text: [Themes: fantasy, humor]
  
  The thrush and the castle alike welcomed the morning. It was one of those one rare and precious days of spring with neither rain nor snow, insect pests nor incessant clamor of a migratory flock, biting frost nor unbearable heat.
  
  No, it was none of these things. It was a thing of beauty and a sight to behold, and as usual, Sir Osis of the Liver hated it anyway. When most laborers had already been working for several hours, Sir Osis was just rolling out of his bed.
  
  As he spent the next hour eating breakfast and nursing his head in silence, he reflected on what he could do that day. He could go around the village and watch for criminals, old ladies whose cats insisted upon climbing trees they had no intention of descending, and such, or he could stay home and train or take care of some business...or perhaps lie in bed some more.
  
  > stay at Home
  Yeah, there was no way he was going to the village that day. He had so many important things to take care of, like how he couldn't open his eyes longer than three seconds. There was only one thing to fix that. He brought his legs back up into the bed and closed his eyes again. When he woke up again, he has soaked with sweat under the blankets, and a tray of food had been left near his door. Still not feeling like leaving his room, he took a piss out of his narrow window, congratulated himself on getting most of it outside, and sat down to eat his breakfast. After eating, writing a letter, and giving some orders to the servants, he went outside.
  
  His steed, a white creature of around ten hands, was saddled and awaiting him. Named Alphonse, he had been a gift from Queen Justinia, and bore a resemblance to a horse in the sense that it was an equine. Together, they went out to an empty pasture. The ground was damp yet, but there was enough grass that what mud was there was not enough to cause any problems. About two thirds of the way to the far end of the pasture was a weighted bag on a beam. The beam was set up for practice with a spear and if struck incorrectly, would swivel and send the bag to strike the assailant. Until the sun started to lower in the sky after the noon, Sir Osis trained without interruption. Then a rider came up to the pasture before stopping at the gate.
  
  "Good afternoon."
  
  "Good afternoon to, Sir Odin of the Liver?"
  
  "It is Sir Osis you are speaking to."
  
  "I've a message from Queen Justinia to all unoccupied knights in the general vicinity, my lord. There is thought to be a beast living in a nearby portion of Her Majesty's forest, and several people have gone missing within the past month—more than the usual I mean."
  
  "So I am to be on a rescue mission!" Sir Osis exclaimed.
  
  "No, sir. More of an extermination, if you will. Her Majesty wants who or whatever is responsible for these disappearances neutralized—killed, if you will."
  
  "Errrrr...I am not entirely certain that I am the correct man for this. Perhaps Sir Loin may be a better fit."
  
  "He's already searching in his area. It is necessary—imperative, one may say—that whatever this is be stopped. Her Majesty's orders, sir."
  
  Well there went any hope of staying home all day. All he could do was go out and hope that word reached him of the situation being resolved before he had spent his whole day out there. Within a half hour, he was in the forest fighting his way through brambles. He got to thinking; was there a reason whatever he was looking for would be voluntarily putting itself through this? Not really. Then he made the decision to go down and search along the river instead. Now that was a far more pleasant walk, and he could see much farther too. For some time, he rode along the riverbank, then he got to thinking again. This spot he could see up ahead looked like a spot he would like if he were some man-eating beast. Perhaps he should stop there and wait a while, he figured.
  
  So he did.
  
  As he sat by the river, something shiny caught his eye in the water. Perhaps it was some sort of treasure, he thought. To still be shiny like this, it could not have been here for long, unless it was gold perhaps. Naturally, he got on his knees and peered into the water. The outline of the object danced and warped with the motion of the water. Then his examination was cut off with the appearance of a brown object smoothly gliding through with the current. Thinking it was a beaver, he pulled back to see that something was very off about it. This beaver was swimming backwards? No, this beaver had a bill like a duck, or perhaps this duck had a body resembling a beaver. Determined to find out, Sir Osis prodded it with his sword in the hopes of getting it to turn over. It did not. It lunged out of the water and onto his face. Stunned, Sir Osis dropped his sword and rolled over on top of it. Then the beaver hit Sir Osis with his hindquarters, and Sir Osis felt an excruciating pain go through himself. All he could do was lie on his back and scream, while the beaver too one last glance at him before slipping back into the river to resume his journey.
  
