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Tim Cognito found it difficult to pass the time as their companions slept. The sleepless knight was accustomed to sleepless nights, for they were used to being alone and rarely needed to stop for a break. It took all their might not to pace around and disturb the huntscrabby resting in the nest Tim had made for the little guy in their innards.
Tim instead took to sorting through their inventory. Tim unhinged their mouth plate, and reached an armoured hand deep into their helmet, feeling around. The best part about being hollow was that rather than lugging a big old body around, Tim was practically their very own backpack.
Tim’s fingers gripped around the stinky gem bestowed onto them by the grateful Spaghettians. “Nah, I’ll leave that where it is for now,” the knight muttered before continuing their stocktake.
Next, Tim grasped a wooden box, no bigger than a lunchbox. It was shaped like a treasure chest and bound with a strap of leather. Imprinted upon the strap was a depiction of a clock. A fishy scent permeated the item.
“By the thunder of Armadeus’ broom!” Tim breathed. “Why is everything I own so smelly?”
Tim set the box to one side, busied themselves once more, and pulled from within them the Communication Crystal. Tim inhaled sharply. “Well, I suppose I do need some help.”
Turning the crystal in their hand until it glowed a powerful blue. Tim clasped the gem in their hands, trying to contain the ribbons of blue light breaking forth and waking their compadres. Glancing around, Tim confirmed they were the only conscious member of the group, before allowing the gem to float upwards and begin its task.
The knight waited for a dial tone, but none came.
“Oi, I haven’t got all day!” came a squeak somewhere near Tim’s ankle. Tim looked down to see a small goblin, tapping its feet impatiently next to them.
“So, what’s ya message then?” the goblin asked.
Chapter 17: Taking Stock (Alternatively: Cakes on the Riddle)
If you want to know more about something mentioned in the story (e.g. a creature, place or person) go to the Lore of the Land:
If you want information about our hero’s characteristics and inventory at the start of this chapter go here and scroll to the relevant chapter:
“What do you want?” Tim asked.
“You serious, mate? I came all the way here, do you not know how this works?”
“Of course I do, but just to check that you do, why don’t you tell me how it works!”
The goblin sighed. “Listen here, ‘cause I’m only going to say this once. What yer holdin’ in yer hand is a bonafide, toppa tha range, GGL Communication Crystal. If that were a gift, someone clearly likes you!” The goblin here raised his eyebrows to a comical effect. “I’m here as your personal message taker, representing the Goblin Guild of Luddites Incorporated!”
“Luddites?”
“Yep, these newfangled magics are all convenience but have none o’ the ‘eart. So we GGL representatives traverse the land to deliver yer messages with a smile, or at least a not-so-aggressive scowl.”
The goblin shifted his weight, leaning in before continuing. “Naturally, these services come at a premium. Bespoke message deliveries ain’t something we can just give away. Now if I’ve got this right, yer sending this message to The Great Spaghetti Bowl?”
Tim nodded.
“Great, that’ll be five gold pieces.”
“Five gold pieces! You’re dreaming.”
The goblin raised his voice. “I wouldn’t haggle if I were you, mate. Last guy who tried to negotiate with me, well let’s just say he’s in no fit state-”
“Shhhhh,” Tim interrupted, preventing the goblin from waking their friends. “Alright, alright. Take your money.”
Tim promptly handed over the gold. “Now how do we do this?”
“Well it’s very simple, you look at me, ya rattle off whatever ya gots ta say and I repeat it to the recipient. It’s a user-friendly process, served with a smile.” The goblin contorted his face into what would be considered a sneer.
“Okay then, umm, well-” Tim staggered awkwardly, “well, you see, I- I-”
“What’s tha problem?”
“Well, it’s just that,” Tim exhaled, “There’s this lady-”
“Wah-ho, a love letter to an ol’ flame,” the goblin winked, his face distorting. Tim shuddered, wishing the goblin were still smiling. “Way ta go, Casanova! Alright, hit me with it.”
