The centaurs approached the man and the cave cautiously, as he was the first living thing they had seen besides the Amish in the great big desert. They hadn’t seen any wombats or flying foxes or kangaroos or duck-billed platypi or tumbleweed anywhere. The only thing in this wasteland, they concluded, was sun and sand. Also, the man could’ve been a mirage. He might even have been a shapeshifter and turned into a giant throwing star or the Michael Jackson Moonwalker robot or a Half-Life II headcrab thingy or Ralph Nader or a Biker Mouse from Mars one of those giant sandworms from Beetlejuice… Ahem. The point is that they were hesitant to meet the toothless old man.
When they did come to the cave entrance barricade, it was the toothless old man who talked first. He wasn’t much to look at. His white hair seemed never to have been shorn, for it reached the barren desert floor (Oddly enough, he didn’t have any facial hair). He was fully barefoot and dressed in grey rags. He had a gnarled-wood cane at his side to support himself with“waiting for all eternity for worthy ones could grow quite tiresome, after all.
“What dost thou seek? What hast thou sought? What will thou find?” he said rather cryptically in a surprisingly high-pitched voice.
“Greetings. I am Magorian of Styjikuhler Forest. We seek the tribe of female centaurs that is said to reside in this region. Can you help us, stranger?” responded Magorian a bit uncomfortably as the old man’s stare was relentlessly fixed on him.
“I will help you if you are deemed worthy. Are ye brave enough to open the Door of Perdition, cross the Nightmare Halls to the Bridge of Woe, travel through the Eighth Pit of Never-ending Fire, traverse the Steaming Cyclones of Doom in order to retrieve for me the Brooch of the Damned, dear boy ?”
“Hells no ” said Magorian. Then he thought, The Savant must’ve been at least one too many RPGs, unwillingly foreshadowing what was going to happen in the chapter later on.
“Good, because you won’t have to do any of that Just get to the end of this cave and back--with adequate proof--and I’ll tell you anything you want.”
Sinistra gave out a sigh of relief as the old man started opening the barricade. She and Magorian proceeded to try and enter the cave until he stopped them.
“Wait I almost forgot ” He cleared his throat and resumed his early Modern English mode. “Before any mortal can enter the Cave of Comparative Decentness, they must answer MINE these questions NINE!”
They just stood there, dumbfounded.
“Er… I don’t get it,” said Sinistra.
“Me neither.”
“C’mon, that’s an obvious Monty Python and the Holy Grail joke ” said the old man. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen that movie.”
All he got were vacant stares.
Cavekeeper sighed. “Young whippersnappers like you don’t know true cinema. You’re probably still hopped up on new-fangled rubbish like ‘Kool-Aid’ or ‘surfing’ or ‘hygiene in medicine’ or ‘the free exchange of ideas’ or ‘opposable thumbs’ and other such nonsense. Ah well. Now I shall test thee with these nine questions. Answer them correctly and I shall allow you to pass. Any one of you can answer. Standard procedure.
“Question 1: What... is your name?”
“Magorian.”
“What... is your quest?”
“To seek a female tribe of centaurs.” Sinistra was glad Magorian answered that one as well.
“What... is your favorite color?”
“The one I created. I call it Ejacutrops.”
“What... is the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?”
After a moment of quiet speculation, Magorian chose to answer, “43 wingbeats per second.” Incredibly, he guessed correctly.
“Alright then. What is the Capital of Assyria?”
“Nineveh,” answered Sinistra.
“Whoa. Didn’t think you’d get that one right. The Assyria question usually stumps anyone who gets past the swallow question. Now I actually have to think of another four questions. Erm… ooh, I know How many muscles are there in the human ear?”
“Six,” answered Sinistra again.
“Er… okay… erm… ooh, I know a good one How many icebergs are there in the world?”
“Approximately 300,000.”
“I don’t even know if that’s right,” realized the old man, “but I’ll assume it is. Alright, let me think of the last question. Ooh, I’ve got the perfect one It’s a riddle; try to solve it
I devour salt and living breath
Stamp out heat and deliver cold
And few who linger escape death
Yet in me live creatures of antiquity
In multitudes I doth destroy
In installments I doth nourish
The great ancient civilizations
Lived next to me to flourish.
I cleavage rock and disperse sand
Metal too will rust and rot
Though precious as I sometimes am,
Live without me one cannot
What am I?”
“Hmm… it destroys and nourishes… it devours salt… and rusts metal? Water,” answered Sinistra yet again.
“Dammit Well, I’m out of questions. In you go.” And he allowed them to enter the Cave of Comparative Decentness.
“What happened to the ninth question?” whispered Magorian.
“Shh… let’s get inside before he catches his mistake.”
It was… well… pretty boring, to say the least. It was just as devoid of life as the desert outside. Nor blind worm nor flying fox could be seen in its crystalline depths. If you could call them depths, seeing as how the cave was actually quite small and not as long as the outside feigned it would be. So they reached a dead end in about fifteen seconds, picked up a shell, and turned about face to leave.
Until, that is, the shell morphed into a gigantic bivalve with protruding eyes and several rows of teeth.
Instantly, the story turned into an RPG with a turn-based battle system.
