Read ye here the Chronicles of the Knights of the Quest for Questlandia and their fateful meeting on November the Twenty-first, in the second year of the reign of King Kyle “the Awesome” in The Year of Our Lord Twenty Hundred and Eight.
With heavy heart did King Kyle lament, “Alas, these be dark days for the Knights of Questlandia. T’was not but half a fortnight since we were banishéd from our hallowed headquarters, the cafetorium at Joe Rogan High. The evil Principal Ballstein has rescinded our status as official school club. He doth question the educational value of LARP! ‘Tis verily clear he hath never had to tangle with a Level 12 Cave Troll.”
And LO! Among the knights was there an uproar of laughter and shouts of “Aye!”
King Kyle didst continue, “A pox upon his house! Sir Dwayne, doth think you could employ your powers as a Level 4 Mage to cast a spell of poxiness on Lord Ballstein? What do you mean you don’t have enough Manna? All you do is chant some mock Latin and throw a beanbag at him. That’s the spell! That’s every spell! It’s not rocket science, it’s magic for fuck’s sake!”
Just thence did Sir Josh the Ranger return from deed most dangerous, reconnaissance of their former stronghold. “My liege,” quoth Sir Josh, “Our cherished cafetorium is now under the ruinous rule of the Drama Club for the fell purpose of rehearsing their upcoming production.”
Asked King Kyle, “Can namest thou the play?”
Proclaiméd Sir Josh, “Breakfast Club: The Musical.”
Despite his love for the films of John Hughes and all things Molly Ringwald, the haughty Sir Dwayne didst exclaim eagerness to engage the dreadful Drama Club in combat. “Nay,” did King Kyle sigh, “we shan’t meet them in battle. They have better swords than us. Mayhaps we wouldn’st need worry about such things if someone could just cast the right spell when asked of him!”
And so the noble Knights of the Quest for Questlandia did resign themselves to their new headquarters, Meatman’s Meatery, renowned throughout the land for their Testy Award-winning Chili Cheese Fries.
When didst the lovely serving wench beseech the Knights to order, spoke the kindly King Kyle, “Away with thee, harlot! It is not food for which my knights hunger. Fetch me another free draught of water.”
“I could actually go for the Herky Jerky Dried Meat Platter,” sayeth Sir Dwayne.
“You’ll eat when I see some pox,” decreed the King.
“You’ze orderin’ or not?” spoketh the wench.
Then did I, Sir Scotty, Level 2 Dark Elf and Scribe, make inquiry of the vegetarian menu. But alas, Meatman’s Meatery had none. Ordered I another free water.
Quoth Sir Josh, “Perchance a flagon of ale to slake my royal thirst?”
Doubting the agedness of young Sir Josh and the accuracy of his ID, the wench did make haste for the manager.
And LO! Thrown open were the great double doors of Meatman’s Meatery. In marched an invading army of sweat-clad ogres. The Joe Rogan High Wrestling Team.
Rudely and roughly did the horde traverse past our table. Lacking all decorum and honour did one roguish grunt slam elbow into the head of His Royal Majesty, knocking the Questlandian crown from his noble brow.
“Thou dost forget thyself,” declared King Kyle to the impudent ogre. This ogre then made turn his head to face the bravely quivering king. He was called Buck Langhorn, wrestling team captain. And behold! Next to him was a familiar female face. That of Yolanda. Kyle’s former Queen.
Taken aback was the King that his Queen had found someone new so soon.
Quoth Yolanda, “Buck doesn’t spend all his time with his immature loser friends playing this lame-o r-tard game.”
“But my Queen,” repliedeth King Kyle, “I only embark upon these campaigns for you and for the GLORY OF QUESTLANDIA!”
Unimpressed, the former Queen of Questlandia didst say, “Enough of this pathetic make-believe shit.” Then walked off did she with her burly beau.
Raising high Excalliburus Awesomus, fabled sword of the Kings of Questlandia, Kyle did proclaim to Buck Langhorn, “Thou hast bewitched mine Queen with thine hunkiness. By the Hammer of Hephaestus, I challenge thee!”
A prodigious duel did then proceed. Kyle made many a sword swing and struck many a hit point against the odious ogre.
Questioned Buck, “What the fuck kind of dude fights another dude with a foam sword?”
Then out of Kyle’s hand the sword was ripped. A flurry of punches followed.
“Hey, you can’t do that!” shouted the King Kyle the brave, “You gotta wait your turn to strike again! Clearly thou dost not know N.E.R.O. rules LARP!”
Continue did the punches.
“You can’t – You can’t – Disqualification! I win by disqualification!”
Enter did the manager. And so were the Knights of the Quest for Questlandia and the Joe Rogan High Wrestling Team forever banishéd from Meatman’s Meatery.
Yet still continue did the punches.
Pleaded Kyle, “Loyal knights, a little help here.”
Into the melée threw Dwayne a beanbag, chanting “Infirmus es, furcifer!” It did strike Kyle in the head.
Implored Kyle, “Sir Bobby, Royal Scribe of the Knights of the Quest for—I swear to God, stop writing this all down! It’s embarrassing!”
For posterity’s sake continued I in writing.
When endeth the battle, declared Yolanda, “Oh Buck, you’re so sexy when you beat on the defenseless.”
Off walked the ogre and his queen whilst the noble King Kyle returned his tattered paper crown to his regal brow. With his royal hands he wiped the royal tears from his eyes. With his royal sleeve he wiped the royal snot from his nose.
Inquired Sir Dwayne, “How ‘bout that spellcasting, my liege?”
Replied the kindly King, “Fuck off.”
Here endeth the chapter.
Coming Soon! The intrepid Knights battle their bitter rivals, the Guild of Morningwood, for LARPing rights to Knutledge Playground Park, whilst Sir Dwayne doth learn the true meaning of Kwanzaa. All this in Chapter 2: The Kingless Kingdom!