And so began the dangerous quest of our brave heroine Dinky Doo Hooves, Paper Squire, and her wise guide Marelin. They set out from Chateau Hooves, which had been wisely placed within short distance of the local market. On normal days, peasants of all varieties strolled about making their daily purchases from traders both fair and foul. On this dark and ominous night, few of the village regulars roamed.
“We must make for the market,” Marelin declared, waving her ever-glimmering and surely powerful staff towards the distant locale. “There we shall find the first Hero of the Kitchen.”
“Well said, Marelin.” The Paper Squire applauded her guide’s choice words – clearly she knew her role well.
“Of course! I have been studying, y’know.” Marelin offered a wink. “Just as I know you have been, right, oh noble squire?”
“I have.” The Paper Squire nodded enthusiastically. “I even almost have levi… l-levti… levitation down.”
“Good to know! Now come along, we shouldn’t keep the first hero waiting.”
“Right!”
Thus did they begin their journey, the squire and the mage, across the dark night of Ponyville. Ever mindful of her duty as town protector, the squire kept her eye out for goblins, gargoyles, flimflams and the ever-icky Schmooze. By fortune or fate, none of these things seemed to be out on this most ominous of nights. She did see a few lazy zomponies on porches and tricky paper bats hanging from trees, and she could have sworn those jack-o-lanterns were looking at her funny. Still, all knew to keep their distance, for she was the legendary Paper Squire!
Okay, so maybe she wasn’t legendary quite yet, as Marelin fastidiously pointed out, but she’d get there someday.
As they approached the bridge leading to the market, voices arose in the cool night air. Marelin proved curious. Knowing the potential dangers, the Paper Squire valiantly offered to lead the way. There, behind two great trees and standing beside the roaring river, stood a lovely princess with a bright red mane and a dress made of shallots. To Marelin’s and the squire’s dismay, she appeared to be beset by a pair of ruffians donning cloaks and cardboard armor.
“You’re not a princess,” laughed the short, green one. “Princesses have crowns. Or are you the Princess of Braces?”
“Yeah,” the tall, orange one added, “braces!”
“And are those onions? Oh, so you must be the Princess of Stink!”
The tall one guffawed. “Good one!”
The princess, trembling before her oppressors, carefully hid her mouth behind one dainty hoof. “It wath lath minute. You don’t have to be tho mean!”
“Heeeey,” the tall one rumbled, his long neck craning around the young damsel, “she’s got a sword.”
“Hah!” The short one threw his head back and scoffed. “Princesses don’t use swords. Only knights can use those!”
The distraught princess stepped back from them, tears welling in her eyes. “But… but my dad…”
Suddenly, the Paper Squire bounded forward, placing herself between the princess and the ruffians. “Leave her alone!”
The knaves fell back before her righteous anger, the taller one tripping and falling in his hasty retreat. “Who are you supposed to be?” the shorter one asked.
Dinky flung her cape back in a gallant display, but the papery cloth proved too enraptured with said gallantry and came back to wrap around her face. It took her precious seconds to pull back the rebellious accessory, during which time her new foes chose to mock her display. So coarse and battering were their words that the Paper Squire forgot her stalwart duty in favor of fighting a most un-squire-like display of liquid pride.
It was then that the wise Marelin strode onto the scene, her staff shaking the earth when she struck it to the ground. “What do you two think you’re doing?”
Before Marelin’s magical might, the two ruffians ceased their mockery and trembled. “H-hey, we were just kidding,” the smaller one insisted.
“Yeah, kidding,” the taller one mimed, his head hidden behind his companion.
“You should both know better than to pick on other ponies.” Marelin’s eyes shined with the fury of her words. She aimed her staff at the two of them. “What are your names?”
The tall one raised his head in befuddlement. “Uh, but you know our names. We’re Snips and—”
The smaller one delivered a harmless blow to his comrade, ending his confused statement. “I’m Tom Dumb,” he declared dramatically, waving his dagger of polished wood in the air. He pointed it at his companion, who busied himself trying to get his own weapon out of its sheath. “And this is G’rain the Adventurer!”
Marelin observed the pair with a haughtiness befitting her status. “G’rain’s cloak was red, and Tom Dumb had a beard. You should have done more research on your costumes, boys. Think on that before you attempt to lecture others.” Her staff waved to the shallot-endowed princess, who had busied herself with calming the Paper Squire. “By comparison, The Lady of Shallots’ dress is almost perfect! You both should be ashamed. Why, she even got the sizing right, as indicated from the Chronicles of…”
And so did the famed wizard use her greatest weapon to best her foes: the dreaded Lecture of the Ages™. So long was her diatribe, so detailed her knowledge, that the two ruffians were rendered to harmlessness. Even the dear Princess of Shallots – a poor civilian casualty – was not entirely spared from her verbiage. Only the Paper Squire, who had been a devoted student of the great mage, was unaffected by a most epic spiel capable of making the ears of lesser mortals bleed.
“Please, great Marelin!” Tom Dumb begged as the two ruffians prostrated themselves before her, “no more! We’ll do whatever you ask!”
“Yeah, make it stop!”
Marelin did smile upon her vanquished foes, and turned her gaze upon her protégé. “And what, dear squire, would you recommend we do with these poor ponies?”
Though so young as to have no mark of identity, the Paper Squire was a good student, and knew a test when it presented itself. She considered all she’d learned from Marelin before standing tall before the trembling ponies. “Come with us,” she declared, extending her hoof in friendship. “We’re on a quest to appease Nightmare Moon! If we succeed, maybe the Princess of Shallots will forgive you.”
“A wise choice, my apprentice,” Marelin pronounced, rewarding the Paper Squire with a smile. “What say you, G’rain and Tom?”
The ruffians agreed instantly, thrilled at the prospect of going on a grand quest with the courageous duo! Before they continued their journey, however, the Princess of Shallots approached the Paper Squire, holding aloft a sword of great splendor.
“Noble thquire, withz Marelin, thankth for coming to my aid. Pleath take thith thword ath a gift. It don’t fit my cothtume, anyway.”
The Paper Squire was humbled by this offer, as is befitting a pony of her statue. “Are you sure? Isn’t it a gift from your daddy?”
But the Princess of Shallots only offered a beatific, metal-laced smile. “I’m thure he’ll underthtand.”
Yet Marelin would not allow the Paper Squire to wield just any weapon. She scrutinized the princess’s sword with a studious eye, testing it for sharpness and weight and, perhaps, a special enchantment or two. When she completed her inspection she was naught but smiles.
“This is a fabulous sword of only the best foam!” she announced before proffering the weapon to the Paper Squire with great reverence. “It is more than befitting a hero of your stature. Oh Lady of Shallots, please give my compliments to your father on his fine craftsmanship, as well as my promise to return such a priceless weapon once our adventure has ended.”
Thus did the Paper Squire claim a blade of great power, a proper weapon to protect her and her allies from foes both great and small!
At least until bedtime.