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“We go inside?” Gurgi trembled, clutching on Taran’s arm.

“Yes, Gurgi,” he gulped, trying to sound as brave as he could. Taran had no idea what to expect at this point. He took in a deep breath and began climbing the stairs into the castle. Doli fluttered behind, twiddling his fingers.

“We’ve got some nerve to be here right now. That weenie King gives me the heebie jeebies!” grumbled Doli as he kept flying alongside Taran and Gurgi.

Many of the vultures kept hypnotically circling around the castle, haunting the two nervous creatures. The stairs that wrapped around the castle were extremely difficult to climb because the castle was so high, but they persisted, huffing a bit along the way. The air was getting much colder, causing Taran to have a bit of a small headache. Gurgi kept nuzzling Taran to keep climbing, for the sake of encouragement.

Taran, Doli, and Gurgi continued climbing for a while until they heard some shouting and some echoes of deep voices echoing from inside the castle walls. Taran became worried and Gurgi still kept shaking as they climbed. Suddenly, they heard clanking footsteps approaching and they dodged the foreign shadow through a large crevice in the wall. The stout, chrome armored guard grunted, moving his googly eyes around where Taran and Gurgi were standing previously, but saw nothing, so he kept trolling on. Taran and Gurgi sighed in relief. They continued squeezing through the crevice, smelling dirt and moist air as they crept forward.

“Allow me to fly ahead Taran, I shall see what is inside the castle. I know it won’t be a pretty sight!” Doli said, and he took off to fly into the castle window. Taran watched him leave, noticing Gurgi still clutching tightly to him.

The echoing sounds of voices were getting louder. Taran also noticed the crevice getting wider, which made it much easier for them to walk through. In a few moments, Taran noticed a small ray of light, just a few feet in front of him. He tip toed and peeked through the hole that the light was coming out from. With his small eye, it was just large enough for him to see what was happening....

Down below, it was a large throne room. Lit by large fiery torches, Taran could see the ugliest creatures: warty trolls with massive feet, vampire bats hiding in corners of the walls, sneaky rats trafficking between their feet, and small yet rough-skinned gargoyles that pounded the floor in excitement. Rabid Wolves with foam oozing from their mouths, howled as four stout guards, similar to the one before, were carrying a large basket. Taran watched the guards approach a broken throne with a large shadowed figure, wearing a torn hooded cloak and a tall eerie staff, waiting for the basket.

Once the basket was laid down on the steps where the shadowed figure stood, he pounded his staff into the ground, ordering silence. Taran almost stopped breathing.

“My servants,” a voice hissed loudly. “ You have carried before you something that I am certain will be the epitome of our noble fate. For you see, what is inside here, I have been searching eagerly for many years and now, by a stroke of luck and by the stealth of the Hawkgriffins” he motioned to the skeletal birds that Taran remembered from the Forbidden forest, “We have succeeded in its capture!”

More roars erupted for a few moments, and the staff pierced the ground again.
“Now, let us reveal the mystic creature...” he hissed.

With a wave of his bony hand, the cover was thrown off the basket. He pointed over to another skeleton with an enchanted flute and the hypnotic tune caused Nen-Wen to rise his head above the basket. He slithered upward slowly, his eyes were focused on the Horned King

“No!” Taran gasped, reaching out his hand in mid-air.
The Horned King grinned and admired the snake’s every move. He was observing him closely, clearly examining if his minions caught the right creature.

“Yes, yes!” the Horned King exclaimed. “This is the creature! All my years of searching and here he is! I am much closer to the Black Cauldron now I can taste it!” he cackled.

His servants grinned in relief, there would be no punishment tonight for their dim-witted mistakes.

“Now, to find the Cauldron, we must figure out how to reveal its secrets... after all, snakes are attracted to water...” he tapped his chin with his sharp bony finger, his eyes turned downward to a servant standing near him; he was holding a pail of water. The servant placed the pail near the Horned King’s feet, the charmer moving the snake closer and closer to the water...

