by Ardy
CHAPTER THREE
Javan had been riding his horse through the Northern Forest with Mr. Prickles on his lap when he realized that they were not alone on the path. Javan was not worried about robbers. He was, after all, the greatest warrior in all of Dargod. Nor was he concerned with wild animals, even though there were many in this dark wood, especially at this hour. But he was worried about the Mad Forester.
Tales were told of this villain's exploits throughout all of the known kingdoms. It was rumored that even the massive Northern Giants were wary of him. He was very unpredictable, possessive of his forest, and rumored to be so insane that he made even Mad King Orvan seem tame. Few escaped him, and those that did were never the same. One man, a formidable warrior before entering the forest, came out wearing a frilly violet dress and insisting that everyone call him Suzie. Another became convinced that he had been transformed into a poodle. A third could only utter the name "Bruce" over and over again. These were just three of the many stories of the Mad Forester's victims, each worse than the last.
According to legend, the Forester had once been a very powerful and wise wizard who had slowly gone insane and fled to the Northern Forest where he would capture travelers and do strange and inhuman things to them, the stuff of nightmares. But the Mad Forester had not been heard from in over a decade and even though all travelers were wary of him, most believed that he had either died or moved on. That was why Javan braved the forest when there was a perfectly safe road built around it. The road would take a week to travel, but the path through the woods would only take a day.
Javan, always perfectly aware of his surroundings, even with a screeching chimpanzee on his lap, knew that he was being followed immediately. Hoping that it was either a robber or a large predator that he could easily vanquish, he rode on pretending that he did not know.
After an hour or so he was sure that it was neither a thief nor an animal. If either one had been the case, they would have already attacked. Although Javan was afraid to even consider it, he was becoming convinced that the Mad Forester had finally come out of hiding and had chosen him as his next victim.
When he heard a maniacal chuckle that seemed to come from all directions at once, he was sure. Frightened, he prodded his horse on faster. Even Mr. Prickles seemed tense.
The laugh came again, this time followed by a booming voice that caused the horse to try to buck.
"I see a man on an overgrown donkey," the voice bellowed. "And his only ally is a scrawny monkey! The source of my voice escapes his eye, and very soon this man will die!"
Javan nearly screamed. Mr. Prickles actually did. Javan dug his heels into his horse's side. The horse was more than eager to escape that haunting laughter.
"STOP!" the voice boomed like thunder and the horse obeyed instantly. Javan tried to prod it on, but it would not move. Mr. Prickles began to slap the horse frantically on the back of the head, but that did not work either.
Then, in the path in front, of them a figure emerged. It appeared to be a large walking shadow, seven feet tall, with a pointed black hat and a flowing forest green robe. It walked towards them and came into the moonlight. Javan was face to face with the Mad Forester.