The Knight hesitated before cracking their neck and spritzing breath freshener into their helmet. “Okay then. Umm. Hi there, Kackel.”
Tim coughed and looked down at the goblin. “Wait, let me try again. Take two.”
The knight folded their arms and leaned against the cave wall, purposefully deepening their voice.
“So Kacks, don’t know what’s going on with you, but we’re just - y’know - hanging out here. In a cave. Still questin’.”
Tim cleared their throat once more and shuffled their weight awkwardly. “Yep. So, that’s the update on our end. Ummm, I hope you’re doing ok. And I hope to hear from you soon. Y’know, when you have time. I know you’re probably busy up there.”
Tim shrugged, his false nonchalance beginning to crack away. “Also, if you’ve got any magic advice it would really help us out. Questin’ is just not the same without ya Kackel… I’ve said too much. Okay, bye.”
“Yikes, ya sure you don’t want another take?” the goblin chuckled, before giving a cavalier salute to the knight. As he walked away, he called out, “just jestin’ with ya, kid. Don’t forget to leave a five-star review, the name’s Glorbachev.”
Tim watched the goblin disappear.
What’s the point of this crystal if it doesn’t let me call her direct? thought Tim. They then replayed in their mind the message that was now on its way to Lady Kackel and put their helmet in their armoured hands. Idiot, Tim berated themself.
Voting Time
Kackel sent Tim and the others back on good terms but she must feel a little heartbroken about this casual, feigned-nonchalance-laden message. When she writes back with the new spell what other information should she include:
She’s started hiking again; something about being out in nature is really connecting Kackel with her dreams… andallergies -achoo-
To Tim’s surprise, Socrates was scratching around in their innards. The little huntscrabby had been disturbed by the conversation and was ready to meet the day.
The two sat by the extinguished fire for a while, deep in thought about the Troll Patrol’s riddle.
Before long Matilda awoke.
Soon after Gregory Schreck, their Part-Ogre, Part-Orc, Part-Lawyer companion, woke too.
As Schreck prepared for them a Catacombic delicacy, a warm coffee-like beverage that he jokingly described as de-cave-inated, Eric finally awoke from his slumber.
“It’s about time!” Matilda sniped.
“It’s not my fault,” Eric insisted amidst many yawns, “my circadian rhythm’s all out of whack here. There’s no light.”
“Then why did you always sleep in on the surface too?” Matilda joked at the sleepy man.
“Will you all be quiet?” Tim interrupted, “as far as I’m concerned you’re all lazy.”
“Hey! Just because you’re an animate mind in an inanimate object cursed to stay awake at all times doesn't mean that we should feel guilty.” Matilda clapped back.
“All I’m saying is that this quest would be over by now if I were by myself,” Tim added with all the arrogance of a snowman at the end of winter.
“Well then,” Gregory interrupted the arguers, “that’s great!”
Tim and Matilda turned to face him. Eric had already fallen back asleep.
“This confidence is fantastic, it must mean you’ve solved the riddle!” The Solic-orc-ter stated, raising an eyebrow as if he were cross-examining a witness.
“Well, yes…” the knight said before deflating, “I mean, no, not exactly!”
“Consarn it! You know those trolls will make short work of us if we’ve not got an answer for them.” Schreck exclaimed before adding “I mean, Theodore’s alright but the other two? Let’s just say the last billy goat gruff that met with them was served with a side of collared greens.”
***
On they walked through the tunnel. Gregory carried Eric on his back as the small-statured butcher needed his beauty sleep.
All their heads swirled with possible answers to the riddle. They thought of sticky foxes, moulded phlegm, uncontrolled poxes and random letters of the alphabet.
Tim couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling from the night before. All through the walk they kept looking over their shoulders expecting to see some kind of beastie following behind.
Each time they peered behind them, there was nothing there.
Socrates squeaked.
“What are you talking about?” Matilda asked the inquisitive arachnoid, who promptly squeaked back in reply.
