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    The King in the Pipe

There was once a powerful and great king long ago in the golden ages called Yotoe. King Yotoe ruled over the Summer Islands. One day his alchemists came to him with a proposal. “We believe we have found a way into the Kingdom of the Gods.”, the Director of the Alchemists announced to the king in a hall hearing he had called. “You have? Is such a thing possible?” the king asked. “We do believe so, we thought that for something this monuments we should seek your word before we complete our first test.”

The King agreed, selecting his top ’silver tongueddiplomat to be the first to send a message to the gods. This was a joyous occasion for the king, never before had he met anyone who was his equal. All his subjects were stupid and weak in his comparison. But now, finally, with the meeting of the gods he would finally have an equal to speak with. The king ordered all of the Islands alchemists to work on the door and all of the most skilled writers to collaborate together to write a greeting letter to the gods.

After many months and much coin the door was finished. Masho Kolt, the silver tongued diplomat, armed with one of the most expensively produced documents in the Islands was ready to walk through the crystal powered door. The door was powered, and a wild gust blew through the crowded testing room. Witness to this great event were all the finest alchemists, writers, nobles, and government officials in the Islands. Kolt took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

There was no way to know how long it would take for the diplomat to meet and speak with the gods, however everyone though it would have taken longer. After only twenty minutes the door activated yet again and out came Masho Kolt. There were only a few short moments of silence before the roar of questions from the small crowd.

The king demanded silence and the spoke, “Kolt, what news have you?”Masho Kolt’s face showed disappointment, “Great King, I traveled to the realm of the gods. However, I only made it to the gates. The people there, who were unlike any people I have ever seen, said the god in the castle would speak only to you, my king.”

And so the king prepared an assembly of some of his greatest guards, writers, and alchemists to attend his meeting of the gods with him. After many hours everyone was chosen and gathered they once again met in the room, ready to enter the door. A group of no more than twenty of the finest people in the Summer Islands.

“Gentlemen, this is a day that will go down in history. We will be the only people in our day, the first since the days of history, to see living gods. Our named will go down in history. Everyone of you are the best in what you do, and I will leed you to the very gods themselves.”

The king himself lead the group through the door and into the other side. After a bright flash of light the king found himself in the middle of a field, about three hundred yards from the gates of a large castle.

The king looked to his side at Masho Kolt, “Is this it?”

“Yes, my king. The guards at the gate over there”, Kolt pointed towards the large gate directly in front of them, “turned me away.”

The group, lead by the king, walked to the two guards standing in front of the gates. As the king got closer he noticed they were not normal people. Their eyes were dull and much to small, their ears were elongated at the top, and they were much shorter and thinner than any man he had ever seen; not standing over four and a half feet. As the group approached the guards they did little more than glance towards them.

“Greetings, I am King Yotoe. I have come from the great kingdom of The Summer Islands. I have come to seek an audience with your god.” the king announced to the guards. The guards, without ever so much as looking at the king stood without motion. After a moment, one of the guards slowly took a single step forward and hit the head of his spear against the door.

The door opened, revealing a large hall and dozens of these little people, hundreds of paintings and tables full of treasure, and lavish things of all kinds. However, none of the men in the group noticed any of that as all of their eyes were fixated on what lie directly at the end of the massive hall.

Daig; the frog god. All of their lives they had read of him, one among the many gods. They had seen drawing of him as a large frog with human-like hands and bat-like wings sporting a large iron pipe. However, the drawing did his size no justice. He stood easily taller than three small homes.

The men stood there for a good minute before the king walked forward towards the god. He stood tall and proud, knowing that the mere humans behind him were frozen in fear.

“At least, Diag, the frog god, we have met.” the king spoke in a bellowing voice. Diag sat in his throne towering over the king for several seconds, periodically inhaling from his pipe. “This is how you address your god?” Diag finally spoke.

The king was baffled, how could a god known for his intelligence address him in such a way? “Well, how should I address you? Surly not as I would a stranger.” The god took a long smoke from his pipe and slowly released it from his lungs, “You speak to me as if we are equals.”

Again, the king was baffled. Surly, he must not realise who he is talking to. “Equals? I am the King of The Summer Islands!” Daig, with surprising speed, plucked the king off of the ground by his cape and placed him in the bowl of his pipe. The god then took a long hard drag of the pipe and spoke with the smoke seeping out of his mouth, “You taste pretty average to me.”

The guards after seeing their king killed, drew their weapons. Daig, already tired of the interruption of his evening inhaled to the point that his body almost no longer could fit inside the hall. He then let out a jet of mud, washing away the group of people and pouring into the door leading back to the castle. The mud was in such a volume that when it rushed through into the castle it covered the castle, along with many of the building around it. Resulting in a section of the capital being buried in a hill of mud.

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