Kwest tale 1: building a fantasy world using a thinly veiled narrative involving a bee-man OR Kwest 1 (the one that isn’t a sequel)

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Summary

Kwest! A land named after Quentin Kwest who wasn't that great! In fact you could argue that his input was minimal at best but, they named the realm after him so he must've done something.

Genre:
Humor
Author:
Tom Lewis
Status:
Complete
Chapters:
1
Rating:
n/a
Age Rating:
16+

Chapter 1 (the only chapter so far)

Another day in the realm of Kwest… Not named because most of its inhabitants on are usually on quests but actually named after the Grand Mr. Quentin Kwest of Journey Street. Mr. Kwest had a habit of speaking his mind, running his mouth (detaching it with a magic spell sold to him by a flashy dwarf merchant) and wearing expensive clothing woven from the finest silk (although this was actually a fallacy because, there’s only one creature that produces silk in the whole of Kwest; the silken-man-worm). Mr. Kwest was known for marrying a hobbit and also playing a role in Kwest politics; to this day no one knows exactly why they named the realm after him…

Anyway! Forget all that history nonsense because, other than being used as a feeble framing device for yet another fantasy world the story of how Kwest got its name matters not one single iota. We’re going to follow the story of a Bee-man; bee-men in Kwest aren’t considered all that strange and are known to be highly friendly and affable. They are largely known for going out on quests involving acquiring pollen, bee men don’t really know why they collect pollen and if you were to ask one why? They would reply “’cos its summint to do enit!”

Our story follows Adrian Beemeister Bee man of apartment 2B on Noneofyourbeeswax Road. Adrian awoke this morning (that’s right they mornings in Kwest but oddly the time of 13:34 doesn’t exist, the clock just skips over from 13:33 to 13:35; Sorry another tangent to bulk out this fantasy world that’s just been created) to the sound of bin-man questing to collect all of the rubbish using his bin-manly powers of rubbish collecting and beeping. Upon waking up Adrian said “Right! Time to get up!” To which the alarm-man exclaimed “Hold on a minute mate! Take five more bleeding minutes because, I need to sound the alarm then! I got into this stupid alarm quest and now I can’t get out of it!” Beemeister replied “Well that’s not my fault! I have to find myself a quest for today!” “Fine” exclaimed the Alarm-man.

Following his morning ablutions Beemeister decided to see the Mighty wizard of Magic Street (don’t blame me! I’m just narrating this drivel!). Beemeister took it upon himself to get off his lazy stripy abdomen and walk down the Golden breezeblock road (copyright issues… Because James Franco is so awesome! Did you see him in that film I’m not allowed to mention?). On his way Beemeister ran into Jack Elephant who wasn’t an elephant but in fact an ele-mant (yes another hybrid! Thankfully this didn’t become a sequel to the island of Dr. Moreau as originally intended by the halfwit that wrote this). Ele-mants tend to go on quests that involve the horn section of most orchestras however despite their impressive trumpeting, orchestras nowadays in Kwest tend to sit in silence for hours on end only to finish their shows with gregarious standing ovations from the pretentious fatted duck-men (really?) who are too ignorant to see past their bills (physical and household). “Lovely day today isn’t it?” Said Jack. In that moment Beemeister knew the trumpeting git wanted something. “Your thorax is looking trim. Have you been working out? Oh! Haha! Been! Get it? BEE-n! Haha! Because you ‘re Beemeister and.. Haha!”

“What do you want Jack?”

“Me? Oh nothing… Well I do have a question to ask you.”

“(exhales) Okay, go on then.”

“Why is there a man following you? Providing sarcastic comments at every turn in order to somehow convey humour?” (dick).

“Oh him! He’s on a narrating quest.”

“Fair enough, anyway I have an orchestra to quest with. See ya!”

“Whatever”

After running into his neighbour for reasons that totally weren’t to do with bulking out the story in any way Beemeister turned the epic left onto Magic Street (epic left’s are like turning left except you turn 360 degrees to the left… You have to see one! I’m not going into any more detail). As Beemeister approached the wizard’s door he couldn’t help but notice the ten O’clock sundown and the one minute past ten sunrise (see there is more to this fantasy world lark than ghosts and orcs… Although no one really likes orcs because, everybody is a little bit orcophobic).

Knock knock

A voice from behind the heavy wooden (Oh you get the point! We’re leading into a knock knock anti-joke)

“Who’s there?”

“Beemeister”

“Beemeister who?”

“Beemeist’ve gotten up late to not get a quest today.”

“By all accounts my son, I should not let you in however you owe me a fiver” (obviously five Kwestles).

… and thus the heavy door swung open and Beemeister entered (shocking stuff I know) as Beemeister entered he noticed the wizard in great detail (even though he’d seen him a thousand times before but for your benefit we’re going to describe him). A long flowing blue cloak covered the wizards presumably skinny old body and atop his snow white hair sat a bright orange pointy hat (the fashion police are on their way) surprisingly the wizard didn’t have a beard which made visiting him a bit disappointing to be honest.

“Why are you here my son?” said the wizard whose name wasn’t important (but if you’re interested he’s called Clive)

“Well I was wondering could I ask you a question?”

“You just did! That’s another fiver.”

“Bollocks! Ok nevermind, anyway…”

“Swearing! That’s another fiver!”

“Okay fine! Anyway..”

“Exclaiming! That’s another fiver!”

“You just exclaimed five times.”

“Cheekiness! Another fiver!”

“Okay, look here’s 25 Kwestles. Do you have any quests that I can do?”

“No.”

THE END

(Really?)

YES
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