3strangeknightssaga

Prologue

It was after hours at the last Renaissance Faire of the season. My friends and I were sitting around a fire pit. We had just finished our dinner and were settling down for an evening of storytelling and reminiscing.

At a previous Faire I had told a story of Zombies attacking a Renaissance Faire. Some of the listeners played a part in the tale.

On this chilly November night, as my friends sat in folding chairs wrapped in warm blankets and cloaks, sipping their drinks. They looked to me and smiled.

“Tell us a story Uncle Teeb.

It was a little after 5:30 in the morning, the first weekend in June. I got up and got dressed. I kissed my sleeping wife on the forehead and went outside.

It was a beautiful cool morning. The false dawn painted yellow, red and orange hues across the sky as the sun started its journey over the Sierra Nevada Mountains to my East.

I took a deep breath of the cool morning air and stretched, loosening up my muscles. I wasn’t in too bad of shape for a 48 year old, but I was noticing a stiffness that hadn’t been there five years ago, and it wasn’t the cool ’Hey Baby, How you doing.’ kind of stiffness either.

I punched the code into the numeric pad and my garage door noisily opened.

While the door slowly rose, I dropped the tailgate down on my old Sonoma.

I turned around and peered into my garage. The equipment and gear that I used as a performer at Renaissance Faires was piled up ready to go. Behind the pile was a very messy garage. I winced at the site knowing that when I got back home from my trip I was going to catch hell. My wife had asked me to organize everything before I left and I had procrastinated.

If I made good money at the show I may be able to buy my way out of a severe tongue-lashing.

I started packing my gear into the truck.

Tent.

Check.

Clothes and Costumes.

Check.

Sleeping bags.

Check.

Chairs.

Check.

Ice Chest full of food and “drink.”

Check, Check.

Magic show.

Check.

Inflatable Flamingos.

Check. Don’t ask.

Everything important was packed and I was off to Valhalla.

Now in case you’re not into Renaissance Faires, I don’t want you to think I was on my way to the Viking Happy Hunting ground.

You see my name is Steve, and I am one-half of the comedy magic team of “Myth & Magic”. Valhalla is the name of a Faire near Lake Tahoe.

So now that I had all my things packed, I headed to the home of my best friend and partner in magic, Patrick ‘Snipe’ Reule.

Now Pat and I are a ‘Mutt and Jeff’ looking team. For those of you reading who are much younger than myself. That means we have different body types. While I am nearly six foot tall and average in size. Snipe is about 5’8” or 5’9” and built like a tank. To look at him you wouldn’t think he wasn’t very fast, but you’d be wrong. I was witness when a drunk made that mistake once. The guy had more alcohol than brains, and more mouth than vocabulary. He also had more bravado than technique. The drunk took a swing at Snipe, and from a flatfooted stance Snipe went all ‘Billy Jack’ and kicked the guy upside the head.

‘Billy Jack’ is a 70’s pop-culture reference. Google it.

However, I digress.

When I arrived at Snipes house, he had all his stuff piled up on the sidewalk and was waiting for me.

“Why is everything out here?” I asked.

Snipe answered, “I promised my wife I would have the garage cleaned up before I left. She looked in last night around 10:30. Noticing that it was still in disarray, she explained to me that my future happiness, not to mention my ability to father children, rested in a clean garage. I just finished.”

Inside I cringed at the foreshadowing his words held for my eventual return home.

He threw in his sleeping bag, his duffle full of clothes and a wooden crate I hadn’t seen before.

“What’s with the crate?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said.

Therefore, I didn’t.

We were off to Tahoe.

After nearly three hours on the road, we made our usual pee pee stop at a Truck Stop in Ripon we had become familiar with over the years.

While we were there we got a call from our buddy Trey the Professional

Show-off. He was already at Tahoe and he let us know that some of our other friends had also arrived. Like Kathy and Scott Hardwick. Kathy sold jewelry in her booth, ‘Much Ado About Something‘. Her Husband Scott was taking some time off from being a correctional officer. Robert of ‘Leather Mystics’ was there in his bio-diesel RV which he had christened ‘The Frying Dutchman‘. All of Northwinds Security, and assorted other friends were also in attendance.

We left Ripon and headed North on Hwy 99. Traffic was your usual Friday morning work commute. It slowed down every now and then but it wasn’t too bad.

