The Destiny Of Bob

Bob was an ordinary peasant boy. He spent most of his time chopping wood and doing chores for his uncle. The rest he spent eating, sleeping and being beaten by his uncle. One day Bob got sick of all this and decided to run away from home and have an adventure (which is, of course, what inevitably happens when a young peasant boy runs away from home.). So he packed his small sack, took the ornate, gem-encrusted sword off his rather poor uncle’s wall and set off down the road.
Two yards from the gate he tripped over something, looking down Bob saw a glowing stone and, despite living in a fantasy world full of dangerous magical objects, picked it up. The stone suddenly cracked in half in his hand and a dragon popped out. ‘Greeting Bob’, said the great shining white beast in a terrible voice, ‘I, am Diamondnecklace and my purpose I to inform thee of thy destiny.’
‘Um‘, said Bob.
‘Thou shalt be the saviour of this great land Fullovmagicoria, thy destiny is to rid the kingdom of the usurper, Duke del Ville’.
‘Ummm…Ok’. Inside Bob’s head two tiny neurons battled valiantly, but in vain, to connect.
‘To achieve this destiny thou must travel to the capital, Fericahsel, and there look for a gilded tadpole. This quest shalt be a hard one, but the world of Computergaym needs a hero and thou art it. May the Giant Frog In The Sky be with thee Bob.’ And with a squelch and a puff of glittery smoke the dragon disappeared.

Bob travelled for many days and many nights without dying of exposure or needing to go to the toilet. At the end of the many days and many nights he arrived at the capital, Fericahsel.
Bob came to the city just as the sun set behind its high towers. “It’s….,” he said as golden beams framed dirty tower walls with planked up windows and bounced off streets full of mud and even worse things….”beautiful!.” The gates were already closed but that wasn’t a problem due to the foot or so that had rotted away from the bottom, leaving a Bob-sized gap. He slipped under the gate, past the intoxicated guards and waded off, up the street.

Somehow, Bob ended up at a tavern called The Boiled Hog. He ordered a room and a bath and, after a quick dip in some cold brown liquid (presumably water), went downstairs to eat. The tavern was noisy and  rowdy and smelt of stale beer, sweat and vomit, all in all pretty upmarket. Bob sat down at a small, rickety table in the middle of the room and ordered gloup and a bread-shaped stone. When the barmaid came back Bob asked her, as casually as he could, ‘Have you ever heard of something called the gilded tadpole?’
The room suddenly went silent. Someone up the back went ’Rrrrrrrrrdip!.” Bob recognised the noise against evil.
“Wh-why d’ye ask that?’ Said the barmaid with fear scribbled messily all over her face.
Bob gulped nervously and looked around. ‘Ummmm.’
‘Well trust me, you don’t want to know.’ The silent room seemed satisfied with this and was building up to rowdy again when a gravely voice shouted. ‘The boy has a right to know!’ The room fell silent again and a crooked figure limped up to Bob. An old man, leaning on a crooked crook, thrust his wrinkly, old, and rather smelly face into Bob’s. Bob flinched as the man breathed pickled halitosis all over him. ‘The Gilded Tadpole, boy, is the estranged son of the Giant Frog In The Sky and deity to the dark cult The Yellow Taddies. ’Ware of them ones, boy, they be pure evil.’ And with that he limped crookedly away, taking his bad breath with him.

The next day was Market Day and Bob decided to wander aimlessly through the market crowds.
All the bright colours and loud noises were a bit too much for him, merchants hawked their wares, old men played card games and spat on the ground, a man in bright sorcerer’s robes called up a powerful demon, children played among the stalls, two thieves beat someone up in an alleyway, a man dressed in yellow robes handed out parchment pamphlets. Bob grabbed one, remembered he couldn’t read, and asked the man what it said.
‘It says “Yellow Taddie Information Evening tonight at Number Thirteen, Dark Mysterious Alley”.’
‘Thanks,’ said Bob, and wandered off.

That night, after finishing a delicious supper of meat-shaped leather with a bowl of flavoured water called Soop (He really loved all this sophisticated metropolitan cuisine), Bob wandered aimlessly again and ended up at Dark Mysterious Alley.
Number Thirteen was a falling-down building with walls made of black bricks, rotten planks and shadows. Bob knocked politely on the door, which was opened by a crack.
‘What’s the secret password?’ The crack said suspiciously.
‘Umm…’ Said Bob.
‘Ye won’t be allowed in if ye don’t know the secret password.’
‘I didn’t think you needed one.’
‘What’s the secret password?’ Demanded the crack again.
‘I don’t know.’ Said Bob.
‘What’s-’ Suddenly the door opened wide and a beaming Yellow Taddie stood before him. “You must excuse Exentrikaracter, he’s a bit senile, seems to think we‘re some kind of secret society. Please come this way.’
Bob followed him past the crack, who turned out to be a hunched old man. The Yellow Taddie led him to a room filled with people, most of them in yellow robes. Bob found a seat and sat down just as a Yellow Taddie stood up at the front and began to speak. ’Greetings Followers of the Great Gilded Tadpole and guests, welcome to the Yellow Taddie Information Evening. I would like to start by….’ Bob plummeted into a heavy doze.