“Now snake. Reveal your secrets to me!” he thundered.
“No!” Taran shouted. He leaped from the open crevice, and landed with a hard thud against a group of drooling trolls. The trolls surrounded him, preventing him from escaping.

“Well, well, and why should I stop little imbecile?” hissed the Horned King.
“He’s not yours! He can’t reveal his secrets to you!” Taran panted loudly.
“Oh? Can’t he now? Trolls! Bring the intruder to me!” he ordered.

The trolls grabbed him by his arms and legs and lifted him over to the Horned King and threw him down like a rag doll. Taran was more nervous now. His heart was beating rapidly, he couldn’t tell if it was beating anymore. Sweat dripped down his neck and he rubbed the dirt off his cheeks. He looked up to the Horned King. He could feel the sting of his red eyes against his innocent soul. He was inches from the cold hard staff; he gulped at the wicked skull face of the King.

“Listen boy, we can do this the hard way,” he pointed his staff at the Trolls as they were punching their hands and chuckling, “Or we can do this my way,” he snickered.
Taran looked around; Gurgi was still hidden in the crevice, watching below. All of the Horned King’s servants were extremely impatient and moved closer to Taran, some of them raising their weapons. Taran had no choice; he would be killed if he didn’t get Nen-Wen to reveal the truth.

He sighed and went over to Nen-Wen. “Come on boy, you have to tell them,” he whispered kindly.

Nen-Wen’s eyes glowed a bright orange and the water swirled about in the pail. It became glossy like a window, and the story began...

There were flashes of the Forbidden Forest until they approached a swampy area, with heavy fog that faded away to reveal an old house. It was drenched with moss, with loose boards and shattered windows. The water around it was murky and gray; there was no living thing that could survive where this house was. Taran was confused; even some of the servants were scratching their heads and shrugging.

“What is the meaning of this?” the Horned King exploded in frustration. “I didn’t ask for an abandoned swamp house! I am looking for the Cauldron!” he clenched what was left of his rotting teeth.

Nen-Wen was about to continue when a glowing object zoomed right into the water, splashing the water against Taran’s face. Nen-Wen was awakened from his hypnotic state and hissed in panic, slithering out of the basket and squirming through the servants.

“Nen-Wen! Come back! Not that way!” Taran tried to command Nen-Wen, but the scene became chaotic. Gurgi jumped down out of the crevice, while many of the guards and servants attempted to snatch Taran and Nen-Wen.

“After the traitors!” shouted the Horned King, as he aimed his staff at the runaways.
In the middle of the chaos, Taran lost Nen-Wen since many of the guards interfered with his path. He dodged arrows and spears that zoomed over his head and passed his sides. He huffed as he ran down the halls. He turned his head to look back as he was running and his foot punctured a hole in the ground, and he fell through weak wooden boards, down several feet onto a hard stone ground. It was damp and dark. Taran rubbed his head and noticed he was all alone.

“Gurgi?” he called, but his voice echoed against the walls. It smelled terrible from the dirty water and sewage that passed underneath his soaked feet. Rats scurried at the sound of his echoes.

“Gurgi?” he called again, as he kept walking, but still no sign of him. As he walked through the sewer, it became lighter and lighter; there were some torches lit up ahead. Taran ran to the light, hoping for a way out....

All he found was a dungeon cell. The bars were sealed tight; inside them were skeletons of dead men, crumpled in a large pile in the corners. Taran shuddered and turned to the left. Another dungeon cell was filled with more skeletons with slightly more flesh.

“Hello?” he called out. The dungeon cells were beginning to creep out Taran, until he approached a plaque that was written with gold lettering nailed to the brick wall, but it was covered with dust. He blew the dust off and read the letters:

“Here lies King Odgar, Long Live the Righteous King.”

Taran raised a brow, until he heard footsteps.

“Odgar was a Righteous King wasn’t he? By the way, how did you get down here?” a light voice echoed behind him in the darkness. Taran was no longer alone.

