Tale of the Divine Ursine
"I hereby charge you, Sir Bear and Squire Cluckphrey, with the most noble and daunting task of... ...taming the evil Wolflords of the highly haunted Crooked Hill!"
Cluckphrey's feathers shook with fear as the wise King decreed his wishes. Sir Bear keept his composure but was no less distressed at the notion.
“As you undoubtedly are aware Sir Bear, the Wolflords to the north have become increasingly bold in the passing months, striking at valuable food shipments that must pass through the Crooked Hills to reach the kingdom. People are beginning to grow desperate in their search for food, even wandering into the Wolf Lords' territory, never to be seen again!” The King was beginning to visibly shake with anger as he spoke of the dastardly fiends.
“What would you have me do my lord?” Sir Bear stated with courage as Cluckphrey turned toward him in utter disdain that his master would accept such a dangerous task, even from the noble King Glenleavale.
“A request simple in words but daunting in action, I’m afraid my fine furred friend.” He paused and turned toward the balcony overlooking the sea of green treetops.
“Find the Wolflords. Have them cease their nefarious deeds or suffer full scale war. I wish not to have it come to that, but I can only be strained so much before I break. Proceed with haste noble Bear.”
Sir Bear nodded solemnly as Cluckphrey’s beak remained agape with shock. The unlikely duo turned to exit the hall of King Glenleavale. As they reached the doorway, the King warned them,
“Be wary Sir Bear and squire Cluckphrey…The Crooked Hills are plagued by the phantoms of wayward souls and sleepless nightmares. Do not let fear overtake you lest ye be forever lost!”
All present in the room could hear the echo of Cluckphrey’s generous gulp.
“We go forth my King with the knowledge that the hope of the Wild Woods rests upon our sturdy shoulders. We shall not falter!” With those words of comfort, Sir Bear and Cluckphrey left the hall of the King, heading toward the north lands.
As they trek northward, the air becomes chiller and the leaves darker, a sign that the Crooked Hills are in close proximity. Cluckphrey has kept his silence thus far, but the foreboding warnings of nature have gotten the best of him as he begins to rattle with nervousness.
“I beseech thee Sir Bear! I know it is not my place for a squire to make requests of his superior, but I must insist we do not undertake this horrible task!”
Sir Bear shoots a look of subdued indignation at the young chicken.
“Do not let the stereotypes of your fowl brethren overtake you young squire! What a lofty goal the King has given you to turn the chickenhearted into a courageous lion! When you joined me you made a promise to uphold what is good and just for the sake of the Wild Woods. Are you planning on leaving the task at hand?”
“No! No of course not! I will follow you to the depths of the most dangerous planes in existence if that is your wish! I am a chicken of honor, yet I feel I must make my feelings known! The Crooked Hills are haunted by specters and phantoms that could strike us dead with a mere glance! Accompanied with the evil Wolflords who WILLINGLY inhabit such a region is disconcerting to say the least. I beg that you at least reconsider this choice. We could help the king in some other way!”
Cluckphrey’s logic is not lost on Sir Bear. Wolflords coupled with frightening ethereal beings is no situation to be taken lightly. Oh how he wishes he didn’t have to make decisions like this and could just curl up next to the fire in his den with a cup of hot cocoa. Yet he is a bear of honor and his currently fearful squire deserves an answer. Sir Bear looks at the path ahead as a wintry air swirls around him. He has made up his mind.
Cluckphrey's feathers shook with fear as the wise King decreed his wishes. Sir Bear keept his composure but was no less distressed at the notion.
“As you undoubtedly are aware Sir Bear, the Wolflords to the north have become increasingly bold in the passing months, striking at valuable food shipments that must pass through the Crooked Hills to reach the kingdom. People are beginning to grow desperate in their search for food, even wandering into the Wolf Lords' territory, never to be seen again!” The King was beginning to visibly shake with anger as he spoke of the dastardly fiends.
“What would you have me do my lord?” Sir Bear stated with courage as Cluckphrey turned toward him in utter disdain that his master would accept such a dangerous task, even from the noble King Glenleavale.
“A request simple in words but daunting in action, I’m afraid my fine furred friend.” He paused and turned toward the balcony overlooking the sea of green treetops.
“Find the Wolflords. Have them cease their nefarious deeds or suffer full scale war. I wish not to have it come to that, but I can only be strained so much before I break. Proceed with haste noble Bear.”
Sir Bear nodded solemnly as Cluckphrey’s beak remained agape with shock. The unlikely duo turned to exit the hall of King Glenleavale. As they reached the doorway, the King warned them,
“Be wary Sir Bear and squire Cluckphrey…The Crooked Hills are plagued by the phantoms of wayward souls and sleepless nightmares. Do not let fear overtake you lest ye be forever lost!”
All present in the room could hear the echo of Cluckphrey’s generous gulp.
“We go forth my King with the knowledge that the hope of the Wild Woods rests upon our sturdy shoulders. We shall not falter!” With those words of comfort, Sir Bear and Cluckphrey left the hall of the King, heading toward the north lands.
**************************************************
As they trek northward, the air becomes chiller and the leaves darker, a sign that the Crooked Hills are in close proximity. Cluckphrey has kept his silence thus far, but the foreboding warnings of nature have gotten the best of him as he begins to rattle with nervousness.
“I beseech thee Sir Bear! I know it is not my place for a squire to make requests of his superior, but I must insist we do not undertake this horrible task!”
Sir Bear shoots a look of subdued indignation at the young chicken.
“Do not let the stereotypes of your fowl brethren overtake you young squire! What a lofty goal the King has given you to turn the chickenhearted into a courageous lion! When you joined me you made a promise to uphold what is good and just for the sake of the Wild Woods. Are you planning on leaving the task at hand?”
“No! No of course not! I will follow you to the depths of the most dangerous planes in existence if that is your wish! I am a chicken of honor, yet I feel I must make my feelings known! The Crooked Hills are haunted by specters and phantoms that could strike us dead with a mere glance! Accompanied with the evil Wolflords who WILLINGLY inhabit such a region is disconcerting to say the least. I beg that you at least reconsider this choice. We could help the king in some other way!”
Cluckphrey’s logic is not lost on Sir Bear. Wolflords coupled with frightening ethereal beings is no situation to be taken lightly. Oh how he wishes he didn’t have to make decisions like this and could just curl up next to the fire in his den with a cup of hot cocoa. Yet he is a bear of honor and his currently fearful squire deserves an answer. Sir Bear looks at the path ahead as a wintry air swirls around him. He has made up his mind.