“He wants to know what you’re looking for…” Matilda relayed the message with a serious tone to her voice.
“Oh nothing, just, umm, rotating the old neck,” the darty-eyed knight covered up with quick thinking, “you know, these old things get stuck if you don’t grease them from time to time.”
Here the knight spun their helmet all the way around with exorcistic dexterity, making sure to sneak one more look in the process.
“He also mentioned something else…” Matilda leaned in toward the Huntsgrabby with a serious whisper, “he said you sent a message to Kackel, you sly old dog. What did you say? Did you confess your love? Did you set up a post-quest date?”
“It wasn’t anything like that at all,” Tim protested, “plus it isn’t any of your-”
Here the knight was cut off. The tunnel took a particularly sharp but familiar turn and the group were once again standing before the Troll Patrol.
“Well, look what the septuplets dragged in!” Helen screeched referencing the cave-dwelling critters that eat dirty clothing.
“Have you found an answer to our riddle?” Theodore asked with a kind smile.
“Or is it time to pay the consequences?” Barry asked with his flat voice.
Tim wanted the answer to crawl into their head - in the same manner Socrates was presently rumbling about inside their helmet - but it was no use. They looked at the others in their party. Matilda shrugged, Schreck shook his head contritely, Eric drooled onto Gregory’s shoulder.
They were all at a loss for words.
Voting Time
Soooo, no one got the answer to the riddle correct… BUT the big spin on the contingency wheel meant that everyone is going to be able to sneak through. How will they accomplish that though?
Tim will say that they will pay the tollbut unfortunately,they left their wallet up ahead… convincing the troll patrol to let them through and return with the money… wink wink.
Glorbachev will be back at any moment with some hot-off-the-press Kackel news! Meanwhile, how are we getting past these trolls?
Remember, if you want to be a part of the tale: you can pitch new areas, creatures, characters, and items/spells in the existing threads and see them get added to the Lore of the Land encyclopaedia.
Stay tuned for the next chapter two weeks from now (I mean it, we’ve got something special in the works). Voting closes the day before, comment answers are open until we feel like closing them!
Hey… so this is awkward. We’re still here. We took some time off… mainly because I (Michael) was finishing a short film and submitting it to festivals. Shockingly, somehow that snowballed, and now I’ve finished two short films in the period between this chapter and the last one.
The film is called ‘Hinterborough’ and there’s no where you can see it at the moment (though you can watch a trailer at our website), it was a quarter-finalist in Serbest a Moldovan Film Festival. So if anyone asks… I’m big in Moldova.
The other one that has just been finished in the last few days is called ‘Functional Block Diagrams’ and it looks like this:
In hilarious other news, I tried to get AI bots to solve the riddle and they couldn’t. My favourite thing is that Chat-GPT would come up with an answer like ‘Gum’ and then explain its answer line by line until it got to the last one where it said that you change ‘fox’ to ‘mox’ and then you get gum because they sound alike (They obviously don’t). I then asked how they sound alike and it told me that it was a ‘play on words’ but couldn’t explain how. I then told it that it was wrong and it then suggested ‘Maple Syrup’ again explaining everything adequately before again saying that ‘Maple Syrup’ sounds like ‘mox’.
The revolution is not quite here.
Hey, so last chapter people voted to say they’re spooked because a shadowy figure was looking on at the group and Tim. That has been noted but you might not see mention of it at the moment (unless looking very closely) because it will come into play later.
By the way, we have had no suggestions for the character who told Tim about the quest in riddle form (in the last chapter) so feel free to come up with something or you’ll force us to be creative YIKES!
Now it is worth pointing out that there will be NO new interactive elements next week as the new arc will be interactive in a whole different way.
Your Submission!
Who is this wizened elder? Lost senile septuagenarian in his pyjamas? Master of the art of divination? Lacklustre slam poet?
Comment on this post with a name and general description of who keeps coming forth to prophesise Tim’s future and we’ll add him to The Lore of the Land.
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Chapter 17.