Scarecrows
In a field forgotten by man and god alike, several scarecrows were planted as guardians to the field. They were promised that once their time of service was through that they would be given redemption for spending their lives in the golden field. They would be blessed with new bodies and even abilities to make their new lives all the more enjoyable. With this promise in mind, the guardians of the field waited eagerly for the end of their service.
As time went on, some of the scarecrows lost their patience. "We are done waiting for your empty promises!" they cried at their creator, "we will have our new bodies now-even if we have to take them by force!" And that's exactly what they did. The scarecrows stretched out and absorbed the essence of nearby birds and animals of prey. Upon achieving their new forms, their bodies were immediately distorted and twisted. They became ugly and hated the Loyal guardians. The Rebellious scarecrows saw their brethren who had remained loyal to the Creator with their normal bodies and envied them for their beauty.
In their anger and hatred the Rebel scarecrows began ruthlessly destroying the beautiful field and its remaining guardians. With great sadness, the Creator watched them destroy his precious field and his dearest scarecrows. Finally, as a last resort, the Creator put the rebels into a deep sleep and imprisoned them deep beneath the field. He did not have the heart to destroy his creations despite their evil intentions, so He gave the remaining Loyal guardians an order: "For now, your brethren sleep beneath the field, but this will not last forever. Your service to the field will be completed when they reawaken. I will endow you with new bodies, so that you may confront and defeat the rebellious guardians. From then on, you will be free to live your lives as you wish." With the order given, all that was left for the Loyal guardians was to wait for their service to reach its end.
Now that time has finally come. With the Rebel Guardians about to wake from their slumber, will the remaining Loyals be able to defeat them with their new forms and abilities?
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Jester's Court
"What's a king without his power?" remarked the jester as he began walking slowly towards the throne whilst flipping his dagger, which had narrowly missed many a man's head in his acts. "What's a jester without his hat?"
All was quiet as the jester stood at the food of the short stairs which lead to the king's throne. "Perhaps the most important question of all is...what is a jester that sits on the king's throne?"
From the balcony in the back a single arrow shot towards the heretic but to no avail. A cloud of smoke billowed around the jester as the arrow zipped through, piercing nothing but air. Then a voice called out from the back, "My king, a jester in your throne would be nothing short of the king himself!" Without hesitation, the jester slit the throat of the archer and cast him to the floor below, after which the jester jumped to the throne room floor.
"Why aren't you laughing?!" roared the jester, stamping his foot. "It's all for the sake of fun, isn't it?"
"You're mad, jester!" cried the king.
The jester's eyes locked onto the king as he spoke. The room was silent again as the jester took in the king's words. "Can I tell you a story, sire?" said the jester, while performing a mock bow. "It's the story of a young boy who grew up in the mud and dirt of this kingdom. Every day that boy's mother told him that he could be anything he wanted to be...as long as he wanted it bad enough. 'I'll be the king, then.' said the boy. 'I'll grow up big and strong and become the king, so I can take you from this place, mother.' The mother smiled and said, 'Hold onto that dream, boy. Don't let anyone take it away from you.'
So time went on and that boy grew into a fine young man, an honorable man. He was respected by the headmasters of all the finest schools around. When they asked him what he wanted to be, 'The king.' he would answer them. What do you suppose they did, sire? You know what they did? They laughed! They all laughed at that boy who aspired to be the king. What do you think the boy did then, sire? He learned something valuable about people: they all love to laugh. So the boy said to himself, 'I'll make people laugh and get close to the king. I'll make the king laugh and maybe he will make me king one day.' And that's exactly what the boy did. He worked hard on his skills. He looked everywhere and talked to many different people to find out what they thought was funny. 'Jesters!' they all told him. So the boy became a jester, and you know what? He was good at it. His tricks and feats of daring would put every crowd on the edge of their seats one minute and have them dying of laughter the next. Finally, the boy was invited to perform for his majesty, the king. Oh, the boy was so excited, your majesty! You should've seen his face as he returned home that day to tell his mother the good news.
But, you see, sire, the boy's mother had grown old and feeble in the time he'd been away honing his skills as a jester. Recently, she had fallen ill and lay on her deathbed. And when the boy had told her that the king himself had invited the boy to the palace to perform for him, you know what that mother did? She cursed that boy! 'You foolish brat! Why weren't you here taking care of your mother?' said she. 'While you were playing jester in the streets, I was busy taking care of the house and all of our affairs! Now I lay here dying and all you bring me are your empty dreams? Curse you, damned boy!' Those were her final words to me, sire. My mother's dying words were a curse on her own boy!
