I feel like there were two weeks crammed into this week, and I’m shocked to say, I’m having trouble staying awake this morning. And, that’s all I have to say about that.
They stared at her.
“What’s all that supposed to mean?” said Hector.
“Oracles always give cryptic advice. It’s in the bylaws,” she sighed. “It’ll probably all make sense at some point. If you need a map to the Jimnic Mountains, the gnome has one. Cost you 10 gold.”
“Thanks. I guess.” said Marshall. The two stood there, trying to find a reason to stay, or to coax another bit of cryptic, unhelpful advice. None came. So they left, going in search of the gnome and his boat.
“Do people who go on quests get some sort of manual? If we had a manual, would we know how to do the Ritual of Pull-what’s-it, or know where the Mountains of Jimnic are without a map from the gnome? Or do they just always bring gold to buy the map? Maybe there’s some sort of standard adventuring kit that comes with a map, and probably rope, food, and torches. I think it’s clear by our lack of rope that we’re not cut out for this type of thing. Probably time to stop kidding ourselves and quit.”
“I know where the Jimnic Mountains are,” said Marshall.
“You what?” Cried Hector.
“I know where the Jimnic Mountains are,” repeated Marshall. “My mom used to take me, and try to get me to fly.”
Hector looked annoyed. “Why do you bring this up now? We had a perfect out. No adventuring kit, no map, no rope, and done. But, no. You had to have *the* crucial bit of knowledge to keep going. Let’s pretend you didn’t just say that.”
“Well, maybe this other land is better than ours. Maybe we are supposed to live there, on this Magic Mountain, and maybe in that world, I can fly.”
Hector sighed. He looked around. He thought of how far they had gone, and how far they still had to go. He wondered what he’d be doing today if he wasn’t here, and he couldn’t even imagine himself being in the village, much less, what he might be doing. All he knew was that he’d want to be with his friend.”Well, if you want to go, I’ll go. Where are these mountains? But if you tell me you know how to do a ritual on a yellow cushion, I’m going to…”
“I got nothing on the cushion. The mountains are a few days hike north of the river.”
The gnome was not at the boat when they arrived. They waited. When he returned, he had a small stand with T-shirts, hats, postcards, and, of course, maps.
Hector asked if he had any rope. “Of course I do. I only sell it in 50 feet lengths. I knew you had money! All adventurin’ types do.”
Hector shook his head. “Nope. I don’t have a single copper. I just asked as a divertissement.”
They sailed back to the shore, and set out for the Jimnic Mountains, without a plan, a copper or a rope, hoping to find a way to yet another mystical cavern to get to a foreign land where hope lived on wings atop a Magic Mountain.
Apparently, this week, I’m all about words imported from France. Have a great weekend everyone…
divertissement / deh – VER – tess – ma / an entertaining diversion, especially, a short dance sequence used as an interlude.