Agility. Lizard men. Survival. Gaar’s mind raced as he sprinted through the small village, clobbering lizard men left and right with only one goal: save the people. With amazing speed, Gaar grabs a lizard man by the legs and straightens the reptile’s body in such aggressive force that the scaly creature is now as stiff as solid wood, ready to use as wakeboard. In one eloquent move, Gaar flipped the lizard man beneath his feet, boarded him, and began to glide up the side of the small hut. Once he reached the top he dismounted and smashed straight through the roof, landing in front of the Lizard King.
“Ssss, how dare you confront me like thisss! And in front of the kids? Really?” said the Lizard King, not believing the sight of Gaar. “At least we finally get to ssssee who the TRUE star of the show is!”
Gaar was in no hurry to speak to this abomination, only to save the children from his clutches. Right as Gaar took a step towards the huge lizard, the Lizard king started to shout.
“But Gaar, you gotta wake up! Come on man, wake up!”
Gaar shot up in his bed, cold sweat running down his helmet and down to his bare skin. There was a short, stout man, no younger than fifty or so, hovering over Gaar, flailing and screaming in a panicked state.
“Whoa, easy there Buckle, you need to calm down. What’s going on?” Gaar’s large body rose from the bed and lumbered over to his suit of armor. It was perfect in every way; light glistening off at” every angle, gold lining across the arms and sides, and made to fit Gaar’s figure so well he often mistakes it as a morphsuit after he has worn it for a few hours. He suited up and asked, “Buckle, what is going on?”
Buckle tried to catch his breath. He was a small and round fellow, not fit for such physical exertion. The tiny man wore a red coat over his other clothes. His moustache was very long and thin, curling up into a fine point, and he was fairly bald on top.
“Th-the princess! Lord Brakkisoth came and kidnapped her! I tried to save her, but he was so powerful… he threw me at least thirty-five feet!” Buckle gasped for air for a few moments and then continued, “No one could save her. We came and awoke you because we know you’re the only one who can stand up to Brakkisoth. Please Gaar, y-” Gaar put his finger up to Buckle’s mouth, silencing him.
“Of course, Buckle, anything for the princess. Which direction did he go?” Gaar was already equipped with his signature Longsword and was walking out the door. Buckle pointed to a long, winding path that led into the Forgotten Woods, the place of no return. Gaar sighed a long sigh, muttered some words under his breath, and began to sprint into the woods.
---
Gaar remembers why these woods were given their name. He was completely lost, swearing he had passed the Gobbleberry Tree at least twice before. Scattered across the woods were skeletons, some older than others, and some even ancient. Many people wander in here and get swallowed by darkness and mystery, never to be seen again. Shuddering, he pressed on, determined to find his destination.
Hours had passed and there was no sign of an exit; in fact, the woods seemed to be getting even thicker as Gaar went. He was more than confused, his world map was not displaying his location. This was an extremely rare and strange occurrence, since Gaar’s world map was electronic and automatically updated whenever he discovered a new area. Gaar thought for awhile on this topic and finally came to the conclusion that the forest wasn’t real--an illusion, in fact. The bizarre, anti-colored trees and bushes were being projected by something above or below, but our courageous hero wasn’t sure! Painfully deciding whether he should climb one of the trees or dig underground, Gaar heard rustling in one of the nearby bushes. He reach for his legendary Longsword, but before he could so much as blink, four assassins jumped out from the brush and attempted to backstab him. Gaar rolled swiftly to the right, dodging all but one dagger that gashed his forearm. He knew he was in a lot of trouble, outnumbered by highly trained warriors; however, this also excited him, for he was able to test out one of the many gadgets in his arsenal. Gaar pulled a string that was attached to his holster, letting loose a flaming bomb which he kicked towards the assassins. He was able to jump in time, but he lit up all four of the sly guys into red hot fire. Now, Gaar was not only amazed at the bomb, but how the forest did not catch fire, meaning it had to be fake. He flexed his thighs and launched into the air, where he saw Lord Brakkisoth projecting the forest’s image out of his flying saucer.
“Hey, Brakkisoth, what do you think you’re doing? You thought an illusory forest was enough to stop me? I’m gonna give you a taste of righteous retribution, fiend!” screamed Gaar as he arced his jump and landed on Brakkisoth’s saucer. Almost immediately, Brakkisoth shrieked in terror and flew his flying saucer back to his castle that rested atop a mountain a few miles away. The sudden jolt in movement knocked Gaar off his feet, sprawling onto the ground below with a loud thud. After regaining consciousness and his breath, he stood up, bewildered. The forest was completely gone, not a single bizarre looking tree or bush in sight. He could feel the sun against his armor again, and it felt great. With the massive obstacle out of the way, he continued onward to Brakkisoth’s castle.
