*disclaimer: things randomly pop in my head sometimes, this is one of them. I am not endeavoring to make fun of anyone. And to be clear, I do advocate eating healthly and being a good steward of the land we live in. So as you read, remember I can and am also making fun of myself too. 🙂 My goal is that you’ll enjoy a good laugh and face the rest of the day renewed and strengthened. :)*
Alonarg was one of those people whom you rarely hear about, mostly because he did nothing prestigious and he died young.
He was gluten-free, a plasticite (meaning he avoided the use of plastic as much as possible), an anarchist (which is why he joined the Armies), an insectipacifiophiliast (basically he believed harming insects or bugs of any kind –except spiders– was wrong), a galartinousicharfican (this is someone who abstains from wearing any kind of glass apparel-to be fair, this really is a separate story, but basically Alonarg’s great-great grandfather, Inihccuz the Great, actually invented glass armor, including a convex-style design for a warrior’s rear end (he called it Crystal-Rear), and, although very bright, he had not encountered tempered glass. As the story goes, he was climbing up a mountain pass at the head of his Division of Armies, clad in Crystal-Rear, and at some point stumbled and landed hard on his behind. Legend has it that Inihccuz had to crawl down the rest of the mountain, and was dubbed…well, anyway…Alonarg had developed a fear of wearing any glass armor or clothing after hearing that story, even though in some areas it was definitely a trend. Today we would call it ‘hip’. Back in Alonarg’s day, it was referred to as being ‘shard‘. ), a minisculist (someone who sees small pieces of dirt on other buddies’ armor), and a Laitnereffid (his political association).
He was also a vegan, long before being vegan was cool.
He thought it was cool, which was why he was vegan. This is also partly the reason he died young. Being vegan, he simply didn’t get enough calories and protein to enhance the long and tough life most of his warrior friends were sharing….that is, the ones that didn’t get killed in the process of their rather violent lifestyle. Because one simply doesn’t get enough protein from tofu.
Especially tofuack, which is what Alonarg ate instead of MREs, back before MREs were cool, too. Tofuack was essentially tofu hardtack, and it was rather bland, rubbery, and essentially devoid of any nutrients. But Alonarg was committed to being vegan, and so he ate it. How, I am not sure, since he was also a sodiuminian, which basically means he didn’t eat salt, either. He did put a little sodium-free soy sauce on his tofuack, which he claimed made it much better, but if you ask me he would have been ahead just to eat the bean right off the soy plant and call it good instead of dividing it up into tofu and soy sauce.
He was also a big fan of kale. Now kale was actually good for Alonarg. It was also good for his friends. However, they rarely got to eat it, since usually the only time they would see kale plants was when they came sweeping into a village to ransack it, and by that time not only had the villagers left, but they had also made a quick last harvest of all their kale. With the result that Alonarg and his warrior buddies were usually reduced to eating the kale stalks, chopped up and put into a stew.
Alonarg, of course, being vegan, ate his share of chopped kale stalks in his own little sodium-free, certified fair trade, organic hand spun blue clay kettle, made without disturbing the roots of any rain forest trees and guaranteed to lower the carbon footprint of anyone who ate anything prepared in it by at least 3/10ths of a millimeter every time one took a bite. Of course, the man who certified that blue clay kettle forgot or didn’t think about the fact that Alonarg and all others of his unique persuasion would be building a wood fire underneath the kettle in order to heat up whatever was inside, thereby not only using wood (cut down from a tree) and hauled to the camp (by a cow, possibly burping the whole way), but also bringing water and whatever else was in the kettle to a boiling point; and as every good scientist knows, every time a boiling water bubble pops, a Californian buys a Prius. Also every time one pops, it emits 2/16ths of a milli-milligram of CO2 into the air.
But that is beside the point. Basically Alonarg always very haughtily and ostentatiously prepared and ate his humble (and tasteless and probably disgusting) repast out of his blue clay kettle while everyone else enjoyed a good rabbit-deer stew with kale stalks boiled in a cast iron kettle. Life wasn’t too bad for Alonarg’s buddies, even in the rain forest.
However, Alonarg and his buddies hadn’t quite gotten to the rain forest yet. That was Alonarg’s goal, of course, but being in the military, he had to obey orders, and at present the orders were to march to Emaercypsirc, about 3 furlongs south of Recnac.
Emaercypsirc was holding out against the recent order of King Nagev of Yvehc (who was the Chief Commander of the Armies in which Alonarg was a member), who, with the valiant help of his Armies, had recently invaded and conquered the land of Drof. All of it, that is, except the southern Esebo Province. King Nagev and his Armies had the Province cut off from the help of surrounding countries, but as of January 19, 981, they had as yet been unable to bring Esebo to its knees.
For six months, Nagev and his Armies had been holding Esebo in siege.
For six months Alonarg had gone out every day to the meadow behind the camping grounds of the Armies and gathered chickweed, wild plantain, stinging nettle-using gloves for that, of course- (he used certified fair-trade, organic, certified RealTru-Fake imitation leather gloves (harvested sustainably by the Diving Peasants of Deewaes, off the coast of Crete) which was then pressed naturally and sun-dried on an early pre-cursor of Trex decking, before being sewn together with organic, non-GMO, hand-harvested, low-CBD, tall-stalk, purple-cloved* hemp fibers into glove shape), water-hemp, cellulite, and green apple leaves for his natural daily salad, full of vitamins and minerals to keep his vegan self in good health. It did not do much for his strength, and it is true that he did have to use the out-tent an awful lot, for long periods of time, but he didn’t usually view it as wasted time, as he could catch up on the latest issue of The Daily Tunhtlaeh.
