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An attempt at humour in the era of Dink.
There was once a kingdom. They had a feudal caste system. They had many knights and pages. There was a vast mountain range to the south called the "Grand Tetons". Well .. It was only half vast. To the north was the forbidding chain of mountains called the "Yellow Fingers".
I suppose the suns radiance created a muted yellowish glow upon the peaks. The mountains were tall spires that gave the impression of hands and fingers reaching skyward. From the spires, a horde of evil warriors spewed forth. The King sent his knights to do battle with them. The journey was a least 50 miles on foot. A long walk by any standard. None of the brave knights returned. He sent more Knights. Same results. The Knights were gone. More evil warriors poured from the northern spires. In desperation The King asked for volunteers. A lowly Page came forth and offered his services.
The King, aghast, but desperate, offered him weapons from his armory. The Page smiled and declined. He would go into battle with his broom. The Page left to the north amidst the cheers of the populace. He proceeded to make a "clean sweep" of the northern invaders, and send the evil horde packing, never to be seen again.
Of course the moral of the Story:
"Let your Pages do the walking thru the Yellow Fingers"
Be well...
There was once a kingdom. They had a feudal caste system. They had many knights and pages. There was a vast mountain range to the south called the "Grand Tetons". Well .. It was only half vast. To the north was the forbidding chain of mountains called the "Yellow Fingers".
I suppose the suns radiance created a muted yellowish glow upon the peaks. The mountains were tall spires that gave the impression of hands and fingers reaching skyward. From the spires, a horde of evil warriors spewed forth. The King sent his knights to do battle with them. The journey was a least 50 miles on foot. A long walk by any standard. None of the brave knights returned. He sent more Knights. Same results. The Knights were gone. More evil warriors poured from the northern spires. In desperation The King asked for volunteers. A lowly Page came forth and offered his services.
The King, aghast, but desperate, offered him weapons from his armory. The Page smiled and declined. He would go into battle with his broom. The Page left to the north amidst the cheers of the populace. He proceeded to make a "clean sweep" of the northern invaders, and send the evil horde packing, never to be seen again.
Of course the moral of the Story:
"Let your Pages do the walking thru the Yellow Fingers"
Be well...
