A casual dungeon delving adventure in the tongue-in-cheek, typography inspired land of Fontia.TIME CHECK: 8.30 AM, San-serif, The 5th of Wingdings.
It began with a croak.
Well, it was really more of a gurgle. It was the sort of sound that begins low in the throat, a gurgle followed by a sudden, desperate gasp for air akin to what, to a pregnant frog, might sound like a croak.
It was followed, shortly after, by a crash, a scattering of cornflakes, a thud, and a pretzel, rolling its merry way under the kitchen counter.
Now, gentle reader, consider this:
Would I attempt to enveigle you into an enterprise couched merely in onomatopeaia? Nay, I would not. 'tis but a precursor to things to come.
"'twas something for the history books", said the lead in the Garamond Times.
It was a front page exclusive, fresh off the word press. "Shock! Horror! Consternation!" were plastered about the tabloid sized document, and its headline read, in gaudy red, "Well-kerned wizard chokes to death on a pretzel".
How exactly did Wizard Bookman perish? The article was rife with speculation. There was talk of curious circumstances, conspiracy theories involving the filthy Arials, alien abductions by the Colonnans, secret rites and handshakes, the 'hurhurhur'ing of the Maiandrans and their Alan Rickman lookalike Marshal, indigestion, and Thog. (What exactly was Thog? No one knew)
In rather fine print, seemingly appended to the article to make column space, was a rather unremarkable addendum. The wizard, it seemed, was survived by three apprentices.
It might as well have been a mere footnote. There were things about in the Holy Empire of Garamond, and politicking (with the 'k'), was commonplace.
And it would have been a footnote, if not for a rather heated exchange in yea tavern between the wizard's apprentices, talk of an heir to the wizard's fortunes and a Will hidden deep in the bowels of an abandoned steel mine 5 leagues east of Remington...
And that, my friends, is where our tale, a tale about five leaded adventurers and their apprentice charge, truly begins.