Jack's Tales: The Great Shield Pt I

After about an hour of trotting along a dirt path on Alma's back, Jack had stopped at a well in the middle of a crossroads for a break; he dismounted her and dipped his hands into the well, splashing his face with the water. Jack had left the freehold a broken man. He had vowed to fight for the changelings who had now called him friend, and in his carelessness he had endangered all of them.
“The Green Knight will hunt down whoever last held the bones of sir Gawain.” Toy Masters’ words ringed in his ears. This was why he had to leave; he couldn’t risk the safety of the freehold, even if it meant leaving the motley and his best friends, especially Rita. Jack was going to miss her the most; especially the way she always joked about kicking Jack out of the freehold for being a menace to the freehold.
Jack chuckled, then as his smile faded into depressed sighs, he stared at his hedge trail, blood-stained beanstalks with burning blue leaves pierced the soil.
Rita was right, even though she was kidding, Jack’s careless adventuring could have caused a horrible incident at the freehold if Jack hadn’t taken the skull to Toy Master. The Knight was hunting him, so he had to leave. Jack shudders at the thought of what would horror would await him at the hands of The Green Knight.
Alma notices this, “Why do you shudder Wielder? Are you cold or ill?”
                “No, Alma.” Jack shakes his head clear. “As you know, I’m being hunted, so I’m running to-”
Alma rears back, “No! Not running; tactically retreating until you get the advantage! The Wielder never runs from a battle!”
                Jack throws his arms up in surrender, “All right, all right, Jeez! I’m “tactically retreating” to the Tolltaker Knights HQ. Every single person in there is a hell-of-a fighter; let alone Gnoll who would probably just slaughter the Knight by himself.” Jack rubs his hand across the scar that Gnoll had left on his chest.
Alma snorts, “Well then what is the matter, Wielder? Wouldn’t you be saf- uh… at the tactical advantage with all of those brutes at your disposal?”
“It’s not that Alma, I need to be able to protect myself more efficiently.” Jack pulls His axe from his back, and stares into the inscription scrawled across the blade. “I can’t be relying on other people to be there whenever I’m in trouble.”
“Then why not just get a shield if you are so defenseless?” Alma sarcastically asked.
Jack perks up and looks at Alma, ignoring her sarcasm. “That is a brilliant idea! Do you know where one is?”
“No, and even if I did I would not concede the information to you. You do not need it Wielder and I refuse to help!” Alma scoffs and turns her head from Jack.
Jack plants the hilt of his axe into the ground, making the most commanding and leader-like pose he could. “Alma,” he said in as commanding a voice as he could muster. “I am the chosen wielder of The Woodsman’s Axe. I am the guardian of the forest and prophesized slayer of the giant Cormoran! And as my steed, you must adhere to my commands! And I command that you help me to find a shield strong enough to aid me in my quest to become the strongest in the land!” Jack stamps his axe as a judge stamps his gavel, declaring a prisoners sentence.
After a moment of grumbling, Alma turns her head back and bows, “As you wish, my Wielder.”
“Good!” Jack relaxes his pose and mounts Alma. “Now where should we go to find such a shield?”
Hesitantly, she sighs, “Why not ask Toy Master? I am positive he will have something of that sort.”
“Ah! Then let’s ride Alma! Onward!” Jack Stamps his heels into Alma’s sides, she doesn’t move. Jack rolls his eyes, “… Please?” she takes off running.
After a while, they find the Misfit Junkyard. As they crossed the pit of tar, the air started smelling of rust and motor oil; a scent Jack was familiar with, since he came here often. As they made their way through the piles of garbage and broken machines, they saw a little man sitting atop a metal scorpion, rummaging through a toy chest of some kind.
Jack steps off of Alma, and approaches the man, “Hello, Toy Master?”
Toy Master looks up from his chest, snaps his fingers and the lid shuts. “Ah! Jack Woods, I didn’t think you would be back so soon, especially after I told you about the pineapple. Speaking of which, how is your… prize?”
Jack holds up the bag, “It’s fine, have you found a buy-”
Toy Master cuts him off, “No. Can I help you with anything else?”
Jack puts the bag back into his satchel, “Actually yes, you wouldn’t happen to have an incredibly powerful magic shield lying around would you? One strong enough to withstand the blow of a Gentry?”
Toy Master scratches his chin, “This is a pretty tall order, Jack. What do you have to offer in exchange?”
Jack pulls out the petrified eye of the dragon Artorious, slain only a day earlier.
“Ah! That’ll fetch a pretty penny, but even with the rest of your credit that’s nowhere near enough for me to give you a shield as strong as what you’re asking for.”
Jack looks down and breathes discouragedly.
“I can however, for this and the rest of your credit, tell you where to find one, deal?” He outstretches his hand.
Jack thinks it over for a moment, and shakes his hand. The eye disappears and an old map appears in Toy Master’s hand. “This is the map to the location of the tomb of Artorious the Abyss Walker. His Shield is said to be-”
Jack interrupts, “Wait, what? Artorious? How could a dragon use a shield? Plus, why would he have a tomb, we just killed him yesterday!”
“Not Artorious Pendragon you dolt; Artorious the Abyss Walker. Totally different person, also it’s rude to interrupt people when they’re talking!”
“Sorry,” Jack said sheepishly.
“It’s quite alright, now as I was saying, his shield is said to be forged of the ivory of Balerion's teeth, and painted black and blue with the blood of his keeper, Gwynn, Lord of Cinders. It’s said to be able to withstand even the strength of a dragon’s maw. If you’re looking for a strong shield, you won’t find anything stronger than that one.”
Jack’s eyes lit up with the thought of that shield, his mouth was salivating at the thought of owning such a prize. “That’s amazing! Now how do I get it?”
Toy Master gives Jack the curled, yellowing map. “As I said, this map will lead you to his tomb. But be wary, you will have to face several challenges once you enter the cave.”
“Such as?” Jack tries to coax information out of him.
Toy Master waives his hand, “I have no idea, but I remember hearing something about his comrades joining him in death. So watch for that.”
Jack sighs, “Thanks for the help Toy Master, if I find anything in the cave, I’ll bring it strait to you!” Jack leaps on to Alma, and they take off in the skies, heading to their new adventure.
End of part I. 
Category:Fiction