Twas the afternoon the squares appeared, black magic in the dragon's lair...
"This," he thought, "will be an evening of sheer adventure! Quick, Magellan! Throw me my trusty sword!"
"Fine then! No sword! I shall quest without one! Move it, sorceress or I shall signal the serpents!" And his eyes went scarlet red.
The signs were everywhere but his gut told him to disobey them. The force was strong within him. His inner Unicorn whinnied.
...And so he went on...
Stopping only to ask the wizard across the street for directions. Unfortunatley the wizard was busy so the archer would have to wait. He adjusted his cod-piece.
Three hours later and still the wizard was not available for comment. The archer was angry though strong. He summoned the shadows to lead him on his way.
...And he went... Brave and strong, he went.
...Pausing only to headbang to the Siren's guitar solo. Power metal was his weakness, it was true. So true.
And yet, he was headstrong. He kept on, fighting the urge to grow his hair down to his ankles and attend Comic-con 2007.
He followed the stairs into the northern wing of Dagger's Dungeon. Slowly. Slow--ly.
Unfortunatley no one was answering the doorbell and so the archer turned his back on the princess and her doom. Sadly...
... And very slowly. Carefully, moving down the stairs with wounded soul.
But the quest must go on! And so it did. Into the fleeting daylight...
"Where doth the banshee dwell?" The archer wondered, bewildered. Desperate. He was close, he could feel it. He could smell the eye of newt.
But just as suddenly as the banshee appeared, he was gone. Like the speed of light... And away. Far away.
It was getting late. The sun was beginning to turn it's way from mother earth and the Archer was weary from a day so traversed.
And so...The last light of day caressed his weary face and he flagged for his da-gon and disappeared in a whirlwind of trapper-keeper graphics.
Fare thee well.