  The sun was gone and the moon was high before Sir Osis was able to pull himself up again. Every move he made was difficult, and he cursed the beaver fay that had done this to him. However, he managed to gather some wood and build a fire to warm himself from lying on the cool ground for so long. As he sat there, shivering, he dwelt on his available options. He could turn back and go home, or he could continue on his journey. He was in need of medical attention and perhaps that of a priest, but those were things he might be able to find if he stopped in another nearby village. Whatever he decided would have to wait until morning, but it was good to have an idea of things now.
  
  > go Home
  This little excursion was over. Monster hunting and demon beavers were not what he was getting paid for. He wouldn't do any good if he died out here anyway. Mind made up, Sir Osis allowed sleep to come and take him from his pain. It didn't come nearly soon enough. Then next morning, he willed himself to stand up again and called for his horse. After about ten minutes of that, Alphonse came lumbering to him. Then Sir Osis made sure nothing was left behind and put out the fire. The river's cool water beckoned to him, but he was apprehensive about allowing his face anywhere near a place such a terrible creature allowed his. Thirst proved a stronger opponent than fear, however, and he carefully got a quick drink and some more water for later—swirling the water in front of him with a long branch every few seconds to scare anything off all the while, just in case. Then it was time to leave this cursed place. Every movement he made was difficult and there was pain with every breath—without breath too. He'd tried holding it to see if there was a difference.
  
  After a couple hours, he had returned to the highway and was enjoying the feeling of the warm sun against his back. When he had reached a point he recognized as being roughly three miles from his home, he saw a man as old as the sun and moon bent under the weight of a pack that must have weighed twice as much as him. "Good day, sir!" he called in a voice which surprised Sir Osis in its clarity.
  
  "I suppose one may call it that under certain circumstances. However, I shall be of the slight inclination to disagree with you. It is not yet a good day. Perhaps in a few hours, it will have sufficiently improved enough to be called middling, but for now it is a day that I would very much prefer to eliminate from my memory entirely."
  
  "I'm sorry to hear that, sir," the ancient one said flatly before regaining his enthusiasm and setting down his pack before Sir Osis and his horse. The weight may have appeared to have been removed from his back, yet he was bent at the same sharp angle as before. "Whatever it is that's ailing you, I have a product that would make a fine solution to it. In fact," he chuckled as if thinking of the perfect joke to tell his friend later, "I may have several! What is it you need?"
  
  "It is not a simple matter to—"
  
  The old peddler cut him off. "I understand perfectly, sir. Actually, I don't, but I wouldn't think ill of you for it," he said while giving Sir Osis a reassuring pat on the back.
  
  "Have you laid eyes on the cursed beaver too?"
  
  "Oh, many. That's the point in which I usually remember that I need to be hitting the road once more and bid my companion farewell though, sir. You'll learn in time." He brought out a couple of glass bottles. One was clear with a deep brown, viscous substance inside, and the other was a watery substance with a color impossible to determine from behind the tinted glass it was in. He opened the bottle of watery liquid and inhaled deeply before pulling back an shaking his head. "Now this will cure anything," he said with a laugh before tucking it back into his pack and smelling the brown bottle. "This here is the one we're looking for." He held it out to Sir Osis before drawing his hand back. "I am correct in believing you do have some coin on you, sir."
  
  > ask How Much He Needs
  "What is the price you are asking?"
  
  Sir Osis figured that if he had the funds there was no point in continuing to suffer like he was. The man born before the mountains chuckled to himself before replying, "For what it is, a bargain. A copper coin should do you just nicely."
  
  The transaction was made, and the peddler tipped his hat. "A pleasant journey to you, sir," he said before hoisting his pack back onto his back.
  