We soon arrived at our turn off and headed East. We drove through the rolling hills joking and singing with the radio for a while. When we got tired of singing we listened to a new CD by Neidfyre. ( Mel’s music is the official sound track of Night Terrors)

When we turned on to Grant Line Rd. and headed North again, we noticed dark grey clouds gathering at the base of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Since it was the time of year when it can be 110 degrees in the valley and yet there could still be snow on the ground at Tahoe, we thought nothing of it.

We drove through the Sacramento area close to the area where Fair Oaks Faire is held and caught Hwy 50 east to Reno/Tahoe. We had been on the road awhile and were beginning to get a wee bit hungry.

We decided to stop in Placerville and go to KFC. We planed to get the official Travel food of “Myth & Magic“. Bucket O’ Legs. My mouth began to water just thinking of the golden fried goodness that we would soon be partaking.

After we had been on the road for a little over four hours we started up the winding Highway into the mountains toward Placerville.

I have always liked Placerville. It reminded me of the small mining towns that my Grandfather had grown up in the Smokey Mountains. Like Big Stone Gap, and Imboden.

The pace a bit slower, the folks friendly.

As the Truck wound its way higher and higher up the mountain the low clouds seemed almost fog-like as the air grew cooler and the sunshine was dimmed.

Snipe noticed what looked like huge spider webs hanging like Spanish moss from the trees. It also hung from the light poles that lined the freeway.

Finally we got to the Placerville exit and pulled into town. Placerville is a small town so we didn’t notice the lack of traffic immediately. We pulled into the parking lot of KFC. We parked the truck, got out and stretched our legs for a bit. Then we started toward the door. I was walking in front of Snipe. I had bought a huge 64 once Mountain Dew in Ripon and it wanted out. It wanted out bad!

When I reached for the entrance something slammed into my back and smashed me into the door. My glasses flew off and when I tried to turn around to see what had hit me, I found I couldn’t move. It was as if I were glued to the door.

Then I heard what I could only describe as a skittering sound.

Then I heard the tailgate of my truck open.

Then I heard Snipe yell, “EEYA!”

Then I heard a sound like boards breaking.

Then I heard a sound like a shotgun, but I heard it 12 times in rapid succession

Episode 3

I struggled against the gooey glop that held me to the door. I struggled even harder as I heard footsteps crunching on the asphalt, approaching from behind Me.

‘Snick,’ the glop fell away from me as Snipe sliced it away with his ‘Cold Steel’ pocket knife. (“Cold Steel” the official bladed weapons of ‘Knight Terrors’)

As the strange goop hit the pavement with a wet sounding splat, a thought ran Through my head, “I wonder what it would be like to have product placement in a Written story.”

Sorry, being Bi-polar, thoughts just rush through my head at the strangest times.

Sometimes it’s drive-by genius, other times its Maniacal Mayhem.

However, I digress.

As I turned around, I saw Snipe. Slung over his shoulder was his Sniper rifle. In His hands was one of the coolest things I have every seen. It was a shotgun, but not your ordinary everyday shotgun. Hell no, this shotgun had a large drum like magazine attach to the underside.

Snipe held it out to me.

A tear came to my eye.

“It’s, it’s beautiful.” I whispered. My voice catching in my throat.

“It’s a full auto shotgun.” Snipe said.

I lovingly caressed the short riot length barrel of my new toy.

Snipe slugged me hard square on the chin.

“Ow! What the hell?” I exclaimed.

“Had to break you out of it,” Snipe said, ” You sounded Like you were going to go all ‘Broke back’ on me.”

“I’m good.” I said, ” So what attacked me?”

” As close as I can tell,” Snipe answered, ” It was a Giant Spider.”

“A what?” I asked

“Spider, you know, arachnophobia and all that.” Snipe answered.

Snipe explained that as I had been walking to the KFC door, he had stooped down to tie his shoe. As he did he heard a ‘Thwipping’ sound from the far side of the truck. He then heard and saw me hit and become attached to the door. He stayed low, and waited for whatever it was to move, and sure enough it did. He told me he nearly said bad words as the spider crept past him on its way to what it probably felt would be a free lunch. He then busted open the wooden crate he had been so secretive about and produced the ‘Shotgun From Hell’ then thoroughly dispatched the eight legged giant to the aforementioned place of fire and brimstone.

‘Sweet!’

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