text: Where is your sense of adventure? Heroes aren’t supposed to be in the game just for the money!
  
  
  What about for princess bosom?
  
  
  Princess bosom is nice, but even with that you are still only a cheap imitation of a true hero. Besides, I do not see any princess bosom in the area, and no, you cannot buy princess bosom. You must earn such luxuries.
  
  
  Are you telling me I don’t actually get to go home?
  
  
  No, you can go home if you want. I’m merely giving you an opportunity to reconsider because I am a kind and kindred spirit. Eh, who am I kidding? I’m kind of a dick, but my offer still stands.
  > You convinced you, oh benevolent and mighty guardian angel.
  No one likes a kiss ass. I'm more akin to a god than an angel anyway.
  
  
  Taking a deep whiff of air you can smell the magic. This place has more to it than abandoned pots of gold and rainbows after all. You order your horse to stay and guard your gold as you dart towards the disturbance, and he obeys, because that is what good horseys do.
  
  
  You storm through the trees, snapping branches and scaring furry little forest critters. In your haste, you trample a chipmunk. The little fellow’s bones make a nice crunching noise.
  
  
  “Hey what’s the big idea!”
  
  
  You whirl around but do not see anyone. You inspect the bottom of your boot, but the chipmunk is not the speaker. He is squashed like a rotten pumpkin all juicy and splattered.
  
  
  “Over here you idiot.” A giant of a man posing as a tree rumbles toward you. He has moss and vines for a beard and hair. His green eyes glimmer with malice. A bear and a wolf lumber along at his sides. “Why are you destroying my forest?”
  
  
  “Sorry, I was looking for whatever made that awful cry.”
  
  
  “That was a leprechaun bemoaning his sorry fate of being a leprechaun.”
  
  
  “Cool, can you show me where they are?”
  
  
  “You murder my friend and harm my trees and you ask me for help? Give me one reason why I shouldn’t bring you home to my wife and tickle you to death for her amusement while my children eat your toes!”
  
  
  What in the name of Pegasus is this thing? Oh, if only you had brought that book on mythical creatures Samwellington bought you for your birthday. At any rate, something tells you he does not belong in Irelandshire. You do not think you will be able to reason with him. If the chipmunk was his friend, honor would dictate that he avenge the cute little guy’s mushy corpse. How do you want to play this?
  > You tell him, 'Everything you say is a lie.'
  A smug smirk crosses your lips as you proudly declare, “Everything I say is a lie.”
  
  
  The weird tree man thing stares at you then shakes his head in pity. “What did you think a paradox would do? Make my brain melt into soup?”
  
  
  “Yes, actually.”
  
  
  “I am a leshy. Not an imbecile.”
  
  
  “I have no idea what that is. Do you sing songs?”
  
  
  “You’ll see what I do.”
  
  
  The leshy’s animal friends attack and pin you to the ground before you can react. You manage to strangle the bear to death with your ethereal arm, but this only enrages the leshy further. He plucks you from the ground as a princess would an eyelash and carries you off to his shanty with the wolf nipping at your feet.
  
  
  Once inside his home, he binds you with vines and hangs you from the ceiling. His wife and children enter from kitchen.
  
  
  “Oh, wonderful,” his wife cries with glee, “you found a wanderer! We get so few in the Valley of Rainbows.”
  
  
  “The stupid leprechauns keep everyone away,” says one of the children. “No one wants to be near a leprechaun.”
  
  
  The leshy’s wife smacks the child upside the head. “You treat the leprechauns with respect young man. They have enough misfortune without your drivel.”
  
  
  “That’s right. Behave yourself, or I won’t let you eat his toes,” says the leshy.
  
  
  “Yes Pa.”
  
  
  The leshy begins tickling you as the children nibble on your toes. The wife shoves a hand down her dress and begins to moan and giggle. You shut your eyes and vomit between fits of laughter and screams of agony. Piss runs down your leg.
  
  
  “You evil bastard!” you scream.
  
  
  “I’m not evil. You’re just a failure and a murderer,” says the leshy as he proceeds to tickle you to death. “Chipper was one of my best friends. He will not be forgotten.”