Bright was the morning and loud the white gulls¹ as your humble bard snoozed in their private sanctum. The brave adventurer² knocked on the sanctum door and spake thus: “At what hour do we depart upon this quest? I grow concerned that you do not yet stir and the hour grows advanced.”

At which the bard was perturbed, as there were yet two hours until the quest was scheduled to begin, and all matters were already prepared, and seriously, can’t you let a person sleep? [Sorry, slipped out of character there for a moment. As we were.]

And so the bard was awakened, and informed the adventurer that the quest would depart upon the tenth hour of the morning, to which the adventurer replied “I have then time for which I have no purpose: I propose that I return to sleep until the hour comes that we must depart.” At which the bard got the right hump, because that did indeed seem a delightful proposition which they would still be enjoying if the adventurer hadn’t prematurely awakened them.

At last the hour arrived to depart upon the quest, and the companions patiently awaited the arrival of their trusty steed³. And the adventurer spake thus: “at what hour do we depart upon this quest?”, to which the bard replied “verily, at the tenth hour, as I have already vouchsafed to you five times this morning.”⁴

At which moment, as if summoned, the steed arrived, and the adventurer and the bard departed on a long and weary journey. After many days⁵, the companions reached their destination and underwent an adventure which saw blood drawn [mum said “it only took a few moments and I’ve just got a tiny plaster”, as if this was a great surprise to her] and the companions menaced by a hound as round as a barrel. [And when I say “menaced”, what I mean is that I said “what a pretty dog” and she wagged her tail and let me pet her soft, curly ears. She was a darling doggo, but a very fat one, poor thing.]

At last the companions returned home, and the bard sat down to rest and to compose this saga, upon which the adventurer decided to embark on a new quest, taking blade to the grass monster lurking outside their home. With their trusty blade Flymo they approached their quest with courage, but were forced to return to the bard to ask “where do I plug this thing in?”

And there ends our saga, with the bard reclined on their bed wondering how much they want to retrieve the Wispa of Gold treasure they gained in their earlier adventure, and deciding that, for now, it’s not as much as they want to just sit still for five damn minutes!

1. Herring gulls. Seriously noisy, those birds. ↩︎
2. Mum, obviously. ↩︎
3. Aka a bus. ↩︎
4. I didn’t actually say the second bit, of course, but I certainly thought it! ↩︎
5. About 20 minutes, actually, which was longer than it should have been because of Island Roads, the local roadworks contractor whose motto should be “We like it so we’re gonna dig a hole in it”. ↩︎