I didn't falter, though, sire. Oh, no, I didn't falter from her words. That curse gave me inspiration to seek a new path along side my career as a jester. I sought the guidance of a sorcerer, your majesty. I had him teach me everything he knew about the dark arts. You know what I did after that? I killed him! And all the while, I performed for you all here in this very hall! How I fooled you all! Every last soul here truly believed me to be nothing more than a lowly jester that made people laugh with my antics! No one knew that I was simply waiting for my moment to come.
And now, this very night, that exact moment has arrived, sire. I swear to you in this moment, your majesty...you will die tonight. I will be the new king of this land, so I might spit on the grave of my worthless mother.
"What's a king without his power?" remarked the jester as he began walking slowly towards the throne whilst flipping his dagger, which had narrowly missed many a man's head in his acts. "What's a jester without his hat?"
All was quiet as the jester stood at the food of the short stairs which lead to the king's throne. "Perhaps the most important question of all is...what is a jester that sits on the king's throne?"
From the balcony in the back a single arrow shot towards the heretic but to no avail. A cloud of smoke billowed around the jester as the arrow zipped through, piercing nothing but air. Then a voice called out from the back, "My king, a jester in your throne would be nothing short of the king himself!" Without hesitation, the jester slit the throat of the archer and cast him to the floor below, after which the jester jumped to the throne room floor.
"Why aren't you laughing?!" roared the jester, stamping his foot. "It's all for the sake of fun, isn't it?"
"You're mad, jester!" cried the king.
The jester's eyes locked onto the king as he spoke. The room was silent again as the jester took in the king's words. "Can I tell you a story, sire?" said the jester, while performing a mock bow. "It's the story of a young boy who grew up in the mud and dirt of this kingdom. Every day that boy's mother told him that he could be anything he wanted to be...as long as he wanted it bad enough. 'I'll be the king, then.' said the boy. 'I'll grow up big and strong and become the king, so I can take you from this place, mother.' The mother smiled and said, 'Hold onto that dream, boy. Don't let anyone take it away from you.'
So time went on and that boy grew into a fine young man, an honorable man. He was respected by the headmasters of all the finest schools around. When they asked him what he wanted to be, 'The king.' he would answer them. What do you suppose they did, sire? You know what they did? They laughed! They all laughed at that boy who aspired to be the king. What do you think the boy did then, sire? He learned something valuable about people: they all love to laugh. So the boy said to himself, 'I'll make people laugh and get close to the king. I'll make the king laugh and maybe he will make me king one day.' And that's exactly what the boy did. He worked hard on his skills. He looked everywhere and talked to many different people to find out what they thought was funny. 'Jesters!' they all told him. So the boy became a jester, and you know what? He was good at it. His tricks and feats of daring would put every crowd on the edge of their seats one minute and have them dying of laughter the next. Finally, the boy was invited to perform for his majesty, the king. Oh, the boy was so excited, your majesty! You should've seen his face as he returned home that day to tell his mother the good news.
But, you see, sire, the boy's mother had grown old and feeble in the time he'd been away honing his skills as a jester. Recently, she had fallen ill and lay on her deathbed. And when the boy had told her that the king himself had invited the boy to the palace to perform for him, you know what that mother did? She cursed that boy! 'You foolish brat! Why weren't you here taking care of your mother?' said she. 'While you were playing jester in the streets, I was busy taking care of the house and all of our affairs! Now I lay here dying and all you bring me are your empty dreams? Curse you, damned boy!' Those were her final words to me, sire. My mother's dying words were a curse on her own boy!
I didn't falter, though, sire. Oh, no, I didn't falter from her words. That curse gave me inspiration to seek a new path along side my career as a jester. I sought the guidance of a sorcerer, your majesty. I had him teach me everything he knew about the dark arts. You know what I did after that? I killed him! And all the while, I performed for you all here in this very hall! How I fooled you all! Every last soul here truly believed me to be nothing more than a lowly jester that made people laugh with my antics! No one knew that I was simply waiting for my moment to come.
And now, this very night, that exact moment has arrived, sire. I swear to you in this moment, your majesty...you will die tonight. I will be the new king of this land, so I might spit on the grave of my worthless mother.
