Musbin - Chapter 1

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
An excerpt from something I wrote when I was 13, was influenced by Terry Pratchett's Discworld series.

Submitted: May 17, 2009

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Submitted: May 17, 2009

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The stars shone down from the sky, actually they hung and grimaced. Stars were like that, always angry.

Down in the city of Musbin the dreary lights of simple homes, inns and the Imperial Palace of King Walbert III twinkled like the stars. But these lights were warm, happy and welcoming.

In the Inn, “The Drowning Troll”, Dwarves, Trolls and such like were downing the ales. The gossip was flowing faster than the watered down ale that was being served.

In a corner a man wearing a tattered blue garb complete with mysterious stains sat, twiddling his thumbs. First opinions were deceptive in that you wouldn’t be able to tell that he was in fact the right hand man of the King. The man in question was Anfornow, known affectionately to King Walbert III as ‘Tiddler’. He was trying to look as inconspicuous as he possible could.

Can a buy ya a beer?” A rather large Troll, possibly female, approached him with a smile and a 5 way squint. She was wearing a mushroom around her neck and a live sheep around her waist.

No thank you!” Anfornow attempted a smile. “I’m errr.. fine!”

The Troll looked disappointed. “Don’t you like me?” The Troll frowned showing more wrinkles than an Elephant’s… trunk.

No I don’t like you so please, BLOODY WELL BUGGER OFF!!!” His eyes widened, if you looked closely at the side you could, but only just, see his brain.

The Troll turned and sighed with a smile in her lips, before walking up to a Dwarf and smacking his little round bum.

Anfornow shuffled anxiously in his seat. Usually he would only frequent the finest wine bars in the city, complete with their excellent cuisine and the even more delectable serving wenches. This was a whole new experience for the little man, and not one that he was particularly relishing.


Away, in another part of Musbin under the floorboards of a bakery 5 men dressed in red leather suits were plotting. Within this small room they did not have names but were known as Axe, Blade, Sword, Knife and Doughnut (It’s best not to ask!).

Right, are we all here?” Asked Axe, rummaging around in his leather pants.

Yes, but Doughnut’s had to pop off to the toilet!” Replied Knife.

Ooh yeah, his bowels ain’t what they used to be.” Added Blade.

Not since the accident!” Sword whispered. Knife and blade nodded in agreement.

Cease the chitter-chatter. We have a serious task at hand.” Axe shouted as loud as he dared. “As we all know the King is becoming incompetent and is now too old to carry the responsibility of the Kingdom on his shoulders.” The way in which Axe spoke almost made you think that he was a professional assassin and not just a freak who dresses up at night in a red leather body suit. “Because of this I suggest that we..” There was a dramatic pause. “Kill him!” There was no response. “ I said that we should KILL HIM.” Silence. “KILL THE KING!!!!!!”

But we can’t kill him! He’s the King and Kings can only be killed by Dragons and trees!” Blade pleaded with Axe.

What the HELL do you mean trees? How can a bloody lump of wood stuck in the ground possibly kill a King?” Sword’s voice was a mixture of sarcasm and utter disbelief.

Well, if the King was on a horse….”

Yes?”

And fell off….”

Yesss?”

Well he could bang his head on a tree and die. SEE!” Blade seemed confidant that nobody could find fault with his point now.

Somehow I doubt that. A King would wear a magic helmet or something like that!” Sword pointed out.

Axe pulled a chair from under a table and sat down. He sighed as his head fell into his hands. He started sobbing!


© Copyright 2020 PEnglish. All rights reserved.

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