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SUPERDRAFT: Cast your Fantasy KINGDOM!


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PART FIVE- The Secret of the Prince


It had been a long day for King Stanton and she had swept into her chambers, pouring herself a glass of wine.  The challenges she faced daily was unlike any that a monarch had to face and she had been looking forward to unwinding all day long.  She lowered her hood and slowly sipped her red wine. The soft, warm breeze fluttered the curtains from the balcony.  


Is that open?” King Stanton thought, sure that she had closed it.


“King Stanton, I need to speak to you.”


King Stanton turned to the voice, staring into Neika’s young and sweating face.  Her eyes bulged in shock when Neika realized that she was looking at another female and not the “King” that she expected.  The confusion was written across Neika’s face.  


“Uh… what is…”


Before Neika could fully process what she was witnessing, King Stanton had her pinned against the wall, her arm pressed against her throat.  


“How dare you taint the sanctity of my sanctuary?  Your impropriety will cost you your head, little girl.  I shall summon the executioner and you shall be gone from this world within the hour.”


Unable to speak, Neika was surprised at the physical power of this woman. Desperate, beads of sweat rolling down her face, Neika tried to communicate without being able to form the words.  Mouthing “Jessup” over and again, praying that this woman would understand what she was trying to say. Finally, Neika dropped to the floor and Stanton stared down at her.


“What?” King Stanton said.  


“Jessup… it’s Jessup,” she said, grasping her throat.


“Speak up girl,” Stanton said.  “Why is my son’s name on your lips?”


“He is in danger.”


Within the hour, King Stanton, once more in full King regalia, paced before the armies of Galadral.  Wyldsyde stood stoically beside her. The secret was safe. Neika had convinced her that she had no interest in revealing anything.  It was not an easy sell to convince her that The Elder had tried to kill her and kidnapped Jessup, but King Stanton could see the sincerity in Neika’s eyes.  


“My son’s life is the only thing that matters,” said King Stanton.  “This is a terribly dangerous situation. The Elder is the greatest warrior in Galadral and his traitorous actions have tarnished his reputation and spat upon our kingdom.” Turning to Neika, King Stanton continued.  “Wyldsyde brought me this news at great personal risk to herself. She was tossed from a cliff, survived, climbed up the castle wall, survived, all to provide us information on my son. She has my thanks and respect.”


Wyldsyde bowed.  “Thank you, your majesty.”


“Her unique skills will help us follow the trail and find Prince Jessup,” said the king, pulling her sword.  “For Galadral!”


Her army raised their fists into the air, supporting their King, preparing to launch their full scale assault.  Little did they know what would be waiting.

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Lots of weapons seem to be coming in over the last day or two, so we'll follow that stampede.


Stolen from another studio:  Sting, the magic shortsword from The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings; its representation in the films works for us.  In our film it is THE holy blade, the Sword of St George, on long-term loan to the Marshal of Splato (George C Scott's Lord Borna) from Lepfene Monestary.  Among its powers will be rendering its wielder immune to unholy sorcery as well as burning demons with blue-white angelic fire. We retain its original-material size as a long knife or rather short sword, interpreting its history and form as being a late-Roman gladius, and (if anything) towards the short end of the size range for those.


EDIT: probably our next entry will come Monday, and with only three picks (Hero, Music, and Fantasy Race) and a bunch of colortext to come, that should complete our film.

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PART SIX- The Secret of the Prince


The soft touch slid down across his cheek, slowly bringing back to an awareness of his surroundings, something that he hadn’t had since the blow of the sword handle had sent him quickly into the depths of darkness.  His brown eyes flickered open and he tried to reach for the pain in his jaw, realizing that he was unable to move.


“Welcome back, Prince Jessup.  I am so glad that you are still with us.”


Jessup could not believe who stood before him.  Sebastian DeClercq had been banished from Galadral for some time and the wizard’s crooked smirk sent chills down his spine.  Jessup realized that he was bound by his arms and legs and dangling from a makeshift trestle. He spied his sword, shirt and boots piled in the corner.


“What is happeni…” Jessup began, spotting his betrayer standing off to the side in the strange cavern that hid him.  “Ogden? What have you done?”


The Elder did not respond.


“Neika!” Jessup exclaimed, memories flooding back as his confused state began to clear.  “You killed her, Odgen.”


“My,” said DeClercq, “that is quite the feral reaction, boy.  Did the young lady mean something to you? How sad.”


Jessup struggled against his bonds, but they were too strong.  Snarling, Jessup puffed his bare chest out in an attempt to look less pathetic.  It only caused DeClercq to laugh.

“Let me go, wizard,” demanded the boy.