However, it appeared that those easy days of meadow-salad-gathering and long hours spent in the comfort of the out-tent, perched on a portable exhaust disposal seat were over, and it was going to be back to tofuack and kale stalks for awhile.
Alonarg sighed. He took one last bite of his mineral-laden salad and chewed thoughtfully. His round eyeballs took in the empty bowl in his lap and he sighed again. No more salad. At least til they reached Emaercypsirc and could settle down again. He hoped there would be lots of kale gardens and such in the surrounding area.
Which of course showed how little Alonarg really knew about Esebo as a province generally, and Emaercypsirc in particular. Historically, Emaercypsirc had been the doughnut capitol of the Western World as Alonarg and his warrior friends knew it, even though the doughnut itself had been invented in a small bakery in a small village on the edge of the Black Forest, down somewhere in Bavaria. So it has been researched and established for at least the last thirty years.
In Emaercypsirc alone, there were 37 doughnut factories, all with their own ‘secret family recipes’ handed down from generation to generation, in between famines and floods and plagues and the Black Death and one or two invasions from the Vikings.
Emaercypsircians took doughnut making and consuming very seriously, it really was considered an art there, and many of the residents rarely ate anything else. Not only did this throw the vital health statistics for the entire country out of whack, it also put undue pressure on the East Indies and Jamaica, as far as sugar supply went, which is why—(well that’s another story)
Anyway, one would have been hard-pressed to find a vegetable garden or even a flower garden anywhere in Emaercypsirc or the surrounding villages. They grew wheat, sorghum, canola, and baking soda.
Incidentally, the soda stalk (from which baking soda is derived) was developed by P. Gnikabados in 467 AD. (not to be confused with P. Gnikabredwop, who discovered a white substance in some drained swampland in the southern part of South Esebo that was rather similar, in fact.)
Anyway, P. Gnikabados became rich and famous, (before becoming sick with sodastitus and eventually dying in a forgotten corner of a rest home in the slums of Emaercypsirc,) with the domesticated soda stalk, with the result that South Esebo soon became the top baking soda exporter in all of Drof. Alonarg was from Yvehc, directly north of Drof.
All of which to say, that Alonarg had absolutely no idea what he was getting into, heading into Esebo without even picking an extra day’s supply of salad, and he happily looked forward to the salads in the camping grounds that would be sure to surround the city they were to besiege.
Of course, after two solid weeks of marching through miles of thick spring mud that was so thick it basically chewed through one’s boots, and eating nothing but tofuack (cold tofuack at that) for two solid weeks, and only needing the out-tent once in all those solid two weeks, Alonarg was definitely looking forward to some R and R on the outskirts of Emaercypsirc.
On the 15th day, the Armies came over a little rise and there, down below them, was the city of Emaercypsirc. Tall brick chimneys rose here and there from the 37 doughnut factories. Alonarg, bless his little vegan heart, thought they were tofu manufacturing plants and got all excited talking at length about all the farm fresh tofu he was going to eat while they were busy besieging Emaercypsirc, until Klaw, the warrior closest to him, finally muttered, “Dude, they’re not soy factories.”
Alonarg stopped short in surprise and turned around to face Klaw, behind him, and almost speared Klim, who was to his left. That was because Alonarg, as usual, did not have his spear straight up and down, like he was supposed to, but straight out at his side. Klim glared and grumbled something unpronounceable, sidestepping while he did so, and accidently shoved into Tac, which threw Tac off balance so he tumbled into Tibbar. Tibbar was in a bad mood already, as Alonarg that very morning had come up, sniffed into Tibbar’s morning coffee, declared it unfit and inhumane for warrior consumption as it was not produced from organic, certified free trade, hand-harvested, slow-picked, sun-ripened, naturally fertilized coffee beans, and dumped it out before the surprised Tibbar could even swallow his last gulp. Alonarg had then passed on, endeavoring to find someone else who was not abiding by the high standards Alonarg believed everyone should abide by, especially when in the Armies.
By the time Tibbar had ground some more coffee beans, roll call had been announced and it was time to pack up and hit the road. Or, in the Armies’ case, hit the mud.
This thought threw Tibbar into an even worse mood, as the heels of his boots had been sucked off by the strength of the deep road mud the day before, and remembering it made him angry. He shoved back against Tac, who was pushed back into Klim, and Klim, angry already, poked his spear into Alonarg’s rear end.
Alonarg’s rear end was not exactly large, but it was completely unprotected, because he was used to having to need to run to the out-tent, or, when on the road, to a nearby bush or tree, (though with these last two weeks, as we have already mentioned, he had not) quite often, and it did not suit him to have to take off a couple layers of rear-end armor before pulling down his warrior-pantaloons and letting nature take its course.
As a result, Alonarg abstained from all forms of rear-end armor; metal, plastic, hemp fiber, glass…particularly glass.
Anyway, when Klim poked his spear tip into Alonarg’s rear end, Alonarg yelped and leaped. He went yelping and leaping down the hill in front of the whole Division of Armies he was in, and finally tripped on a particularly large South Esebo snail and landed head first in the soft South Esebo mud, sliding several feet before coming to a stop.
Here is the conclusion of the first chapter. Let me know what you think, I hope you enjoyed it, and if you figure out the names, good job. 🙂