“It’s hard to believe I wipe my ass with magic swords?”
“No, motherfucker,” said Fred. “It’s hard to believe you even know how to wipe your nasty shit cave, motherfucker.”
“Fool sword and the fool who wields it!” Yelled the food troll. “I shall allow you to strike at me once, for free. After that, I shall pulverize you and eat you! Do your worst!”
The food troll stood straight, opened its arms, and stared up at the sky.
Bardulf swung Fred upward diagonally, slicing the monster from his belly button to his neck. The food troll fell backwards. It hit the ground with a mighty thud and a rope of link sausages flew up, pushed from its gut by the impact. The creature shimmered, moving from one form to another. The creature’s death transformed the food troll into a bizarre horn of plenty, endless varieties of food spilling from its ample gut.
"I guess that didn't turn out the way he thought it would, Bardulf! Look at that dead motherfucker. Nothing left of him but cold cuts and blue berries."
Bardulf shuddered at that visual.
The villagers were silent for a moment and then started to cheer Bardulf’s name, hailing him as their hero and promising him a fine dinner of Egg Foo Yung.
Being Daft
Bardulf and his sword woke up early the next day and continued down the path to the cave where the village headmaster assured them they could find the knowme. He had once been a pupil of the headmaster before he turned into a creature so hungry for esoteric knowledge and the minutia of legends he became a pariah in the village. He'd even earned the school nickname 'Daft,' because he prized facts over beliefs.
At the school, the headmaster and his parents assured them the knowme was wise and crafty. He also excelled at math, science, and speed knitting. He was also the subject of ridicule because he was misunderstood and kind of weird.
The knowme’s name was Kevin. His parents missed him. They gave Bardulf some Chicken Satay with Extra Peanut Sauce as a peace offering and asked the barbarian to ask him to come home for the holidays.
“Good thing the cave is as close as they said, Bardulf,” said Fred. “I was worried the Thai food might get weaponized if we had to walk too far.”
“I don’t think the knowme’s parents would try to kill him with spoiled food, Fred.”
“How should we get the little guy to come out of his cave?”
“I’ll put you in the strap across my back, because it looks badass and less threatening. Then I’ll walk in and open the little takeout container with the Thai food. The magic of smell should do the rest.”
“As plans go, that one stinks,” Fred said. “Look, maybe if you got a cheerleader to come along and say she missed him. He was fun and easy to talk to, and she wished he’d come back.”
Bardulf ignored the sword and his fundamentally stupid plan. He set the container down, opened it, while humming the melody to a favored heroic saga.
“Lllll,” trilled a voice in the darkness. “Is that Chicken Satay with Extra Peanut Sauce, by chance?”
“Yes. It is,” Bardulf replied. “It's from your parents and it’s all yours.”
“Oh, boy!” The knowme appeared and devoured the Thai food with delicate alacrity. “My taste mechanoreceptors are tingling with delight! How in the world did you get Chicken Satay with EXTRA Peanut Sauce from my parents? They don’t know anything about the joy of Thai food.”
“They know you, Kevin,” Bardulf said. “And they know what you like.”
“Nom, nom, nom,” replied Kevin as he continued his meal.
“I slew the food troll, so now you can even get pizza back in your village again.”
The knowme stared at him and replied with venom in his voice, “My village. My village. It’s not my village, it’s their village or THE village, but never call it my village again or you won’t get what you want from me. They stopped calling me 'Kevin' and started calling me 'Daft' when my abilities manifested. You want something from me.”
“What makes you think I want something?”
“You’re here,” he replied.
“Fair enough,” Bardulf said. “We’re here to get the Password to enter the Castle Evil.”
“Oh, my. You must be tired of life.”
“No, motherfucker, we’re tired of jackin’ around. Look, I was created specifically to kill the Sorcerer, so I’ve got a motivation to end that motherfucker,” Fred replied, pommel glowing slightly. "You better help us or big stupid here is going to dismember your ass.”
