Chapter 1: T.L.R.I.E.G.C

Chapter 1
Which is told from three different viewpoints and of which the writer's brain has taken a long extended vacation


1.1 Archibald

Archibald Pennington Dempshire was lost. He was a city person and getting himself lost several miles outside the city's walls cost him a wager against his fellow peer. Armed with his trusty umbrella, he wandered around aimlessly like a plucked goose for hours before arriving at a small cottage which belonged to a rouge herbalist from the Orient. Feeling a pang of hunger and a small sense of vertigo, Archibald knocked on the door four times. It should be noted at this point in time that Archibald had a small quirk ever since he was a child and it was the fear of anything divisible by threes.

Archibald then retrieved from his vest his ever trusty timepiece and looked at the time with the seriousness of a great warrior. The clock slowly ticked away and Archibald knew that a minute had passed. Then, another minute passed after the previous minute. Again he noticed another minute passed and another. It was followed by another minute passing. Then after what seemed to be another minute, another minute passed. Then it happened again -- another minute had passed. This went on for several minutes before another minute passed again. And then just before another minute could pass, the door creaked. Then another minute passed. Just before Archibald could count another minute, a small wheeze came from the door which had been suddenly opened as soon as another minute passed.

From the bowels of the house emerged an old man, dressed in red pyjamas and a tartan kerchief wrapped around his head and his hand he held a vessel with pestle which held a brew that was truly pungent. Archibald nearly threw up when he saw the most grotesque spectacle which was perched upon the man's reddish nose. Coughing a little, the little man spat out the betel nut which he chewed which youthful vigorousness, and then with his eyes narrowing as he looked at the young noble he cleared his throat.

"'Hesh?" a croaky voice inquired, "Whassiyohwuan?"

"Whassiyohwuan?"

"Hesh Whassiyohwuan?"

"CAN YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?"

"Sorry," the small man spat out another betel nut, "Betel nut got stuck between my plywood teeth. I said what is you want?"

Archibald indeed now noticed the old man's plywood teeth and was nearly taken back -- by the beautiful sunset which he now noticed. "I was wondering if you know some.."

"Girls? Sure walk down through the marshes make a right turn and..."

"No! no! no!" Archibald turning violet at the prospect adventure, "I am not the kind of man!"

"Are you sure? I can get you some discount. Plus I also sell herbs and lotions with can increase your..."

"STOP IT!" the young noble protested, "For the last time I do not want your bloody potions which would increase my..."

"Intelligence?"

"..."

"What were you thinking boy? You dirty minded pervert! Young men nowadays...tch..."

"I need to get some directions!"

"I told you, through the marshes turn right and you'll get to the Girls' Bread and Breakfast. Madam Sarah Girls owns the place."

"... Gee thanks..."

"Don't mention it. Sure you don't want to buy Mister Ambrosio's Miracle Poultice Concoction? Its fortified with saltpeter... if you know what I mean... young man? now where the hell did he go? Young men today... so impatient... Oh well..."

Archibald now was in the middle of the swamp and there was a sign to prove it, emblazoned in bright black letters: WELCOME TO THE MIDDLE OF THE SWAMP. And just below the bold black letters was a scribble: are you sure your in the right the swamp?

Archibald knew that he had to be lost again and he would have been is not for a passing wagon of gypsies who took him along in exchange for his beloved umbrella, which he had trouble parting with till the gypsies beat the umbrella out of Archibald's senses. After gaining his consciousness and senses back, Archibald found himself just outside the doorstep of Madame Girls Bread and Breakfast. Archibald was amazed that such an establishment was to found inside the swamp, even more amazing was the fact that the whole house was made of sweet candies and cakes propped up by what seemed to be rusting iron bars and old lead pipes. The smoke coming from the sugarcane chimneys reminded him of cotton candy except that cotton candy was pink and the smoke was ebony black, and it smelled of rotting flesh being burned to a crisp inside a crematorium. Archibald had an urge to lick the doors but before he could lick, he noticed that several dead insects lay dead, stuck upon the sweet graveyard of peppermint and praline not to mention a few hairy comestibles. Inside the building, Archibald was greeted by a few drunken Northmen, two cloaked men and an old obese blacksmith.

"Excuse me, but are you the innkeeper?" Archibald asked the ravishing woman with naturally endowed humongous mammary glands at the counter.

"Who sent you?" the woman grabbing poor Archibald's vest by the collar and pinning his head against the the counter while a large and overly sharp butcher knife was held against his neck, "You're one of Randall's minions are you? Nice suit. Well groomed. Damn you dandies!"

"N..o....no...no... I'm a customer! The old man with plywood teeth told me to come here?"

"My husband sent you?" the butcher knife closing in on Archibald's neck.

"Yes! yes! I swear! I'm just a minor noble trying to pass his test when I happen to get lost!"

"What test?"

"The test for the Intrepid Explorer's Gentleman's  Club! Oh please spare me!"

"The Club? Why didn't so say so honey-dumplings!" Sarah hugging Archibald, accidentally choking him with her with incredible bust size. "Why didn't you tell me you were Max's underlings? Honey-Snookums."

