allowed, so long as you do not draw blood (for sponsorship reasons). Also, I have been informed that Moromir has a serious peanut allergy, so they are off limits. If the rules are understood, let us proceed to the team selection.”

Moromir raised his hand.

“Excuse me, miss mayor,” he said, “but how are we supposed to find this weapon?”

“Excellent question. Really, that is entirely up to you.”

“But you know where it is?”

“Well, no. Wouldn’t be much point in making a hunt if I did, would there? Any more questions? Good, let’s move on to the team selection.”

Moromir whispered to Baladin. “Not to worry, master Baladin! Working together, we shall surely find the prophecised sword.”

The mayor continued: “The team leaders will not only be responsible for bringing packed lunches, but will also select their teams. They will be the first three people who signed up for the hunt.”

Moromir raised his hand again.

“Does that mean master Baladin and I will be on separate teams?”

“Correct. Is that a problem?”

“Well, we arrived to this esteemed village in hopes of participating together.”

“Then this is a great opportunity to get to know more people,” said the mayor. “The final team leader is Villager Two. Can all three of you please join me on stage?”

Baladin, Moromir, and Villager Two, a generic male villager, all walked over to the mayor, and gathered around the wooden box she stood on.

“On the stage, gentlemen,” she whispered.

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Baladin sighed. But the sunk cost fallacy pushed him on. The box was small, so Baladin, Moromir and Villager Two had to stand around the mayor and hold hands to ensure that none of them would fall off. In the end, you couldn’t see the short mayor between them.

“The selection works as such: Each team leader will take turns selecting a competitor for their team. Villager Two, representing the home team, will begin, followed by Moromir. You may begin when you are ready.”

Villagers One, Three, Four and Five all seemed confident.

“Then my first pick is… Skullcrusher Thunderbane!”

“What?” cried the other four villagers.

“Miss Thunderbane, please join your team leader!”

Every step the large woman took shook the ground slightly. She walked to Village Two’s third of the box perimeter, stuck her massive spear into the ground, crossed her arms, and stood very still.

“Villager Two, what about the plan?” cried Villager One, a woman with intense eyes.

“Look at her! We don’t need a plan with that war beast (no offense) on our side!”

“Next team leader, please,” said the mayor.

“Then I shall pick Aramis, of the suspicious brigands.”

“Yes!” shouted Aramis. He ran over to Moromis, and raised his hand for a high five. Moromir, holding on to Baladin and Villager Two lest he fall, couldn’t return it, nor did he want to.

“Next leader.”

“Then I’ll take Twig,” said Baladin.

Twig, the very tall and thin man, made the perilous journey over to Baladin.

“Welcome to the team,” said Baladin

Next, Villager Two picked Villager Three, and Moromir (on Aramis’ warm recommendation) picked Athos.

“Tune,” said Baladin.

“A purveyor of quality!” said Tune. “As the hunters say: Game recognizes game.”

Villager Four joined Villager Two, while Porthos joined Moromir.

Still remaining were Villager One, Villager Five, and Dale of the suspicious brigands.

“Well, I hope you’re happy, Villager Two,” said Villager One. “Now the kid will pick me, and you’ll be out our strongest member.”

“Baladin, choose your team member,” said the mayor.

“Oh, it’s so hard to pick. Hey, Villager One, let’s make a deal. Who do you want the most? I’ll pick the other one.”

“Do you want my honest opinion?” asked Villager Two.

“If that’s an option.”

“Then pick Villager One.”

“What?” cried Villager One.

“Sure! I want her.”

“Villager Two, being team leader has changed you,” said Villager One. She joined Tune and Twig.

Villager Five and Dale joined Villager Two and Moromir respectively. The suspiciuos brigands, having already begun seeing Moromir as a father figure, were very happy. So were villagers Two through Five, standing around Skullcrusher Thunderbane. The emotions on Baladin’s team were difficult to sum up in a single sentence. But Baladin smiled.

“The prophecised weapon hunt can now begin,” said the mayor.

“Wait!” cried a voice. Up the hill ran a woman with black, raggedy clothes and short, brown hair. It was Dea, the bean sorceress. “I want to join.”

“It is too late. Entrance closed when the sun passed the mountain that looks like a beaver.”

The sun was long past that mountain. Dea pushed away the three team leaders, and looked at the entrance form held by the mayor.

“Oh look, a dragon,” she said, pointing.

“Where?” said the mayor, looking in the direction. Dea ripped the form and writing quill out of the mayor’s hands and wrote in swift strokes.

“There, my name is actually on the bottom,” she said.

“Why, you are right. Welcome, Xv;. I apologize for forgetting you.”

“No problem,” said Dea. “Just put me on a team, and we can begin.”

“This is quite the conundrum,” said the mayor. “Two teams of five, and one of four, perfectly balanced. If only there was a way to allocate Xv; fairly.”

“Here, use my three-sided coin,” said Dea.

“Brilliant!” said the mayor. “Team leaders, please choose: Heads, tails, or ribcages.”

“Heads,” said Villager Two.

“Tails,” said Aramis.

“Ribcages,” said Baladin.

The mayor balanced the three-sided coin on her finger, and flicked it into the air. It flew far, and she had to pick it up from the grass.

“Sorry about that. Ground don’t count,” she said. She threw again. This time, it landed behind her.

“This coin…” muttered the mayor, bending to pick it up again. But Dea reached out her hand, and the three-sided coin flew into her hand.

“I’ll handle this,” she said, and threw the coin in the air.

It took about 30 seconds before the mayor and Dea could find the coin in the tall grass.

“Ribcages!” declared the mayor. “Xv; will join Baladin’s team. Let me read the teams once again.”

> Team 1: Moromir, Aramis, Athos, Porthos, Dale.

>

> Team 2: Villager Two, Skullcrusher Thunderbane, Villager Three, Villager Four, Villager Five.

>

> Team 3: Baladin, Villager One, Twig, Tune, Xv;.

“Finally," said the mayor. The tension in the air was tangible. "Competitors, are you ready?”

“Yes!” cried Twig and Moromir.

“I can’t hear you. Are you ready?”

“Yes!” cried Twig and Moromir.

“Once again. Are! You! Ready!”

“Yes!” cried Twig, Moromir, and Villager Two.

“The prophecised weapon hunt can now begin!”