The Problems of King Wither (Preview)

Day 4

There is but one direct pass through the mountains to Ghast River and the Glowstone Port. If it ever becomes blocked, the only other way to reach the port is to follow the shore of Lava Lake up and around the mountains. That way is arduous and can take several days longer. When last I vacationed at Ghast River, forty years ago, there was nothing to do but float right through the Crevice of Tragedy (I don't know who names these things). However, as our little band approached the large crevice, I noticed that what looked like a small village had sprouted up around the passageway.

"What's that? A trading post?" I asked.

"It looks like pigmen, sire!" one of the knights called out. They marched in two columns of seven and I floated above them. The one disadvantage of having skeleton soldiers is that it is impossible for them to be covert. With every step they take a dozen of their bones make a hollow rattle. Because of this inability to move without making a ruckus, we met the pigmen not at the crevice, but some distance away from it.

The grunting, smelly pigmen formed two long rows, effectively blocking our passage. Each one had a golden sword and a rusty iron helmet. I have often wondered where they obtain the gold. The vaults beneath the Red Fortress could certainly use a few of those swords.

My columns of knights separated so I could descend between them. The pigmen watched expectantly, so I was duty-bound to give a small speech.

"Ahem. Good day, pigmen! Yours is a most honorable tribe that resides within the Crevice of Tragedy!" This was my greeting to them, though it was completely made up on the spot. I'd never heard of this tribe before. But everyone likes being called 'honorable' even if they don't deserve it.

They returned no greeting, so I went on. "I am King Wither, lord of this realm. My knights and I seek passage through the mountains on our way to the Glowstone Port." I paused here, but still the pigmen remained silent. "Ahem! We seek passage! Through the, um, through the mountains."

"These pigmen are dull, just push past them," whispered Left Head.

"Once again, I wish you good day!" I called out. "Wither knights, forward march!"

The knights made only one step before the pigmen had all drawn their swords and bared their teeth at us.

"What is the meaning of this?" I demanded. "You live on my lands, therefore I am your king! Stand aside."

One particularly chubby pigman stepped forward from the rest. "You no go!" he grunted. "This not wither land, this pigmen land!" The others snorted in approval.

"This is my land, isn't it?" I whispered to Righty. He nodded. "Ahem, yes! Yes, this is my land, and I shall pass through it as I please. Stand aside!"

"No go!" the chubby fellow repeated.

"No?" I asked.

"No," he confirmed with a shake of his head.

"Why don't you listen to your king?" I asked.

"You not my king! I no vote for you," said the pigman. The others chuckled at this, but I didn't understand the joke. Lefty later explained it to me.

The knights formed a semi-circle behind which I descended for a moment to discuss this problem with my advisors. The pigman folded his arms and waited.

"What should we do?" I asked.

"We have knights and they are pigs," said Left Head. "I say we make bacon out of them."

"Oh dear, no! That's awful!" exclaimed Right Head. "No, no, we must simply talk to them awhile longer, learn why they won't let us pass, and then rectify the situation."

"Yes, I agree," I said. "I can't eat anything that talks."

"I'm using metaphorical language!" Lefty hissed. "We have knights with iron swords, they have puny golden swords. Let's destroy them and burn their village to the ground!"

"That doesn't sound very nice," I mused.

"Let's just ask them more politely and try to see their point of view," said Right Head. "My mother always said that talking is preferable to fighting."

Lefty sputtered. "You don't—we don't—we were formed by a dark magic ritual, fusing soul sand to decapitated skulls! We have no mother!"

"...no? Then who was...?" Righty trailed off, lost in his thoughts.

I had to interrupt. "I'm going to take Right Head's advice on this one. I don't feel like battling our way through the Crevice of Tragedy. It would ruin this majestic landscape." And so I returned to the chubby pigman and asked him why he would not let us through the passage.

He narrowed his piggy eyes at me and said, "We no respect you authority. Pigmen want vote. Pigmen want democratic elections!"

"Demo...what?" I asked, bewildered. They must have been speaking piggish, because I couldn't understand them at all. That's when the leader raised his sword in their air. My knights immediately unsheathed their iron weapons and prepared for a fight.

"FREEDOM!" shouted the pigmen with one grunting voice. They charged at us with such ferocity that I was forced to immediately call a retreat. My knights scattered and were chased along the foothills of the mountain range until they were nearly driven into Lava Lake. Finally the pigmen gave up and returned to their village.

So we must make haste around the mountains if weare to reach the Glowstone Port in time...

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