Tempokai
Overworked One
- Joined
- Nov 16, 2021
- Messages
- 596
- Points
- 133
A bedtime story.
Ah, gather 'round, dear friends, as I recount the illustrious tale of the time our beloved rogue, whom we shall lovingly dub "Goldheart" for reasons that will soon smack you in the face with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, managed to be both the hero and the most sought-after piece of treasure in the kingdom. Yes, you heard right—a heart of gold, literally. Not metaphorically, because where’s the fun in being virtuous when you can be an actual walking, talking treasury?
Once upon a moderately interesting day in the kingdom of Greedsville—a name chosen by the tourism board for its honesty and lack of visitors—Goldheart was performing his daily routine of swindling the rich to feed the poor, or more accurately, swindling the rich to feed himself. All was going as planned until he found himself on the wrong end of a witch's curse. You see, he attempted to steal a necklace that was as cursed as a sailor's vocabulary. The curse? Turning his heart into solid gold. Because, of course, nothing says "punishment" like making someone an invaluable asset in a world obsessed with wealth.
Word of Goldheart’s new... ahem, condition spread faster than gossip in a small town, catching the ears of the local noble, Duke Avaricious. The Duke, whose moral compass was as reliable as a blindfolded navigator, decided that he must possess this golden heart. Because, why chase after pots of gold at the end of rainbows when you can chase a rogue with a golden ticker?
Thus began the Duke’s descent into madness, a journey so filled with obsession and poor life choices that it would make a soap opera plotline seem reasonable. Duke Avaricious deployed his vast resources, including but not limited to: mercenaries as discreet as a marching band, spies who couldn’t spell "subtle," and bards to sing of his quest, because nothing says "secret mission" like a public soundtrack.
Goldheart, meanwhile, found himself in a predicament. Being wanted was nothing new to him, but being wanted for his heart rather than his head? That was novel. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony. Here he was, a man who’d spent his life guarding his heart from emotional attachments, now having to guard it from literal theft.
The chase was as ludicrous as it was lengthy. Duke Avaricious, with all the finesse of an elephant in a china shop, made attempt after attempt to seize Goldheart. There were close calls, dramatic confrontations, and enough narrow escapes to make you question the competency of the Duke’s forces—or at least their ability to catch a man whose most notable feature was supposedly a heavy, gold heart.
In a twist that shocked exactly no one, our rogue found the solution to his golden problem in the most clichéd of places: the very witch who'd cursed him. Turns out, all Goldheart needed to do to reverse the curse was perform a genuine act of kindness. Yes, dear readers, the cure for his golden heart was, metaphorically, a golden heart. The irony was not lost on him, nor on the witch, who had a sense of humor as dark as her potions.
In the end, Goldheart managed to not only keep his life but return to his regular, non-metallic-hearted self, by saving the Duke from an assassination attempt. An attempt, mind you, that was as poorly planned as the Duke’s own efforts to capture Goldheart. The rogue couldn’t resist the opportunity to add insult to injury by revealing his identity to the Duke in the process, leaving the nobleman to realize he had been bested by the very man whose heart he’d sought to steal.
Duke Avaricious, in a display of gratitude as genuine as a three-dollar bill, offered Goldheart any reward within his power. Goldheart simply asked that the Duke invest in the kingdom’s orphanages and hospitals. After all, a heart of gold beats strongest when it’s used to better the lives of others, or so the moral of the story goes—if you’re into that sort of thing.
And so, our tale comes to a close, with the rogue roaming free, the Duke slightly less mad and a touch more charitable, and the kingdom of Greedsville living up to its name a little less. Let this story be a reminder that sometimes, having a heart of gold can be more trouble than it’s worth—especially if someone else decides they want a piece of it.
Once upon a moderately interesting day in the kingdom of Greedsville—a name chosen by the tourism board for its honesty and lack of visitors—Goldheart was performing his daily routine of swindling the rich to feed the poor, or more accurately, swindling the rich to feed himself. All was going as planned until he found himself on the wrong end of a witch's curse. You see, he attempted to steal a necklace that was as cursed as a sailor's vocabulary. The curse? Turning his heart into solid gold. Because, of course, nothing says "punishment" like making someone an invaluable asset in a world obsessed with wealth.
Word of Goldheart’s new... ahem, condition spread faster than gossip in a small town, catching the ears of the local noble, Duke Avaricious. The Duke, whose moral compass was as reliable as a blindfolded navigator, decided that he must possess this golden heart. Because, why chase after pots of gold at the end of rainbows when you can chase a rogue with a golden ticker?
Thus began the Duke’s descent into madness, a journey so filled with obsession and poor life choices that it would make a soap opera plotline seem reasonable. Duke Avaricious deployed his vast resources, including but not limited to: mercenaries as discreet as a marching band, spies who couldn’t spell "subtle," and bards to sing of his quest, because nothing says "secret mission" like a public soundtrack.
Goldheart, meanwhile, found himself in a predicament. Being wanted was nothing new to him, but being wanted for his heart rather than his head? That was novel. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony. Here he was, a man who’d spent his life guarding his heart from emotional attachments, now having to guard it from literal theft.
The chase was as ludicrous as it was lengthy. Duke Avaricious, with all the finesse of an elephant in a china shop, made attempt after attempt to seize Goldheart. There were close calls, dramatic confrontations, and enough narrow escapes to make you question the competency of the Duke’s forces—or at least their ability to catch a man whose most notable feature was supposedly a heavy, gold heart.
In a twist that shocked exactly no one, our rogue found the solution to his golden problem in the most clichéd of places: the very witch who'd cursed him. Turns out, all Goldheart needed to do to reverse the curse was perform a genuine act of kindness. Yes, dear readers, the cure for his golden heart was, metaphorically, a golden heart. The irony was not lost on him, nor on the witch, who had a sense of humor as dark as her potions.
In the end, Goldheart managed to not only keep his life but return to his regular, non-metallic-hearted self, by saving the Duke from an assassination attempt. An attempt, mind you, that was as poorly planned as the Duke’s own efforts to capture Goldheart. The rogue couldn’t resist the opportunity to add insult to injury by revealing his identity to the Duke in the process, leaving the nobleman to realize he had been bested by the very man whose heart he’d sought to steal.
Duke Avaricious, in a display of gratitude as genuine as a three-dollar bill, offered Goldheart any reward within his power. Goldheart simply asked that the Duke invest in the kingdom’s orphanages and hospitals. After all, a heart of gold beats strongest when it’s used to better the lives of others, or so the moral of the story goes—if you’re into that sort of thing.
And so, our tale comes to a close, with the rogue roaming free, the Duke slightly less mad and a touch more charitable, and the kingdom of Greedsville living up to its name a little less. Let this story be a reminder that sometimes, having a heart of gold can be more trouble than it’s worth—especially if someone else decides they want a piece of it.