SHELL-SHOCKER appeared!
[Cue boss battle music from video game of your choice.]
Magorian: That was unexpected.
Sinistra: EEK What the hell is that thing?
Magorian: A boss.
Sinistra: A what?
Magorian: A boss is a big thing you have to fight in video games to proceed with the rest of the game.
Sinistra: How do you know that?
Magorian: Oh, I’m quite well acquainted with video games. I wasn’t the Tekken 2 champion of ’99 for nothing you know.
Sinistra: But this is 1996.
Magorian: Sorry, I keep foreshadowing when I’m not supposed to. Anyway, you see this spotlight shining on me? That means it’s my turn to attack. Attacking lowers the enemy’s HP. If it reaches 0, we win. And usually get some good equipment or item for some reason.
Sinistra: So the… Shell-Shocker… what a stupid name… can’t attack because it isn’t its turn yet? And after your turn ends, it becomes mine, then his?
Magorian: Yep.
Sinistra: Isn’t that a little illogical? I mean, it’s just sitting there, doing nothing, waiting for us to attack it.
Magorian: Shh. Logic is scary. Let’s see what I have in my moves list. I hope I get some mega-gnarly-sounding attacks like Swift Fiery Hand of Death or Divine Flame Blast!
------------------
0 AP Horsekick
15 AP Dropkick
---------------------------
Great. That’s the best The Savant could come up with? Hopefully my stats are good.
-----------------
HP: 1
AP: -12
----------------
What ?? My stats are crap It must be some glitch How can I have negative action points?
Sinistra: What are action points?
Magorian: Points needed to make attacks.
Sinistra: Yes… that looks like a pickle. Oh well, try your best.
Magorian: [sigh] Horsekick.
Shell-Shocker takes no damage. It laughs at your pathetic attempt. In fact, it kills you by looking at you.
Magorian fainted
[spotlight on Sinistra]
Magorian: WHAT ? Someone must have stuck a Gameshark into this fic
Sinistra: Guess it’s my turn.
----------
0 AP: Move That Revives All Party Members, Amplifies Their Stats AND Deals Massive Damage to All Opponents
1 AP: Get a Fruit Smoothie, on the House
------------
HP: Googolplex
AP: Like, infinity
-------------
Sinistra: I use my”
Shell-Shocker instantly faints due to character’s total awesomeness. Item Proof That They Went to the End of the Cave acquired. Sinistra gets 30,000 Exp. Magorian LOSES 3 Exp.
Sinistra: Video games are fun
Magorian: I vow never to touch one again. That match was obviously rigged.
Sinistra: Maybe you just can’t accept that a girl is better than you at something.
Magorian: I had 1 life!
Sinistra: I can’t wait to play Tekken 2 now. [snickers]
[Magorian mumbles as they double back and find the old man.]
Magorian: Here’s your shell. Now tell me where to find what I seek.
Old man: Ooh… shiny…
Magorian: Old man?
Old man: [Whispering to shell] What price will you fetch on the black market, you pretty little thing?
Magorian: [waves his hand over old man’s eyes] Hello?
Old man: [snaps out of it] Oh, yes, sorry- It’s forty-nine paces to your left and eighty paces southeast. Off you go then [He disappears in a plume of flame. Deranged cries of impending riches and fear of shells echo in his wake.]
So, they went forty-nine paces to the left and eighty paces southeast and found in the sand… a leafblower.
Magorian picked it up and proceeded to shake it, as if hoping to hear a female centaur rattling inside. Needless to say, nothing happened.
“What the hell? I don’t want this thing ” Magorian’s frustration peaked to the point where he looked frightening, like a stallion whose central nervous system had been given one too many shocks.
Then, in a rather convenient and random plot twist, Dumbledore Apparated before them, struggling to catch his breath.
“Ma- Magorian There you are. How on Earth did you get to Australia?”
“I walked.”
“What? How could you have possibly”never mind. Listen: a dark wizard named Oigroig has taken my students hostage. He promised he would kill them all unless I bring you back ”
“A dark wizard... named ‘Oigroig?’” asked Sinistra. Then both centaurs let out raucous peels of laughter. “Who in their sane state of being would name their kid Oigroig?”
“Can’t you just use your Jedi mind tricks and vaporize the guy like you always do, Dumbledore?” asked Magorian.
“For the last time, Magorian, I DO NOT HAVE THE FORCE!” screamed Dumbledore so loud the sands rattled.
“Sure looks like the Force to me,” commented Mago.
Indoor voice, Albus, indoor voice. Breath in... and out. Ah. That’s better.
“Apparently,” he intoned, having regained his normal collected voice, “I lose my powers every seventh and eighth chapter of a story that starts with an ‘M.’Aberforth put that curse on me in wizarding kindergarten when he lost a bet on the average life expectancy of capybaras..”
“So, how are we getting there, Headmaster?” asked his former colleague.
“Via portkey, of course.” He produced a worn out old Chocolate Frog card (Elvira). Each stuck out a finger to touch it as Dumbledore counted to three.
“Five…”
“Three,” corrected Magorian
“Right, three… two… one…”
And, with a pop and a violent swirl of magical color that could make Motm proud, they teleported to Hogwarts.