Lord Mundy's Quest

“Oh my heavens! What have I done?”

“Please don’t tell me that’s who I think it is…”

“Oh no, oh no, oh no!”

“For Pete’s sake, Percival, calm down. I mean, yes, you’ve sent an arrow through his skull, so I imagine we won’t be hearing Lord Mundy's voice for a while. But we’re still talking, aren’t we? It can’t be that bad.”

“So wait, can they still see our words? Will they know who’s who or where we are?”

“I don’t see why not. What does a narrator do, anyway? Nothing, if you ask me. I say we change the name of this whole blasted story. ‘Lord Mundy’s Quest’ never sat well with me.”

“I'm sure he did a lot! Narrators are a big deal. My great uncle was a narrator, and he owned his own personal spoon. Granted, he still lived in a hovel... but you don’t just get spoons for doing nothing! They’re expensive.”

“Mate, I’m telling you, narrators don’t do anything. Just like Kings.”

“Shhhh! You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“We’re in the middle of the woods, you donkey. No one else can hear.”

“Well, I heard! And you oughtn’t speak poorly of the King. That’s treasonous.”

“You’re a royal pain in the behind.”

“Oh, oh… be quiet! It’s people like you that are ruining the Kingdom.”

“I’d say it’s people like you—peasants running around the woods, shooting arrows into the skulls of their lords—What do you reckon, Gavin?”

“I think you should leave Percival alone. He’s a dimwit. Now, returning to the topic of narrators, I’m sure they do something. We just need to think.”

“I’m telling you, they don’t do anything. We’re saying whatever we want, and it’s working fine.”

“I’m a big ugly loaf, and I miss my mummy,” said Baldwin, as he broke down in tears.

“Percival, what in the—I did not say that—you did! And I’m not crying.”

“Maybe now you will listen to me!” remarked the noble Percival, wisest peasant in the land.

“He’s narrating, somehow. Say, Percival, how are you doing that, exactly?”

“Yes, Percival. Tell us how you’re narrating.”

“I… I don’t know,” he said in a very truthful and not-false way at all.

“He most certainly knows. Did you hear that drivel? Hey, he's got something! What’s that in your hand, Percival?”

“Get away from me!” the noble Percival shouted nobly.

“There he goes again. Quick! Grab him!”

“Got him! What do you say you open your hand, mate, and show us what you’re up to?”

“No!” cried Percival the Brave bravely.

“Almost… got it… open… oomf! There were go. Say now, what’s this?”

“Is that a… spoon?”

“I’ve never seen a metal spoon before. I’ve only heard of such luxuries through story and song.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Just a moment—I killed Lord Mundy, so that’s my spoon now! Give it back!”

“Ignore Percival. Actually, why don’t you just sit on him? That’ll quiet him down.”

"But my great unc—"

"Good idea."

“Oof!”

“Perfect. Now, where were we? That fancy spoon, eh? What story, er, song were you talking about?”

“I was just saying that I’ve heard about them in stories and songs, is all. Ever heard ‘A Ballad to Thine Metal Spoon’? My mother would sing it to me when I was a wee lad. With loving eyes, I gaze upon—”

“Stop that. No singing. Just tell me how it works.”

“I don’t know. I always thought the nobles just used it to eat their gruel. It does sound lovely, doesn’t it? Just imagine… your own spoon!”

“That’s a nice thought, but obviously these metal spoons are for narrating. If Percival figured it out, surely we can. Isn’t that right, Percival?”

“Oof!”

“Maybe I have to think the words in my head, instead of just saying them,” sed ball dwin

“Hey, did you hear that? ‘Said Baldwin’! Nice one. Or, at least it sounded right. Can I give it a go?”

“Yeah, I’m not too fond of spelling. Or thinking. Here, catch.”

“What shall I say… what shall I say… Ok, here goes: Behold, we have discovered the mighty Narrator’s Spoon of yore!” shouted Gavin, as he held the spoon aloft.

“You’re a natural. Hey Percival, what do you think?”

“Oof! Get off me!”

“Alright, lad. You’re too bony to sit on anyway.”

“I… I think I should have the spoon. Or at least… we should share it.”

“Not a chance, mate.”

“Did I mention my great uncle was a narrator? I’ve heard him talk for hours and hours. I should—”

“No, no, no. Stop right there. Not five minutes ago, you made it seem like I called myself a ‘big ugly loaf’ with that narrating of yours. I don’t trust you.”

“Well, Percival?” ...said Gavin. “Oh, right, the narrating. I’ll try to do that for you both. I keep forgetting,” he also said.

“I’m very sorry. It was… a joke. Yes, a joke!” said Percival.

“And was shooting Lord Mundy another one of your jokes?” said Baldwin.

“No! Of course not!” said Percival. “That was an accident! I loved Lord Mundy. He was a wise man, and a gr— ...well, an ok narrator.”

“But you did shoot an arrow into his skull...” said Baldwin.

“Yes, but that’s not the point!” said Percival.

“I’d say the point is somewhere deep inside Lord Mundy, wouldn’t you, Baldwin?” said Gavin.

“Ho-hooo! He got you, there, mate!” said Baldwin.

"You're sick! Poor Lord Mundy... what have I done..." said Percival.

“Well lads, what’s the plan?” said Baldwin.

“My great uncle would always say that a good narrator describes all the things going on around them so they can follow what’s happening,” said Percival. “Otherwise it’s just voices talking back and forth.”

“Do you mean to tell me that they don’t even know who’s talking if we, well I, don’t narrate?” said Gavin.

“How else would it work?” said Percival.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never thought about it. I’m just a supporting character. I’ve never been a narrator before. Not even an antihero. Never crossed my mind. Seems like a lot of work. And thinking,” said Gavin.

“Ugh. Thinking. No thank you. I’m out, mate. I’m leaving before someone accuses me of killing Lord Mundy,” said Baldwin.

“Wait! Baldwin, hold on!” said Gavin. “We need to stick together. That wasn’t any old lord. It was our narrator. If his story stops, so does ours. But we have his magic narrator's spoon. We must continue ‘Lord Mundy’s Quest’ if we are to survive.”

“With all due respect to Lord Mundy, I do hate that title…” said Percival.

“Ho-hoo! Now that is something we can agree on, my friend!” said Baldwin. “And Gavin, you've made sense to me, too. I'll stay.”

“So it’s settled. Alright lads, let’s narrate!”

“Oh, right… Let’s narrate!” shouted Gavin.