The Crying Pennant

Part 17

Back over the Rickety bridge and past the front gate of the castle/monastery, walked Sid, With and Fawh. “I know the entrance was around here,” dithered Sid, “but where I just don’t know.”

  With found something lying on the ground, “What’s this?”

  It was a signpost and it read ‘The secret underground entrance to the Dark Lord’s castle, this way’.

  “That was a bit of luck,” enthused With, and he walked towards the secret underground entrance to the Dark Lord’s castle.

  Again it was a dark and dismal place and Sid lit a lamp, “My dwarvish eyes aren’t what they used to be,” he moaned.

  The dark, mildew coated, metal studded, green lacquered, warped and flea bitten oak doors both stood open. “That’s funny,” said Sid, “the other dark, mildew coated, metal studded, green lacquered, warped and flea bitten oak door to the left was not open when we came last time.”

  Tentatively he crept to the door and removed his battle axe from his belt, he motioned to With to prepare a flash bomb from the flash powder. “After three With and throw it in, but close your eyes until it goes off.  One, two, three.”

  With threw the flash bomb into the room and after a short pause they both rushed in to see a small man chained to the wall clenching his eyes shut. Sid sniffed the air, “Smells like a pansy elf to me,” he grumped.

  “I am not effeminate, but compared to your mother-in-law I am,” said the elf.

  Both Sid and With looked up to the ceiling to see if Sid’s mother-in-law was going to fall from it but nothing happened. “She must be doing the hoovering,” said Sid.

  With bent down to the elf and looked at his chains, “How did you get into this mess?”

  “I tried to rescue my betrothed who has been taken by the Dark Lord. I think they’re saving me to eat later.”

  “How are we going to get his chains off Sid?” asked With.

  “Me battle axe will do it, hold your left hand on this stone.”

  “You might chop his hand off Sid,” wittered With.

  “He’s only a pansy elf, any way I’m good with this axe.”

  The elf put his hand to the stone and Sid took three chops to break the metal wristlet, then Sid took four chops to break the other.

  “Thank you surly dwarf, I owe you my life,” thanked the elf.

  “What is your name elf?” asked With.

  “‘Tis Alf, Alf the elf,” elfed Alf.

  “Well then Alf, our friends are in the Dark Lord’s castle at this moment trying to rescue the princess Arianne and we are trying to get in to help them by this route. Would you like to join us?” asked With.

  “That is very kind of you but I have no armour or weapons,” grieved Alf.

  “Leave that up to me,” said Sid the dwarf. “Oh fine Author, one that provides for us, the golden handed one whose creations are witty and bright.....”

  Suddenly a full suit of elven chain mail and a delicate glowing sword fell from the ceiling.

  “Wow,” wowed Alf, “look at the sword, it’s got a battery in the hilt that gives an electric shock if it hits, very useful if you’re fighting goblins in armour.” He shimmied into the chain armour and clicked off the sword to save its battery. “I’m ready, shall we go to get him?”