  When Sir Osis received the bottle, he was surprised to see it engraved with some sort of markings. He was not sure what they were, but they looked to him almost like of some sort of script. "Allow me to inquire as to..." he started before trailing off when he realized that he could no longer see the man who had watched the rivers form in his youth. He questioned his sight for a moment before deciding that a ridge had hidden the peddler from view. Then his body ordered his mind to pay attention to the elixir before them. He removed the stopper, being sure to save it in his pocket for later, and held his breath before bringing the mouth of the bottle to his lips. It was to his surprise that the medicine tasted nothing of the wretched concoctions he had been forced to take when sick as a child. It had a strong smell that burned his nostrils slightly, but the flavor was sweet. He took three good draughts of the viscous substance before wiping his mouth. He was no longer in pain, but something else had happened. Overcome by dizziness, Sir Osis dismounted and curled up on the side of the road—feeling unable to go any farther. Then he felt consciousness slip away.
  
  Sir Osis awoke to an overwhelming floral smell. With no hesitation, he jumped up and drew his sword, fearing the worst. However, all he was greeted with was a woman in very strange dress making a rather pissed-off expression. She quickly backed away when he drew his sword but her demeaner became no more pleasant than before. In fact, she began to yell at him in a strange language he had never heard anything like before. Sir Osis sheathed his sword and bowed slightly. "I am afraid that I never did learn any of that Russian. You are Russian?" He had no idea what this strange woman was, but Russian was a very good guess, he thought.
  
  When Sir Osis had sheathed his sword, the woman calmed down considerably, yet she was not any more favorable to Sir Osis's presence in her sight than before, and Sir Osis learned that "Get the hell out of my place" was the same in many languages that day. As relieved as he was that he did not appear to have been enslaved, he was not pleased in the least with this situation. Out on the street, he could here that everybody seemed to speak whatever that woman had been screaming, they all had the same strange look about them, and they all wore those strange clothes. Strangest of all however was that now and then someone would pass by who appeared to be blue. Now, the interplay of light and shadow can have strange effects on the visual perception of man, but no shadow followed around individuals throughout their days, the color of a sunny sky in September all the while. That's right. There were no tricks being played. Some of those people were blue. Now, whether it was natural pigmentation or it was a paint was a mystery to the knight, but either way, it was quite visually shocking, and pondering it distracted him from the strange situation he was in...for a time.
  
  It was five minutes before Sir Osis looked around and came to the full realization that he was certainly not anywhere near home anymore, and he had no idea how he got there or by what transportation he should return. This was fine. He could handle this. He took a deep breath to calm himself and let it out along with a profane deluge. This did not make him feel any more cheerful, but now he could consider his situation with a clearer mind. The clearer mind told him to skedaddle before whatever had brought him to this place came back. As he wandered, he realized that the city he was in was much larger than anything he had been near before and not a single person was speaking his language. He tried to wake up or to change his surroundings, but If this was a dream, he had no control over it. As the sun hung low, he came to the edge of the city and looked out at the landscape before him. The fields and jungle before him were like nothing he had ever before seen.
  
  > stay In the City
  Sir Osis knew that in the city there was shelter and work. He knew nothing of what was beyond. The choice was simple. Of course, he would have to get a new set of clothes to blend in more as soon as possible. Oddly enough, nobody had stolen his money, and he was able to find lodging quite easily, although it was far more expensive than he would have liked. Then he settled in to begin his new life.
  
  It took him some time, but he eventually managed to communicate in the new language. He found that nobody knew how he could get home, nor had they even heard of it. All he could really do was work at his new job guarding a large inn and brothel and hope some merchant passing through knew how he could get home. None of them did, and after years of waiting, Sir Osis gave up hope. He began to spend his nights smoking opium and enjoying the company of blue-skinned females—with which he was very popular. It wasn't long before his habits caused him to be thrown out by the owner of the establishment—with which he was less popular. He died alone in the street behind where he once worked.