The Reluctant Adventures of Pigglebottom Broadsword

Chapter Five

The next morning, Pigglebottom began the task of packing up his tent (which had to be dried out first) and resumed his journey. He would have to head in a North-Westerly direction to reach Femidome, the capital of Kroydome and his former home. His stomach growled as he folded his tent to a now-postcard size and resumed his journey. Having run out of everything but gort cheese, he decided he had packed far too lightly for what was turning into an unexpectedly complicated task, and resorted to relying on one of his least-honed skills; hunting. He'd previously spent many a cold winter night on the streets of Femidome with his mother, attempting to catch rats or anything else that would crawl into their traps. Unfortunately for their family, his mothers' wealth had all but dried up after setting up the Adventuring company for Baron due to unforeseen costs such as Baron's expensive armour and hair extensions. Thus, they had been bled dry, causing them to fend for themselves or starve whilst Baron gallivanted around the kingdom. His mother possessed frighteningly impressive skills when it came to hunting due to her especially un-emotional streak which enabled her to kill even the cutest of creatures without a second thought or the shedding of a tear. Pigglebottom lacked his mother's ferocity and, as such, would frequently cry as he stared into the eyes of an animal that his mother had caught and splattered its brains all over the floor. She advised this was the easiest way to put them out of their misery, however, he always noticed a wry smile grace her lips as she engaged in the 'merciful' smashing.

Pigglebottom walked on an empty stomach for 2 hours in the now-burning morning sun before reaching the end of the grasslands. As he hadn't seen another living thing in the entire time he'd been walking across the area, he instead decided that hunting was best left to a more densely populated area as his chances would surely increase exponentially. Onwards he trudged as the cries from his empty belly grew louder with every step. After some time, Pigglebottom's eyes lit up upon reaching a stream with relatively clear running water. Fishing was a pastime he had always enjoyed, however, it was more the relaxing nature of sitting next to running water rather than the sport of catching another animal that he enjoyed. He would sit at the Femidome Trickle for hours on end staring into the rather strong-smelling water, feeling a sense of calm and serenity whilst throwing whatever inedible sea creatures he would catch back into the water. Pigglebottom sat down cross-legged in front of the water, and from the lining of his poncho he produced a long thin stick and proceeded to rip a thread from his clothing to attach it to the end to create a makeshift fishing rod. He decided he would use his remaining piece of gort cheese as the bait as, after the previous night's dream, he was wary of it and desired to get rid of it as quickly as possible, if it helped him to acquire tastier and less-fear-inducing food then that was fine with him.

The gort cheese bobbed up and down on the surface of the stream like a Kroydomeian bobbing for Crapples at the Summer Cliff Festival, but without copious amounts of saliva dribbling into said water. Pigglebottom wondered what delicious delights lay in the river before him, this particular stream, far away from the polluted cities, was one of the few places that fish still existed in, the seas themselves were far too polluted which drove the fish elsewhere. It had been years since Pigglebottom had tasted fresh fish, the thought of it made his mouth drool and his stomach howl like the Great Werewolves of Lycanthry. In Pigglebottom's mind's eye, countless mackerel, carp and cocks (a type of river fish), all with brightly coloured scales which glistened in the sunlight, danced in circles shouting 'don't worry, its ok if you eat us' in unison. After what felt like a lifetime, the gort cheese suddenly dipped below the surface. Pigglebottom's eyes lit up as he vaulted towards the fishing rod and grasped it with all his might, attempting to pull whatever was on the other side towards him. He pulled and pulled with every ounce of his somewhat non-existent strength, whatever it was it had to be something big and delicious, he thought, before seeing a large dark object rise to the surface. Pigglebottom pulled and pulled, his stomach growling ferociously, eventually, the rod gave way and flung the catch onto the riverbank next to him.