The strange thing about fate is that it always seems to present itself in the most inconvenient of times. Such as when I fell from great heights, both metaphorically and physically, and fate appeared before me dubbing me dead, yet I arose and overcame. Unfortunately I don’t believe this is a situation I can escape.
It began 17 days ago when I woke up, began my pandiculation and immediately got shot with a dart and fell face first upon the oaken floorboards. Not a brilliant start to a Saturday. I awoke (yet again) that day to the solemn chirping of birds, the luscious flow of the river, and the deafening cry of agony out of my very own cakehole. The previously mentioned cry arose from the fact that a steel edge dagger laid rest on the underside of my abdomen. Once again, not a brilliant start to a Saturday. Or perhaps a Sunday at this point. It may even be a Monday. Nonetheless, pain is present no matter the day.
The source of the affliction came directly from a deformed looking android with oil leaking from every animatronic orifice located on its machinery. Unsurprisingly, with a single disheartened kick from my foot, the creation collapsed to the floor in a begrimed pile of gears and wires. As to why such a shoddy piece of gadgetry was assigned to yours truly, I haven’t the foggiest idea. However one thing I did know for certain was that an escapade was essential for my salvation as upon the organic horizon, a small armada of droid deformities strode towards my current position.
Sensing conflict I darted away from the danger, yet it appeared danger was omnidirectional; to the left of me, a wall of spikes, to the right of me a moat of magma, and behind me a colossal cascade. Alike I touched upon earlier, fate is a cruel persona of whatever twisted being manipulates the constructs of this mortal realm. Or perchance I’m overcomplicating.
Oh what a conundrum I’ve stumbled upon. It appeared the only option not guaranteeing my certain demise was that of the waterfall, so with a final salute to my dispiriting conquest of mortality, I dove face first into the combination of adrenaline and Adam’s ale. Gliding and soaring, no that’s wrong, flailing and failing, I fell like a boulder and landed in the river with an impact that shook Tartarus.
After picking myself up from the bedraggled mess of emotions- I acknowledged the sight ahead of me that struck fear upon me as scary as a toad in the bathtub. The horrifying imagery in front of me was that of a densely packed forest of despair, fright, and cedar. The true terror of the situation was not of the gloomy greenwood laid out in front of me, no, it was that of the understanding that all hope had been lost, and all salvation had fallen to ashes.
Stepping forth towards the armada of timber, I began collecting my emotions together into a bundle of integrity. This was due to the fact that I knew that the path I was about to take would be a treacherous one. Looking back and skywards at the direction from which I came from, I couldn’t help but notice a ‘cheery’ sight. A jaw-dropping 100-foot tall castle laid rest upon the cliff-edge, overlooking the pitiful environment below. The walls of the fortress consisted of a horrifying mix of limestone and obsidian, forging a mighty barrier to all who decide to saunter by. Thankfully, I had no intention of returning to such a dispiriting place, and continued my pilgrimage to salvation.
Strictly northbound, according to my malfunctioning compass conveniently placed upon my personnel, I walked as I began contemplating as to how I came to be in such an inconvenient situation. How did I go from a bog-standard office job to ambling the jade plains of forestry? Nevertheless, I continued forward towards the hope of my humble abode to present itself.
Presumably mere minutes later, as I was walking forth, a voice sounded out across the meadows, deafening my ears and bravery. “Parlus Gisbey is that you?” The odd thing about the scenario I stood in was not that of the sheer volume of the individual’s voice, no. The peculiar aspect was that I was not and had never heard of anyone going by the name of ‘Parlus Gisbey’. So simply enough, after a moment or two I bellowed back a solemn, “No?” to which an awfully comedic response came back, “Ah righto wrong person.”
After such an abnormal encounter, I decided to start jogging, for if I continued at the pace I was already going then more confrontations alike the last may occur. Thankfully my quick thinking and high intellect meant that I could dodge certain death by muttering a single ‘No’, despite the fact that I was in fact Parlus Gisbey. Such a name I had not heard for decades as dire times called for dire decisions and thus a name change became a necessity.
Sadly despite my change in pace, it appeared that I could not go more than 10 minutes without social interactions. Strictly west of me there was a cloaked figure stood as still as a meerkat sensing danger. Alike a meerkat sensing danger, I continued to avoid the figure and funnily enough they did not move a muscle, was it luck or deception? I thought not on the matter.
Regrettably it appeared the situation was indeed deception as after a short 3 minutes of relaxation, (give me a break) the incongruous individual returned with a glare and a sort of ligneous staff held in hand. ‘Oh no a wizard’ I thought mockingly, yet as I clearly ignored his presence, a stark bolt of cerulean lightning struck past my head, giving me a quick static shock. With a look of split fear and disappointment, I darted away, yet as my slender legs strode south, a second bolt came forth, though this time it evidently met its target. I fell to the ground in a gasp of both agony and galvanism as my life force drained, leaving me with a distinct lack of annoyance as a light materialised before me, beckoning my attendance.