Description
“We go inside?” Gurgi trembled, clutching on Taran’s arm.

“Yes, Gurgi,” he gulped, trying to sound as brave as he could. Taran had no idea what to expect at this point. He took in a deep breath and began climbing the stairs into the castle. Doli fluttered behind, twiddling his fingers.

“We’ve got some nerve to be here right now. That weenie King gives me the heebie jeebies!” grumbled Doli as he kept flying alongside Taran and Gurgi.

Many of the vultures kept hypnotically circling around the castle, haunting the two nervous creatures. The stairs that wrapped around the castle were extremely difficult to climb because the castle was so high, but they persisted, huffing a bit along the way. The air was getting much colder, causing Taran to have a bit of a small headache. Gurgi kept nuzzling Taran to keep climbing, for the sake of encouragement.

Taran, Doli, and Gurgi continued climbing for a while until they heard some shouting and some echoes of deep voices echoing from inside the castle walls. Taran became worried and Gurgi still kept shaking as they climbed. Suddenly, they heard clanking footsteps approaching and they dodged the foreign shadow through a large crevice in the wall. The stout, chrome armored guard grunted, moving his googly eyes around where Taran and Gurgi were standing previously, but saw nothing, so he kept trolling on. Taran and Gurgi sighed in relief. They continued squeezing through the crevice, smelling dirt and moist air as they crept forward.

“Allow me to fly ahead Taran, I shall see what is inside the castle. I know it won’t be a pretty sight!” Doli said, and he took off to fly into the castle window. Taran watched him leave, noticing Gurgi still clutching tightly to him.

The echoing sounds of voices were getting louder. Taran also noticed the crevice getting wider, which made it much easier for them to walk through. In a few moments, Taran noticed a small ray of light, just a few feet in front of him. He tip toed and peeked through the hole that the light was coming out from. With his small eye, it was just large enough for him to see what was happening....

Down below, it was a large throne room. Lit by large fiery torches, Taran could see the ugliest creatures: warty trolls with massive feet, vampire bats hiding in corners of the walls, sneaky rats trafficking between their feet, and small yet rough-skinned gargoyles that pounded the floor in excitement. Rabid Wolves with foam oozing from their mouths, howled as four stout guards, similar to the one before, were carrying a large basket. Taran watched the guards approach a broken throne with a large shadowed figure, wearing a torn hooded cloak and a tall eerie staff, waiting for the basket.

Once the basket was laid down on the steps where the shadowed figure stood, he pounded his staff into the ground, ordering silence. Taran almost stopped breathing.

“My servants,” a voice hissed loudly. “ You have carried before you something that I am certain will be the epitome of our noble fate. For you see, what is inside here, I have been searching eagerly for many years and now, by a stroke of luck and by the stealth of the Hawkgriffins” he motioned to the skeletal birds that Taran remembered from the Forbidden forest, “We have succeeded in its capture!”

More roars erupted for a few moments, and the staff pierced the ground again.
“Now, let us reveal the mystic creature...” he hissed.

With a wave of his bony hand, the cover was thrown off the basket. He pointed over to another skeleton with an enchanted flute and the hypnotic tune caused Nen-Wen to rise his head above the basket. He slithered upward slowly, his eyes were focused on the Horned King

“No!” Taran gasped, reaching out his hand in mid-air.
The Horned King grinned and admired the snake’s every move. He was observing him closely, clearly examining if his minions caught the right creature.

“Yes, yes!” the Horned King exclaimed. “This is the creature! All my years of searching and here he is! I am much closer to the Black Cauldron now I can taste it!” he cackled.

His servants grinned in relief, there would be no punishment tonight for their dim-witted mistakes.

“Now, to find the Cauldron, we must figure out how to reveal its secrets... after all, snakes are attracted to water...” he tapped his chin with his sharp bony finger, his eyes turned downward to a servant standing near him; he was holding a pail of water. The servant placed the pail near the Horned King’s feet, the charmer moving the snake closer and closer to the water...