"Mmmmhmppphmppppmmmmmmp."

"Sorry honey bunny. Your are one of Max's men?"

"You know Lord Worthington?" the young noble stared in disbelief.

"Oh yes," Sarah purring and blushing, "He used to come here ever now and then when he went hunting for swamp rats, of course that was before I freaked him out."

"Freaked Lord Worthington out?"

"Oh yes, snookums... Old Max may be one of the best explorers out there and a good man too but he is afraid of women getting close to him. I would have forced him to marry me but he got away."

"Really?"

"Old stories hon," Sarah said in as-a-matter-of-fact tone, "I s'ppose you want a room and a hot meal. Not many people get here as fast you do for the test."

"Really?"

"Aye hon. Usually it takes most men at least a week or two to get here. Most of them usually get eaten by the ravenous hamsters back there in the swamp."


1.2 Maximillian

Maximillian was again at the docks, visiting his wife, the only love of his life - the HMS Beautiful Crone. Built entirely from scratch and by Duke of Nautilla's private coffers, the Beautiful Crone held the title of the most advanced Steamship in several continents. Maximillian also devoted a lot of his fortune to the ships well-being, Its exteriors looked grander than any of the Empire's existing ships in service. Its insides were far more extravagant, filled to the brim with trophies, maps and a host of other odd things Maximilian was known to collect when he traveled. Maximillian loved the ship next to himself, and he kissed the ship's golden bow several times much to the astonishment of several onlookers. Maximillian didn't care.

After checking mostly everything inside the ship, Maximillian buttoned up his coat and started to descend upon the flight of stairs. Flight in this case must be taken literally for as he descended, a seemingly innocent yet highly surprising event occurred. This event only happens in theatres and short stories, yet it had to happen by some unforeseen hand. This event that had had to happen involved an innocent efficiently placed banana peel and Maximillian.

Crashing into a pile of well placed boxes filled with rusty metal bolts and nuts, Maximillian for a fraction of a second managed to philosophize about the boxes as he slowly lost his consciousness. The containers were made of hard mahogany and a mixture of oak. The nails used were an amalgamation of copper and lead. The pain was excruciating.

1.3 Anastasia

A high pitched scream emanated from the local bar, which by all sensibilities sounded like a woman much to the chagrin of the man who uttered the ear splitting cry of pain of shock. To the astonishment of the local ruffians and cold blooded thieves and cutthroats, this was not unusual when the Captain was around.

"That is the last time I want to hear you sing that blasted song Aldebert!" the Captain pinching the ear of the poor sailor brandishing a pistol inside the mouth of the poor man. "I grow tired of hearing that song, especially if it is sung in flat! You're turning the damned blasted song into a damnable sea shanty tune you bastard! This is your last warning Aldebert, the next time I hear you singing, whistling or even humming that infernal tune I will personally gut your insides like a badger and feed you to the creatures of the deep."

"Aye, Capt'n!" the poor man mumbled and gritted as his teeth grinded with the metal from the pistol.

"Excellent. No hard feeling Aldebert?" grinned the Captain, holstering the pistol and released the sailor. "Just got mesself a little worked out no thanks to your talentless rendition of that popular tune. Now if you sang like the ship's barber I wouldn't mind you at all. Just to give you and the boys a little something to think about, why don't you ask Mr. Sween E. Thaddeus to sing for us. He gives a much better rendition than the crew anyway of Jo-hannah Nasaa-an Ka-nah. Go on call him."

The poor sailor scampered and scurried as he returned to the airship to fetch the ship's barber who had been land sick for the past few days and adding to his malady he also had too many meat-pies during the annual meat pie contest down south held yearly by a conniving plump woman. Aldebert had to coax poor Mr. Thaddeus up and by the time the two got to the pub, half the bar patrons were bloodied up.

"Cap'n what happened?" inquired Aldebert looking incredulously at the Captain who was now standing in the middle of the pile of unconscious hardened criminals and ruffians.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Thaddeus echoed the Captain's words, his left brow raised at a forty five degree angle coupled with an occasional bilateral twitch equivalent to half of the square of the hypotenuse of his other brow. "If nothing would be equivalent to beating the living daylights of these men is merely nothing then it is. It's a bloody massacre!"

"Aw, c'mon... I was jus' havin' a bit o' fun if you know what I mean." the Captain still grinning like a lunatic asylum escapee. "Its the urge."

"...its the urge." mimicked poor Aldebert who was immediately hit by large beer keg directly at his noggin, causing him to bleed profusely and losing his consciousness.

"Now now Captain! This has gone far enough!" cried poor Mr. Thaddeus turning to the Captain. "Its not proper and lady-like of you Miss Anastasia to beat these poor men. Even if they are thrice your size and even if they are wanted criminals and murderers."

"But.. Thaddeus." the Captain Anastasia pouted angrily at the aged white haired barber who also functioned as her butler.

"As your butler, I say this has gone far enough Miss Anastasia! You just had too much milk to drink tonight! That's it! Its off to bed with you! You have an early sailing tomorrow to transport those goods that your friend asked you to deliver to the Kafiristan. I'll have to clean up your mess again."