Kevin the knowme’s face grew pale. His mouth opened and tried to form words. It closed again, reopened and noises came out. He shut his mouth, shook his head, and was finally able to form speech.
“Wait, is that a talking sword? How cool is that! Can I see it? What’s its name? Where did you get it? Is it a vorpal sword? Does it have fire or anything? Cool. Cool. Cool. Can I see it?”
Bardulf pulled the sword off his back.
“Fuckity fuck fuck,” the knowme covered his mouth. “I mean ‘golly,’ it’s purple. You’ve got a talking purple sword. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod!”
“That’s right. I’m a talking purple sword named Fred. You best not call me a purple talking sword either, motherfucker. Just tell us how we can get across that ravine.”
Bardulf waited for the knowme to calm down, which took longer than dignity would allow a normal person.
“That sword is a rare magic, Bardulf. Where di—”
“I’m right here, motherfucker, and my name is Fred.”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Kevin said. “Sorry, Fred. It’s just that there aren’t many talking swords and-”
“We all know each other,” Fred said. “So can we please get back to how we get across the ravine so I can kill the goddamn sorcerer?”
Kevin closed his mouth and rubbed his patchy beard.
“Okay, look, a lot of knowmes would say they won’t tell you until they get something they want. I want to know all about you, Fred the Sword and I have questions about the other talking swords,” He paused when he noticed Bardulf had crossed his arms and looked impatient. “But, let me say, I’m not going to do that. I’m going to ask you to come back here and tell me all about magic swords and what it’s like being the Ramekin.”
“How did you know I’m the Ramekin?”
“It’s my job to know these things, Bardulf. You fit all the descriptions,” Kevin said. “That’s why I’m sure you’ll come back and tell me stories. You love to brag.”
“I will come back and tell you stories.”
“If you want to get across the ravine, you must have the secret Password,” the knowme said. “I do not know the Password, but it is said there are only two ways to get it. One is from the tongue of the Sorcerer. The other is by going further into the cave, climbing out on the Ledge of Knowing, and requesting the Vial of Knowledge.”
“I have to spelunk my way to a ledge and then climb out on it? That's where the vial is?”
“Yes.”
“And what do I do with the vial?” Bardulf asked. “Drink it?”
“No,” Kevin replied. “Once you obtain it, you will know the secret Password.”
“What do I do with the vial, Kevin?”
“You keep it,” he said. “Just be sure to leave it in its original packaging or it will lose value. I’ve got a collection of vials, but my favorites are the Knowledge of the Saga of Serenus. It only lasted three scrolls, but it was so popular after it was cancelled, they made an opera about it.”
“I have seen this opera,” said Bardulf. “It was good.”
“Good? Good? Don’t you realize that the-”
“I should get on with my quest,” interrupted Bardulf. “I will be back to tell you stories of our victory over the Sorcerer.”
Bardulf stood and headed further into the depths of the cave before Kevin could continue.
After they had gone into the darkness, Fred spoke up.
“Are you really planning on coming back to talk to him?”
“I’d say count me out, but we don’t know what’s going to happen once we kill that fucking Sorcerer. I might turn into a talking candlestick or some shit.”
“Speaking of candles, it’s awfully dark in here. I should have brought some light.”
“No sweat, B,” replied the sword as it started glowing. “Just tell me when it’s bright enough for you.”
“When,” Bardulf said. He could see the walls of the cavern were covered with shelves full of scrolls, tiny figures representing heroes, and brightly colored painting of heroic deeds. There were also items of esoteric knowledge, such as mathematical descriptions of temporal magic and other arcane topics known only to the knowme kind.
Bardulf knew he had to be careful. Too much exposure to this level of magic can change ordinary people, but from what he had learned of knowmes, it was likely fuel for them.
Soon they arrived at an opening in the cave wall, just inside the cave wall the floor gave way. From the light Fred gave off, Bardulf could see there was a narrow ledge below. He put Fred on his back and carefully lowered himself down to it.
“Look, B, do you have any idea where we’re going?”
