The wind wafted through the park, catching our hero’s cape; trapping his arm as he gesticulated his plan to his sidekick.
“Two sec – stupid piece of – there get back behind my back,” Baron Redmere jostled the cape behind his back amidst a sea of expletives, before returning his attention to Squire Greenoak. “Right, as I was saying, the noble’s house is that-a-way, behind that line of trees. The scroll is held in the deepest depths of its dungeons, behind locked doors and protected by the Lord’s pet basilisk.”
“The scroll, the magic scroll, the scroll of magical energy, that scroll?” asked Greenoak.
“Bingo, Greeny. The mission is simple: infiltrate the building, bypass the guards, find a way into the dungeon, break open the aforementioned locked doors, and fell the basilisk. Any questions?” Noticing his breath being stifled by a rogue booger, Redmere shoved a pinky up his nostril, rummaging around for a moment before flicking the offending morsel to the ground.
“Just one, what’s the going price for a fascist’s head these days?”
“That’s what I like to hear, Greeny!” Redmere patted his sidekick on the shoulder, before striding off towards the park’s edge.
“I was serious.” Greenoak stood stock-still while Baron Redmere continued his advance.
Noticing his partner’s absence, Redmere turned around, scratching his chin stubble, “Oh, err, I think the communists are paying something like 2 gold a head.”
“Good enough for me,” Greenoak collected his battle-axe from the ground, and jogged towards Redmere.
Today's prompt: bingo
If you'd like to participate too, the contest can be found here: @mariannewest/day-1580-5-minute-freewrite-thursday-prompt-bingo