---
A few days passed since Gaar’s quarrel with Brakkisoth, but Gaar was determined to press on. On the fourth day of his quest, he arrived at the massive monument that sat before him, swallowing most of the land around it in darkness. Without hesitation, Gaar ran up to the large, wooden door and charged through it, making a cleanly cut Gaar-shaped hole in the center. The minions that awaited him were shocked and confused at what they just witnessed, and frankly, Gaar was surprised at his boost in physical strength. After a few moments of amazement, the minions all yelled, “Hey! It’s Gaar! Come on guys, get ‘em!” and surrounded the hero. With little to no effort whatsoever, Gaar sprinted through the horde, grabbing minions left and right and throwing them into one another, tripping them, knocking them out, the works of a true warrior. In a minute’s time, Gaar had single-handedly taken out almost one hundred men and didn’t break a sweat. He stepped over the bodies strewn across the floor and waltzed right up to Brakkisoth’s room. Gaar was not prepared for what awaited him, however; the room’s only entrance was blocked by an immense iron door. At that moment, a voice came on over the intercom:
“Ah, Gaar, just in time to see my new invention! I know how much you like smashing fragile things like wood and plexiglass, so how about a foot of iron? Ahahaha!” Brakkisoth’s voice shut off, leaving Gaar in silence. The knight was perplexed--how would he penetrate such a formidable fortification? In all honesty, there was only one thing to do, and Gaar was way ahead of the narrator.
“Iron door, eat steel plating!” yelled Gaar has he charged forward yet again, smashing straight through the door with ease. Brakkisoth was sitting upon his throne at the back of the room, mid-bite in his sandwich. The large evildoer swallowed heavily.
“What, h-I mean how did you charge through that? I personally tested it against a full grown, angry White Rhino and it didn’t even dent! Come on man, I am not made of money!” screamed Brakkisoth, angry for reasons beyond Gaar’s comprehension. He was an evil overlord, minions would risk their lives just to get him a glass of wine. The chances of money being tight for him are close to none.
“Ohoho, Brakkisoth, you child,” chuckled Gaar. “You know who I am. Why ask nonsensical questions like that? Or are you just stalling because you don’t want to fight me?” Gaar, distracted by his own wit, took an unexpected right hook to the jaw and fell flat on the stone floor. It hurt… a lot less than he remembered it back in their previous battles. After a few more moments of regaining balance, he noticed it was one of Brakk’s minions. “Typical of ol’ Brakky,” Gaar thought to himself. Gaar looked firmly at Brakkisoth after throwing the minion against a wall and wiped the dirt and dust off his helmet.
“So that’s how it’s going to be, huh? In that case…” Gaar trails off and begins wielding his Longsword. In retaliation, Brakkisoth sends a minion to retrieve his Arch Maul, which returns seconds later. Gaar couldn’t believe his eyes; the Arch Maul was stuff of legend, told in stories and prophecies, and to be used by such a monster disgusted him. Enraged, Gaar lunged forward and caught Brakkisoth off guard, knocking him onto the floor. The dastardly brute rolled backwards and leaped up, bringing his destructive hammer up into the air above his head. At this point, any sane man would have jumped a great distance out of the way or simply accepted fate, but Gaar decided to counter it with a parry. He wasn’t expecting the impact of the blow however, for it shattered his Longsword and severely injured his left wrist.
“Christ…” Gaar thought to himself. “This weapon is much too powerful for me to handle. I have to get it somehow.”
More swings from the overwhelming weapon, in which Gaar successfully dodged all of. Not a single chance to take it from Brakkisoth so far, but Gaar stayed vigilant. Swing after swing Gaar rolled and jumped, until one massive blow connected with the side of his skull. Gaar twisted and tumbled across the room until he hit the wall, cracking and denting his helmet. This was the final straw, for no one messes with Gaar’s helmet, his most prized possession.
“Alright, Brakkisoth, a helmet is a man’s best friend, and you know that! I’ll kill you!” screamed Gaar and he lunged at Brakkisoth. His arm connected with Brakkisoth’s neck, bringing him down into the ground, smashing straight through into the floor below. The two men staggered around after landing, but the evil hulk retained his balance first, and pinned Gaar against the ground.
“You think you can save your precious princess? You truly thought you’d beat me and become the great hero once again? I’ve got power and greed on my side, Gaar! Your petty justice and retribution are obsolete in comparison to my tactics!”
Brakkisoth brings his huge hammer into the air with great might, ready to swing it downwards upon Gaar’s vulnerable head.
“This was your last night, knight! Say goodbye to your pathetic life forever!” Brakkisoth roared, very proud of this moment in history where Gaar would finally fall.
There was a noise from above. It was one of Brakkisoth’s men.
“Hey, uh, sir? We can’t find the TV remote. Do you remember wh--”
Just like that, the unobservant little guy fell through the hole they made in the floorboard, landing right on top of Brakkisoth, knocking them both out.
Gaar stood up, completely in shock that he was alive and that something so lucky had happened. Surely this had to have been fate or the prophecy or something, Gaar thought. How could a minion fall through a gaping hole at this exact moment?
Gaar looked up in fascination, and what he saw changed his life forever.
(To be continued.)