“Along the Ledge of Knowing until we find the vial.”
“And this dangerous motherfucking thing we’re on right now, which is more of a tab than a ledge, is the Ledge.”
“That was Kevin said.”
“This alleged motherfucking ledge is the Ledge of Knowledge— oh shit. I think he’s just fucking with us,” Fred said. “And just how are we supposed to get out of here once we got this goddamn vial, anyway? Jump and hope for the best?”
“You sure do worry a lot for an immortal hunk of metal.”
“I don’t want to get stuck at the bottom of a cliff for an Age stuck to your nasty back while your pathetic human flesh rots. That would be some fucking putrid shit, right there.”
The ledge got wider until Bardulf was able to turn around. He crept along the wall, but at least now he could see the gorge in front of him, but there was still no sign of the vial. He continued along the as it got wider and wider, going from ledge to shelf to a full pathway as large as the floor of the main tunnel.
“Look, this is bullshit, Bardulf. Why don’t you use some of that goddamn Ramekin mojo you’re always talkin’ about to get the fucking Vial of Knowledge?”
“Do you see any vials, Fred?”
“No. Look, didn’t brain boy say you should request it?”
“So, what I should just say ‘Oh, pretty please, Vial of Knowledge, please appear and give me what I need to enter Castle Evil’?”
A shimmer appeared in front of Bardulf. It coalesced into a vague image. Soon, it came more into focus. It was a vial of some sort. Bardulf reached out to grab it and found the vial was solid in his hand. At that moment, he knew the Password.
“Yeah,” said Fred, vexation creeping into his voice. “That shit might work. Any other stupid questions, you fearsome fucking barbarian motherfucker?”
Bridge Too Far
“Maybe you’re using that word so much you’ll need some ointment in your tiny loud mouth, Fred.”
“Keep your tiny ointment dispenser away from my mouth, you fat fucker,” Fred replied, his voice strained. “How fucking gross can you fucking get.”
“Dude, take a few breaths,” said Bardulf. He was sure Fred was excited or stressed or something because they were getting close to the sorcerer. “We’ll get there soon and it’ll be a lot easier if you calm down and stopped sounding like Mace.”
The light came up in the cave like an underground dawn. In his experience, that meant it was time to dodge some dragon fire, but in this case the light was different. Looking around, Bardulf saw the same lanterns that were in King Fosdick’s cellar and torture dungeon.
“Yeah,” said the sword. “I can do that. Just a few deep breaths.”
As the light in the cave increased, Fred brought his light down. The landscape transformed, and they were back at the edge of the ravine, looking across at Castle Evil. The drawbridge was shut.
“I suppose we ought to try saying the obvious thing,” said Bardulf. “That how this Adventure seems to work.”
“What, like yell ‘Open up, motherfucker?’”
“That would only be obvious to you, sword.”
“What are you thinking, human?”
Bardulf grunted out a tiny laugh. He put the Vial of Knowledge in his satchel and cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled the secret Password.
“Open, Says Me!”
The drawbridge started to descend. It was red against the white of the castle’s skull and looked like Death was sticking out its tongue. When the bridge came to rest on Bardulf’s side of the ravine, he stepped on and immediately regretted it.
“It’s fucking squishy, Fred,” said Bardulf. “Like I’m stepping on a giant tongue. What kind of person make a bridge look and feel like a giant goddamn tongue?”
“An evil sorcerer?”
“I guess. Let’s hope it doesn’t swallow.”
“Probably the first time you’ve ever said that.”
At the end of the bridge, Bardulf took one step over an even row of white square rocks and immediately slid down a dark hole. He landed on a pile of straw and goo. He didn’t want to know what the goo was, so he rolled off the pile and stood on a stone floor.
“About time, hero.” The voice was music to Bardulf’s ears. It was Astra the Barmaid.
The Ramekin looked around to find the source of the voice, but could only see a woman dressed in a velvet dress with an ermine collar. She had a thin tiara on her head. If she didn’t look like she had been in a filthy dungeon for weeks, she would have been regal. Bardulf recognized her from the painting in Castle Fosdick.
