A Badly Written Writing-Challenge-Inspired Episode

So the noble knight Lord Frederigo D'Honaire and Melissa, the mysteriously displaced beautiful woman from the 20th century are, um. I have terrible writer's block. I just spent the last hour or so reading a statistics textbook, for Crom's sake. My right brain has probably imploded. Maybe I'll give www. seventhsanctum. com a try. The writing challenge generator turns up "A character robs someone. A character is belligerant throughout most of the story. During the story, a character drinks something that disagrees with them." Sounds like a Lost Soldier episode, actually. (It would be a Lots42 episode except that nothing is exploding.) OK, here we go...

When last we left the valiant knight Lord Frederigo D'Honaire, he had just encountered the beautiful, mysteriously displaced 20th century woman Melissa, who was oddly enough neither naked or chained to a wall. We really need to talk to Extend-a-Story management about that. Anyway, Frederigo decided that it was his knightly duty to take her to safety, as she was in considerable danger in the Dragon's caves. He thus left the cave with her, and travelled the long, wild, beautiful, but somewhat monotonous backroads of the southern Great Kingdom until several days later they reached the nearby village of Tialad's Crossing.

Now Melissa was a brave, resourceful, and kindhearted woman, but she was hardly operating in the most congenial of environments. One thing that everyone forgets about fantasy worlds is that they frequently stink. In the kingdom of Allaria at this time, it was considered disreputable for aristocrats to bathe more than two times a month. Lord Frederigo was certainly a handsome and noble enough man, but the thing that Melissa first noticed about him was his fragrant body odor. Also, as fascinating as the world she found herself in might be, Melissa felt jarred at being thrown out of her daily routine into something completely alien. Additionally, Frederigo's constant well-intentioned attempts at chivalry were beginning to get on her nerves. As a result, by the time they reached Tialad's Crossing, she was feeling rather belligerant.

Tialad's Crossing was a small village with only one small tavern on the outskirts, The Cleric's Head. The villagers glared with hostility at the ornately armored Dragonslayer and the strangely clothed beautiful dark-haired woman who rode with him. Although Melissa's was wearing what by the standards of her century were fairly normal casual clothes, to the villagers here they looked like the work of a madman. She suspected that it wouldn't be long before people started trying to put her to death as a witch.

They stopped at the inn and dismounted. "Thank God I'm finally getting a chance to sleep in an actual bed," said Melissa to Fred--she didn't particularly want to talk to Fred, but didn't have anyone else to talk to. "Even if it's one that stinks."

"I will do my best to procure for you the best bed I can, my lady," said Frederigo. Frederigo kept reflexively calling Melissa "my lady," even though she'd asked several times for him not to. It was driving her up the wall. He probably had fallen hopelessly in love with her and thought that she was just playing coy and that he could win her over in the end with undying service. She'd known several guys in high school like that. At least he let her call him "Fred"--her tounge kept tripping over the name "Frederigo."

"Thanks, I guess," she said. She wasn't going to refuse his offer, however annoying it was--he was the one who had all the local currency, and she did need it, and it was kind of sweet in a way. Fred seemed sincere enough for it not to be a cheesy pickup line. "They don't seem to like you here."

"No, they do not," said Frederigo sadly. "Many peasants here in the south are not grateful to their good King after the chaos that the Dragon has wrought, especially after the taxes were raised to compensate for the wealth it had stolen. They look upon the King and all who serve him with distrust. Doubtless someone here would sew you new clothing if given sufficient money, if you so desire."

"God, no. I mean, thanks, but I'd rather get to a safe place first. From what you say, this doesn't seem like a safe place."

"You are welcome, my lady--Melissa," said Frederigo, giving her that annoying look of adoration. Melissa wasn't normally a violent person, but she felt like she wanted to smash his head in. She really needed a bed.

They sat down at a table near the bar. The air was thick with many hideous odors which Melissa didn't want to know what they were. Lord Fred ordered a stout barmaid over and ordered food for both of them. Melissa noticed that his manner was almost as courteous to the lower-class barmaid as it was to her--at least his sexism was free of class prejudice. For food, Melissa decided simply to order what Fred was having, roast beef. It was probably full of all kinds of germs, but she desparately needed something more substantial than Fred's rations. For drink, she wanted beer (she really needed a beer), but they didn't have any. Fred suggested she take mead instead, and she uneasily agreed.

After what felt like far too long, they were given their food and drink. Melissa ripped into her beef with the strength and ravenousness of a barbarian. She then nervously sipped her mead, and immediately spat it out. "What is this crap?" she asked belligerantly.

"Why that is mead, the drink of the gods!" shouted Fred incredulously. She was straining the limits of his chivalry. "I have never met anyone who does not like it."

"What's mead made out of, anyway? I think I've read about it somewhere before."

"You do not know?" said Fred. "Everyone knows that mead is made with fermented honey."

"You mean I just drank rotten honey? Eeew!"

"You have never heard of mead and do not like it? It must be very strange in the age from which you hail." His tone of voice was a little dubious. He didn't quite seem convinced that she wasn't insane or the victim of some enchantment. At least he didn't seem to think she was a witch, though.

"I guess so. Could we get some water?" Fred called the barmaid over and ordered water for her. But when Frederigo rummaged in his pouch for money, a look of horror crossed his face. "I've been robbed!" he shouted.

1. Someone walking out of the inn drops a sack of coins sheepishly. There is a clang as they hit the ground.
2. The villagers look at Fred and Melissa and begin to mutter maliciously.

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