The Return of Molgoth

“It is foretold Thaddeus.”

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The old man’s brow furrowed as he looked at the empty glass that had been placed in front of him.

“Many things are foretold Jacob. They do not all come to pass.”

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Jacob filled the glass and pushed it towards Thaddeus. “He is here. And he has greater power then ever before. You taught him well.”

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Thaddeus sighed. “Perhaps too well. There is no other way?”

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Jacob shook his head. “None. It is our only protection against enchantment.”

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The old man drained the glass before wincing and hissing through gritted teeth. “Then gather the others, Jacob. There is not much time.”

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The crowd was becoming restive as Jacob prepared to address them. What could he say to these simple people about what was to come?

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They knew the name of Molgoth the Usurper. They knew that he spoke with the dead, that he walked with shadows.

They knew that he could not leave his dreaded citadel where he had been imprisoned so long ago, bound by the weight of his own crimes to wander its cold halls forever.

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They knew to stay far away from it, not even to look upon it on days when sky was clear and they could see its shape on the horizon. Now he was free. What could Jacob tell them to reassure them, after all the stories that had been told to warn them?

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He looked at Thaddeus who nodded slowly and attempted to stand up before crashing, flailing, to the ground. He was clearly ready. But what of these, simple, people? Could they be made ready?

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He motioned for them to be silent and the elders within their ranks urged them to obey, to hear what the wise man had to say. Jacob swayed slightly, “Listen, you guys. Right, there’s like, this big wizard guy and he’s really powerful and stuff...”

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He was suddenly distracted by Thaddeus attempting to stand up by grasping the sacred cloth draped over the table of wisdom and pulling himself up.

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It, predictably, was not anchored sufficiently to assist him. It came free and he tumbled back down again, a holy goblet bouncing off his head on its way to the ground. Jacob motioned for silence again, “He’s alright, he’s fine. Honestly. He’s fine.”

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Jacob tried to recall what he had intended to say. His thoughts were clouded. He took another drink from the sacred chalice of protection which one of the handmaidens offered him...

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“Right, like, this big mad wizard guy or whatever, so he’s got these crazy lightning bolts and stuff, right. And they’ll, I mean, pfff, totally, like...” He motioned with his hands in front of his eyes, trying to convey the idea of lighting coming forth from them.

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But his words wouldn’t come. He tried again, “We must pray to the gods. Pray to Amgar, to Hargok and to that other one with the big feet that’s kind of like a lizard or something but that can stand up and stuff and walk about. Thaddeus, pal, what’s he called again?”

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Thaddeus, with some effort, rolled over onto his back and attempted to untangle himself from the sacred cloth. There was motion from underneath it for a few seconds before it ceased.

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Thaddeus, apparently admitting defeat, spoke from underneath the sanctified material, now stained with mud. “Kal...Kalgar. The green one. Kalgar. God of hunting stuff.” Jacob briefly stumbled, almost knocking over a handmaiden...

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“Sorry, sorry. I just slipped. Right, Kalgat. The lizard guy. Pray to him.” A voice came from beneath the hallowed cloth once more, “Kalgar. He’s an amphab...amphilb...he’s a big frog...” The cloth fell silent again.

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Jacob nodded vigorously, leaning on a handmaiden for support and pointing at the man-shaped cloth lump on the ground, “That’s right. I knew that! He’s a big frog! That’s amazing isn’t it? Imagine being a great big frog! That’s crazy! Fair play to him!”

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“Anyway, so right, like, pray to them and stuff so the big wizard guy doesn’t come here and like, you know, pfff...” He raised his arms gesturing, pointing to the crowd and the village around them while making “pew, pew” noises.

“Like he could just get you all and stuff. So, like, this big frog guy, Kalgow or whatever...”

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He looked at the snoring cloth on the ground, checking for disapproval or support only to find none was forthcoming...

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“Like, he’ll maybe just...sort it out, y’know? Pure, just, frog magic stuff, just deal wi’ it. Pew! Pew! Pew! Just like that. No bother.”

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The sun was low in the sky and Jacob felt the sudden need to pass water before night fell.

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“So, but, right, if he doesn’t...if the big frog man doesn’t take this guy in hand and deal with it, we have to protect ourselves. I don’t want to see any of you like, hurt and stuff. No, no, no...”

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Jacob shook his head, uncomprehending, as if the very thought was too distressing to contemplate.

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“No, no, no. Can’t have that. That is...Not. On. Not at all. I don’t want any of you hurt. The big man, Froggy or whatever has to be at this from the get go!”

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“You can’t be hurt,” He pointed at someone in the crowd. “Especially you, Dargan, because you’re like, my best mate. Like, me and you against the world mate, that’s how it’s always been.”

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Dargan looked at the ground, avoiding Jacob’s gaze.

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Jacob could not concern himself with Dargan’s misplaced modesty when it came to how they had always been best friends from like, way back or whenever. He waved it away, momentarily over-balancing before being caught by two handmaidens and gently lowered to his knees.

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The crowd followed his example and knelt to pray to the outsize man-frog who was their prospective saviour but soon found they had misunderstood when Jacob stumbled to his feet again, assisted by the struggling handmaidens.

“Right, here’s what we do if the big frog is MIA on the night. Have a drink. Look, just, a few, I mean, I know my limit. But make sure when Willie the Wizard or whoever turns up you’re fit for nothing. Then his magic is, like, pfff, like, just rubbish and everythin’.”

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Jacob shrugged in an exaggerated manner and his countenance displayed such puzzlement that the whole crowd waited to hear his next utterance to divine his meaning.

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“Like, he’ll be like, ‘Pew! Pew! Pew!’ And you’ll be like, ‘Pfff. Doesn’t bother me.’ And he’ll be like, ‘Oh no! My magic isn’t working at all on these guys! I’m totally going home and everything!’ You know?” All in attendance nodded.

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Jacob suddenly became excited by the story he was telling, “And, right he’ll be like, ‘OH NO!! Look at that big frog guy like...flying and stuff over there!’ Seriously!”

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Jacob stretched his arms out as if imitating some kind of flying machine. “OH NO! HE’S A BIG FLYING FROG MAN WITH FIREBALLS AND STUFF! I’M, JUST, LIKE, OUT OF HERE AND OFF HOME! RIGHT NOW!”

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The crowd nodded again, but more slowly this time, and some members glanced at each other furtively, considering this new information. Jacob put both of his hands over his face and burped before continuing, “What was I saying? I can’t remember.”

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“Oh, incidentally, did I ever tell you about a great book I read by this guy or something where it was about, like this hotel in a place called Portpatrick and there’s this little boy and these soldiers and a war and it was great.” The crowd looked at Jacob blankly.

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“No, so right, like he’s got this uncle that looks after him and it’s like...sad. But it makes you think, y’know. And I dunno if he ever published it. He totally should. I can’t really remember much more just now but it was brilliant, seriously.”

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“Apparently he’s written like, loads of them.” As the people in the crowd began to consume the drinks that were being provided Jacob just sat nodding to himself. A handmaiden passed him another drink. “That stuff about the book? Was that important?...”

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“Was there a message for everyone that they need to understand?” Jacob looked at her, one eye squeezed shut so he could concentrate. He looked puzzled, “What book?” And he lay down and slept. For battle was about to be joined. But it would probably be fine.