“This is some rescue you’ve invented, Bardulf,”
“Thanks, Queen Prunella, also known as Astra the Barmaid,” Bardulf said, cocking his head to one side and trying to hide his irritation. “What’s that about?”
“Castle life can be so dull,” the queen said as she walked toward him. “I like a change from time to time. I could always say that it’s because I want to stay in touch with the peasants, but really, no. Peasants are such…. peasants.
“As long as I get my reward, I don’t care if you’re pulling a train behind the stables every night.”
Prunella’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t say a thing.
Above them, a door slid open and the Sorcerer looked down at them. His eyes topped with bushy eyebrows and a long, thin black beard framed his face. Atop his black hair was a yellow fez that matched his robe. Both were the same color yellow favored by Mort the Wizard, just not as dusty.
“Pathetic. Here I thought it would be more difficult to capture the great Ramekin, but you’ve proved no more difficult a quarry than a dryad,” the Sorcerer smiled.
“Help me, Bardulf! You’re my only hope!” Drusilla’s disembodied voice cut through the Ramekin’s mind.
“Bah, Your tricks won’t work on me, wizard!” With that, Bardulf threw Fred up at the sorcerer like a javelin. The sword let out a yell as it strove to plunge itself into the foul Sorcerer’s heart. But he stepped aside and the caught the sword by the hilt. “Thanks, Bardulf. You make this easy!”
“Bardulf, get your lame motherfucking ass up here and help me kill the motherfucking motherfucker!” Fred screamed.
“What do you want?” asked Bardulf, menace and impatience tinging his voice.
“Your bones, Ramekin,” he replied with a cackle. “Just your bones.”
The door slide back into place. Queen Prunella yelled as a jaw-like door opened and a huge bipedal monster stepped in and roared. It reached down to grab the queen and missed.
The Ramekin looked around and saw a pile of bones off to his right. He grabbed one that looked long and sturdy enough to be a club and yelled at the monster to draw his attention from Queen Prunella.
The creature turned to Bardulf and reached down, its powerful muscles seeming to drag on its arm, making it move in slow motion. The monster would rely on strength and intimidation to win fights, but it didn’t find that to be a disadvantage. As the creature’s claw reached toward the barbarian, he smashed at an exposed knuckle, drawing a sharp cry of pain from the Sorcerer’s champion.
Bardulf took advantage, jumped and pulled himself up so he was standing on top of the monster’s knee. With a quick and decisive action, he shoved the bone into the creature’s maw. It tried to close its mouth and yelled in pain as the bone pushed up into its palette.
Swinging higher, he pulled out his huge dirk and stabbed at the beast’s eye. It countered by grabbing him and throwing him across the room. His body racked with pain as he smashed into the wall and fell to the ground. Prunella let out a cry, distracting the pea-brained beast, who turned and stalked toward her.
The beast’s back to him, the Ramekin marshaled his strength, retrieved his dirk, and ran up the monster’s back to wrap his legs around the beast’s scaled neck. His blade dove in and out of the behemoth’s neck, as he looked for a vulnerable spot, but coming back only with cries of pain as the monster thrashed to remove the annoyance on its neck. Finally, it reached up and grabbed the barbarian and flung him back into the door the beast entered from.
The creature moved toward him, murder and determination in its eyes. He saw a lever on his side of the door. Bending down, the creature put its head and left arm in to grab the barbarian. Bardulf dodge the hand, scurried over it, grabbed the lever and brought it down.
The gate smashed closed. Bardulf heard a crunch as the monster’s neck broke. It moved no more.
“This way!” he cried to Prunella. She raced to him as he turned to open the smaller door that lead out. It would have been futile if he had tried. There were too many guards on the other side.
The guards took advantage of this and opened the gate. They were armed with swords and strange crossbows. The obvious leader stepped forward.
Fat Barbarian: A Humorous Fantasy Adventure (Fat Barbarian Saga Book 1) Page 16
