The Quest

By Rob Harvey
The three compatriots met when the sun was at its highest, words of welcome were exchanged. There was no need to speak at length, they knew why they had been summoned. The rumours had been circulating for weeks, people gathered in small groups, spent many sweeps of the hour looking over charts. The elders, who had attempted quests in bygone days, nodded in approval as the new ones took up the challenge. Finally the word was delivered by the servants of the lords formally known as Consignia. The word said, THE LORDS OF THE ACU CALL UPON THOSE WHO ARE ABLE, GET ON YOUR TRUSTED STEEDS, GO FORTH INTO THE LAND, SEEK OUT THE ONE CALLED GAYDON. IF YOU SUCCEED YOU WILL BE REWARDED WITH RICHES BEYOND YOUR WILDEST DREAMS. The three compatriots exchanged knowing looks, so did the one who had agreed to accompany them as far as the unknown lands. The POLACCS, for this was the name by which they had chosen to be known, girded their bodies with garments of strength, upon their heads they placed helms of different colours, dark pieces of glass were placed over their eyes, so that those they met on the way would not see the truth in their eyes, for if it was seen, a great fear would spread over the land, for the POLACCS were not sure if they would succeed. They went to their steeds which were standing quietly at the side of the highway. They spoke quietly to them, words of reassurance, hands stroked the flanks of these mighty beasts who would carry their riders on the quest without complaint, only seeking sustenance when they wanted it, something the riders would always do, for a steed without sustenance was a troublesome steed. A final look was exchanged, burning sticks were put out, by those that craved such.

Our hero's, for that is how we must now look upon them, got onto their steeds. The steeds roared in approval, hot breath streamed from their nostrils and as one, the hero's set off. Their departure did not go unnoticed, eyes watched from behind screens, some muttered, not all wished our hero's well. The one they called the navigator led, his steed, clad in its battle robes of blue, was eager for the quest, he could feel it's heart beating strongly. Following, on his beast of black, a noble and strong beast, young at heart, came the one known as Fender Bender. The one called Sarge followed, his beast was a descendant of a lineage held in awe in journals of the past. It looked triumphant, its robes of royal blue flashed in the sunlight. Finally came their companion, a knight errant, on a trusted steed from the land of the East, its blackness
cowed those who thought to challenge our hero's. So into the flat lands of the East they went, on the way stopping and speaking with those whom they believed could help.

Mystic marks and secret words were placed on the scrolls our hero's were entrusted with. Huddled conversations were had, yes they had heard of the place called GAYDON but our hero's should ride on and seek council with others. They also met up with other seekers of the quest, knowledge of those who might help was exchanged.

In the land of DOWNHAM, the knight errant had to leave our hero's, there was much sadness at his parting, for he had imparted many words of wisdom to our brave band. He reigned in his steed, it was eager to leave, it knew there were others in need of it's masters wisdom, with a final gesture of salutation, the errant knight turned and headed back towards the shire known as LINCS. Our band watched him depart for as long as they could but magic lights were urging them to move on, so on they went with heavy hearts. But as they rode further into the land of the NOR folk, the urgency of the quest once more consumed their thoughts. They passed through the lands of many strange folk, seeking knowledge, asking for sustenance for their beasts, many groats were exchanged, for the folk of these lands did not wish to have the wrath of their own lords fall upon them for failing to gather the due taxes. Our heroic band drank strange brews of hot liquid to refresh themselves, at one stop, the one known as the Navigator consumed a sweetmeat known as a KIT KAT, he felt refreshed for its eating. But magic was afoot, an unknown dark lord had placed a potion into the refreshing brews causing our band to have to visit small keeps to relieve a pressure that kept building within themselves, the potion was even more cruel than at first believed for it attacked the will of our band and made them drink more of it. In the land of the Huntingdon's, the dark lord cast another spell and forced our hero's to visit a castle owned by the dreaded clan M'CDONALD. There they were forced to eat things called BIG MAC'S ,FRIES and drink from a large challis a liquid called SHAKE, thus increasing the pressure they felt within. A further tax was levied on them before they were allowed to leave.

On many of the highways, the one known as the navigator would lead. But some highways were mighty in size, many others travelled, they were not of a kindly disposition to our band, for they could see that they were on a quest and that their steeds were swift, some resented their progress and would direct their own chariots in an attempt to delay the band. The one known as the Sarge, being an appointed leader for he had three stripes with which he could adorn his personage, looked upon this action by the charioteer's with great disdain, so he summoned the Fender. The Fender knew what was expected of him, for he is knowledgeable in the handling of powerful steeds. Bravely he rode ahead, the charioteers seeing his powerful steed, as it glistened in the sun, its blackness contrasting with the silver of its adornments, were afraid, they did not want the wrath of the Fender vent upon them so they kept their peace. The Fender was heartened by his actions, he rode purposefully on, the power made him eager to seek out other wrong doer's, he began to chase down charioteers in the far distance. The navigator was concerned, he knew that the fender did not know the layout of these strange lands, so he urged his steed to greater effort, his steed was older but it rose to the challenge, caught the Fender and was able to pass, words of wisdom were given, the band were now reunited and continued.

The sun had long since set, our band rode on into the night, the only sounds being the beat of the beasts as they pounded the highway, The night brought new dangers, the dark lord sent winged creatures to attack our hero's, but they were prepared for him and illuminated the night with lanterns that attracted the creatures, by the light of day our band could see how great the onslaught had been, many were the casualties impaled on their steeds finery. The steed of the navigator, of older Germanic lineage was tired by its actions in catching up with the Fenders steed and had misled the band onto some wrong paths, its spirit was weakened, whilst the riders were speaking with sages who had tried to get the band to rest the steeds on dangerous ground, it stopped, no words from the Navigator could raise it's spirit. He called to his fellow seekers, they heard his cries and spoke softly to his steed, it heard their soothing words and rose to the challenge once more.

There was a sign that the darkness was ending, a light was beginning to rise in the eastern sky. The navigator checked his scrolls, he was heartened, his pulse raced, for from the pages he could see the word, and the word was GAYDON. Signs by the side of the highway also began to reveal the word, the word was seen by the others who also were heartened. Then, there it was, the land that they had sought, they entered the castle known as the Heritage Museum, they were not alone, other seekers were arriving all asking the same. Have we succeeded? Story's were told, tale's of daring were exchanged. But one question was on everyone's lips. When can we meet the lords of the ACU? Soon, said their servants, soon, they are not quite ready for you, go get some sustenance. But don't forget to pay your taxes. Finally the Lords of the ACU summoned the seekers into their chamber, they took their scrolls and looked upon them. Well done, they said, you have succeeded in the quest, you have found the magic number 500. The Lord handed them a brown coloured emblem. The Sarge was much distressed for it was not gold as he had expected. The band gathered around him, the disbelief showed, the elation of fulfilling the quest was slipping away, maybe, said one, they will send the gold with their messengers formally known as CONSIGNIA. So with these thoughts and clutching their brown emblems the heroic band returned to their steeds and rode out of the Gaydon towards the lands of the East towards the rising light.

The navigator, leading, was deep in thought, he had heard a rumour that the Lords were planning a new quest. Should he tell his brave brothers? Would they want to suffer the trials again?