“Now where would the fun in that be, Jessup?” said DeClercq.  “No, you have a role to play here and, I have to say, we cannot do this without you.”


“What are you talking about?”


“Aren’t you tired of the lies?  You’re but a boy… why do you need to keep the secrets of a kingdom?” taunted DeClercq.


“What are you talking about?”


“You know damn well what I am talking about, Prince Jessup.  The fact that the real King Stanton has been dead for years and that your wench of a mother has been imitating him ever since,” said the wizard.


Jessup glared in anger toward The Elder, the gaze burning like the fire of the sun.


“Oh, it was not Wetherby who told me this secret,” DeClercq said, noticing the deathly fire shooting from Jessup’s eye toward his former friend.  “I learned about that in my own special way. However, boy, the true secret is what compelled Wetherby to finally start thinking on his own.”


“What are you blathering about, DeClercq?”


“You know, Jessup, dear.  The fact that you are not the true heir to the throne of Galadral.  The fact that the man that your bitch of a mother has been pretending to be for so many years was sterile.  He was unable to have any children, so you could not have been his son. It was that truth that spurred him to take action against his bastard son and his faithless queen and which led to Ogden Wetherby, The Elder, taking his own violent action, mistaking the king’s rage for insanity and forcing his blade.  Ah, such a tragedy.”

Jessup’s face was a mask of horror.


“But...did you not know this truth?  Ah… it is almost too perfect,” said DeClercq.  


Jessup shook his head ever so slightly.  He did not want to believe the insanity that Sebastian DeClercq was spouting.  Jessup knew this man was crazed and evil, but he just could not shake the feeling that what he had said was true.  It made a sick sort of sense to the boy, filling in the gaps of what had been unknown.  


Another boy, who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than Jessup, cloaked in a purple cape, swept into the cavern.


“Master,” he said, bowing his head to DeClercq.  “Please excuse this interruption.”


“Prince Jessup, may I introduce to you my apprentice, McKai.”


McKai looked at the tressed up prince and smiled, his long dark, wavy hair framed his face like a horrible portrait.  Jessup could see a darkness behind his eyes and an evil as he had never seen before. There were some cracks in this young man’s sanity.


“Pleasure,” he said, a sadistic glimmer brightening his face.  Turning back to DeClercq, he said, “Master, the forces of Galadral are on their way.”


“Excellent news, McKai.  Shall we take a look?”


DeClercq began spinning his right hand in a counter-clockwise circular pattern and an image formed in the air.



“Ah, mommy to the rescue, Jessup,” he said, seeing King Stanton leading the troops.  Jessup looked at the magical imagery and he saw someone unexpected. DeClercq noticed it at the same time.  “Well, there is that little thief, Wyldsyde, side by side with Queen King. She’s doing quite well for a dead girl.”


DeClercq glared at The Elder.


“Too much to ask for you to finish the girl off, Ogden?” DeClercq said with sarcasm dripping from every word.  “How did she survive?”


“I do not know, DeClercq,” said The Elder.  “I threw her off a cliff. If she survived, good for her.”


“Yes, good for her,” he spit.  “She shall be just one more soul to witness the grand rebirth of this world, once more in the image of its creator.”


“What?” Jessup said, unsure he had heard the wizard correctly.


“Yes, punk.  I am here to return this world to what should have never been lost.  This world was once a world of chaos and that was lost for an eternity.  False utopias rose and fell over the centuries, all just a pale imitation of what came first.  Galadral the worst of all. First led by a king and then by his manipulating bitch using the name of the true god of this land... Stanton, Brother Chaos.”


“You’re insane,” said Jessup.


“Nay, child.  I am merely chaotic,” he said, removing from his cloak a dagger.  “This is the Dagger of Time. I have travelled far and wide to reclaim this artifact.  Every second is worth the trouble though because with this dagger, I shall return the world to the way it was destined to be.”


Running his finger across the blade, DeClercq turned to his apprentice.


“McKai, prepare the welcoming party for our dear Queen.”


“Yes, Master.”


“Leave her alone, monster,” Jessup said, struggling once again to try and free himself.  The futility of the attempt thrilled DeClercq.


“Soon, with the use of this magical blade, the rebirth shall be complete and the land that is hidden beneath us inside this cavern shall once again take its place above ground.  Because, this locale is the land that was once known as the City of Syn. Syn shall return. Once Syn is back, then shall the God of Chaos walk this world again.”


“You won’t get way with this, DeClercq.  We’re going to stop you.”


“Ah, such bravado.  You truly are an impressive lad.  How sad,” DeClercq said.


In a quick motion, the wizard turned the blade and drove it deep into the chest of Jessup.

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