Someone tapped his shoulder, Bob woke with a snort. ‘Pretty boring isn’t he?’ Said a voice in Bob’s ear. Bob nodded. “I’m Meediahownd and I’m doing an article on the Yellow Taddies for the Fericahsel Minstrel, thought I was doing really hard-core, dangerous stuff, sacrifices and all that. Turns out they’re not as bad as everyone thinks they are, just a little boring. Apparently their bad reputation is due to agents the Duke sends out among the general public to spread nasty rumours, at least that’s their story…’ Bob started to doze off again. ‘..don’t know why the Duke doesn’t like them, though, a little bird.’ He tapped the side of his nose slyly. ‘Told me it had something to do with loyalty to the old king. Their philosophical views aren’t tha…’ Suddenly soldiers burst through the door, the Duke del Ville’s infamous Hotpinkcoats. Exentrikaracter’s voice cried out, ‘what’s the pa-’  Before it was silenced forever with a chop to the neck. The soldiers then proceeded to kill a few yellow Taddies and capture the rest, along with the audience, in their usual bloodthirsty fashion.

Bob found himself in a dungeon with slime dripping down the walls and rats scurrying busily across the floor. It was peak hour and they all wanted to get their terrorizing done so they could go home to their wives and thousands of rat babies. Bob looked around and saw his fellow prisoners were the other people from the Information Evening, a couple of vampires, an ogre, some tortured long-time residents and something that no-one quite knew what was.
For some strange reason Bob’s sword suddenly began to glow in the dark, one of the long-time residents gasped. ’Do my eyes deceive me or is that not Lolipopstik, the sovereign sword of Fullovmagicoria? I am Byuroecrat , once Chief Advisor to King Goodoldaze, who told me that only those of the royal blood of Fullovmagicoria can wield this great blade. You, boy, must be the Lost Prince of Fullovmagicoria and as such it is your duty to free this enslaved land!’
Bob thought for a moment, it was an effort. ‘Ok,’ he said, then walked over to the heavy, iron-banded dungeon door and pushed it open.
‘See the magic he possesses that all doors must open before him.’ Cried Byoorocrat.
‘It was unlocked.’ Said Bob and led his stampede of sudden loyal subjects through the halls of Castle Intheeyair.

Somehow, they ended up at the Duke del Ville’s audience chamber where the Duke himself was sitting, surrounded by Hotpinkcoats and advisors. ’Yeth?’ Said the Duke, looking up with one eyebrow half-raised. He was tall and dark in an evil (not romantic novel) kind of way.
‘Ummm..’ Said Bob.
Byoorocrat stepped forward. ’The Lost Prince…..’
‘Bob.’ Bob supplied.
‘…has come to claim his rightful place as ruler of Fullovmagicoria, as proven by his wielding of the Sovereign Sword, Lolipopstik.’
The Duke del Ville jumped to his feet. ’Let tha thcrawny runt fight for what he wantth.’ He proclaimed. ’I look forward to theeing hith death at the end of my thword!’
Bob held Lolipopstik aloft and it shone with a brilliant white light. Momentarily blinded, Bob stumbled. Seizing this moment of weakness the Duke darted forward, arm raised for the mortal blow. As Bob tripped he flung his arms out wide for balance and accidentally impaled the Duke on the end of his sword. The Duke del Ville sank to his knees, blood gushed from his mouth as he spoke his last words. ’That wathn’t thuppothed to happen.’
He fell to the floor and his sightless eyes stared up at the ceiling with a look of mild surprise.  
Everyone stared in shocked silence at the body on the floor and then a mighty cry went up, ‘Long live King Bob! Long live King Bob! Long live King Bob!’
‘Um.’ Said Bob. He looked rather dazed, the neurons hadn’t yet succeeded in their quest to connect.
A dragon appeared suddenly in a burst of pink bubbles. Bob was instantly squashed.
Diamondnecklace looked down in annoyance and spoke in his terrible voice.
‘Damn, that’s the second time I’ve done that this week.’