“Now snake. Reveal your secrets to me!” he thundered.
“No!” Taran shouted. He leaped from the open crevice, and landed with a hard thud against a group of drooling trolls. The trolls surrounded him, preventing him from escaping.

“Well, well, and why should I stop little imbecile?” hissed the Horned King.
“He’s not yours! He can’t reveal his secrets to you!” Taran panted loudly.
“Oh? Can’t he now? Trolls! Bring the intruder to me!” he ordered.

The trolls grabbed him by his arms and legs and lifted him over to the Horned King and threw him down like a rag doll. Taran was more nervous now. His heart was beating rapidly, he couldn’t tell if it was beating anymore. Sweat dripped down his neck and he rubbed the dirt off his cheeks. He looked up to the Horned King. He could feel the sting of his red eyes against his innocent soul. He was inches from the cold hard staff; he gulped at the wicked skull face of the King.

“Listen boy, we can do this the hard way,” he pointed his staff at the Trolls as they were punching their hands and chuckling, “Or we can do this my way,” he snickered.
Taran looked around; Gurgi was still hidden in the crevice, watching below. All of the Horned King’s servants were extremely impatient and moved closer to Taran, some of them raising their weapons. Taran had no choice; he would be killed if he didn’t get Nen-Wen to reveal the truth.

He sighed and went over to Nen-Wen. “Come on boy, you have to tell them,” he whispered kindly.

Nen-Wen’s eyes glowed a bright orange and the water swirled about in the pail. It became glossy like a window, and the story began...

There were flashes of the Forbidden Forest until they approached a swampy area, with heavy fog that faded away to reveal an old house. It was drenched with moss, with loose boards and shattered windows. The water around it was murky and gray; there was no living thing that could survive where this house was. Taran was confused; even some of the servants were scratching their heads and shrugging.

“What is the meaning of this?” the Horned King exploded in frustration. “I didn’t ask for an abandoned swamp house! I am looking for the Cauldron!” he clenched what was left of his rotting teeth.

Nen-Wen was about to continue when a glowing object zoomed right into the water, splashing the water against Taran’s face. Nen-Wen was awakened from his hypnotic state and hissed in panic, slithering out of the basket and squirming through the servants.

“Nen-Wen! Come back! Not that way!” Taran tried to command Nen-Wen, but the scene became chaotic. Gurgi jumped down out of the crevice, while many of the guards and servants attempted to snatch Taran and Nen-Wen.

“After the traitors!” shouted the Horned King, as he aimed his staff at the runaways.
In the middle of the chaos, Taran lost Nen-Wen since many of the guards interfered with his path. He dodged arrows and spears that zoomed over his head and passed his sides. He huffed as he ran down the halls. He turned his head to look back as he was running and his foot punctured a hole in the ground, and he fell through weak wooden boards, down several feet onto a hard stone ground. It was damp and dark. Taran rubbed his head and noticed he was all alone.

“Gurgi?” he called, but his voice echoed against the walls. It smelled terrible from the dirty water and sewage that passed underneath his soaked feet. Rats scurried at the sound of his echoes.

“Gurgi?” he called again, as he kept walking, but still no sign of him. As he walked through the sewer, it became lighter and lighter; there were some torches lit up ahead. Taran ran to the light, hoping for a way out....

All he found was a dungeon cell. The bars were sealed tight; inside them were skeletons of dead men, crumpled in a large pile in the corners. Taran shuddered and turned to the left. Another dungeon cell was filled with more skeletons with slightly more flesh.

“Hello?” he called out. The dungeon cells were beginning to creep out Taran, until he approached a plaque that was written with gold lettering nailed to the brick wall, but it was covered with dust. He blew the dust off and read the letters:

“Here lies King Odgar, Long Live the Righteous King.”

Taran raised a brow, until he heard footsteps.

“Odgar was a Righteous King wasn’t he? By the way, how did you get down here?” a light voice echoed behind him in the darkness. Taran was no longer alone.