The Warlock

                    The Warlock

Once upon a time in the Realm, there lived a Warlock. This was many years before Prince Charming and Percy were performing their great deeds of chivalry when the Realm was probably a simpler place without much of the silliness and depravity the reader will be familiar with.
This Warlock was the most powerful man in the Realm yet was a recluse and therefore did not interfere with the affairs of the surrounding Kingdoms. He spent his time in some caves in the middle of the Realm, accompanied only by his Gnome servant Plumtree who helped him guard the precious gems in the cave that had magical qualities.
Now the reader will probably be familiar with the type of magic peddled by the likes of the Sorcerer in the Realm. Magic that was unreliable at best given that the Sorcerer was erratic and seemed to specialize in casting malicious spells on creatures so their appearance was changed for the worse.
The Warlock was far more powerful by comparison. He studied ancient magic and knew thousands of spells that made the Sorcerer look like a mere amateur. He also created potions and elixirs using his cauldron that could do untold harm or good. Yet his wise insistence that he did not leave the caves and come into contact with other inhabitants of the Realm, ensured his powers had no influence on any of the Kingdoms whether benign or malign.
Plumtree had rather more knowledge of the world outside having travelled around it for several years before serving the Warlock who was somewhat naive and inexperienced by comparison.
“Oh, I am so bored,” the Warlock moaned one day as he stood at his smoking cauldron. “With my power comes great responsibility you know Plumtree?”
“Does it?” he asked as he puffed on his pipe.
“Yes, the responsibility of keeping well away from the business of others because my power is so great that it could influence or profoundly change the Realm! That’s why I am living like a hermit down here!”
“It’s very noble of you sir.”
“Noble? Pah!” he seized his hip flask and took a swig of brandy from it. “What’s the point of my magic if there’s nothing I can really do with it?”
“If you don’t mind me mentioning it sir?” said Plumtree a little awkwardly. “But you might be happier if you met someone?”
“I have met someone,” he said irritably. “In fact, I have met several people! You…my parents…”
“No sir, I meant a special someone.”
“What are you on about Plumtree?”
“A person, like you.”
“A person?”
“Yes sir, in a romantic way?”
“Romantic?” the Warlock didn’t sound like he recognized the word.
“Yes, when two people have amorous feelings for each other?”
“Well we have feelings for each other Plumtree? Is that romantic?”
“Certainly not!” insisted a horrified Gnome. “Anyway, what feelings do we have for each other? Exactly?”
“Well,” the Warlock was thoughtful. “I tolerate your company.”
“That’s not romantic,” the Gnome shook his head firmly. “Although for some it might be. Now come on sir, a man of your age must have had such feelings before? When you saw someone you felt attracted to?”
“No.”
“Not at all?”
“No although,” the Warlock lowered his voice confidentially. “I do occasionally get these strange urges.”
“Sir, why are you whispering? It’s just us down here in the cave. Nobody else can hear us?”
“Oh yeah of course,” he spoke normally once again. “Yes, I have these urges, usually first thing in the morning. It goes down after a few minutes but it’s most strange.”
“How long has this been going on for?”
“Since I was fourteen.”
“My word,” Plumtree exclaimed. “We need to do something about this! You need to meet…ah…well…”
“Yes?”
“I must ask as we live in the modern Realm,” said the Gnome. “It’s not like the bad old days! So then sir, if you were to have one of these urges right now, would you want to fulfil it with a lady or a gentleman?”
There was a long pause during which Plumtree was concerned that the Warlock might volunteer a preference for an alternative to the two choices he had been given.
“I’m not sure what you mean?” the Warlock finally said.
“Oh dear.”
Over the course of the next ten minutes, the Gnome explained the birds and the bees to the Warlock. This included a presentation by the Gnome along with him sketching out a whole host of pornographic stick figure drawings and detailed diagrams.
“My word Plumtree!” exclaimed the Warlock. “You seem quite the expert about all of this stuff!”
“I am a Gnome of the world,” he shrugged modestly.
“Is it a regular occurrence for that to happen?” the Warlock indicated the fifth drawing on the notepad. “There are three stick figures in that one?”
“Sometimes yes,” nodded Plumtree who had admittedly got a little carried away with his explicit illustrations.
“And that?” the Warlock pointed at the next one which featured five stick figures.
“Probably less frequent,” shrugged the Gnome before pausing with a faraway, distant look on his face accompanied by a half smile.
“I’d rather just focus on this one,” the Warlock pointed at the first sketch the Gnome had drawn.
“The missionary position?” Plumtree seemed disappointed. “Oh well, some prefer the traditional methods. So yes, this is what you need to be doing with a woman.”
“Which position would I take?”
“You’d be the one on top sir.”
“Who is the one beneath?”
“The woman,” he cleared his throat.
“What woman?”
“Well therein lies the problem!” the Gnome cried. “We need to get you out there.”
“Out where?”
“The Realm!” the Gnome rubbed his hands together. “To meet women.”
“The Realm? But that could take ages! Do you know how many women there are in the Realm?”
“I am hoping sir,” Plumtree sighed. “That you don’t have to meet them all. That could become tiresome. Hopefully you will meet a suitable match after encountering a dozen or so ladies.”
“And then I do that?” the Warlock pointed at the first sketch again.
“Not immediately,” Plumtree tutted. “There might need to be some wooing first.”
“What? Won’t she just get on with it straight after meeting me?” the Warlock frowned. “This all seems like a lot of effort!”
“Well you never know, you might meet a woman willing to do that,” said the Gnome. “As unlikely as it sounds. I should probably vet them for you beforehand in case that were to happen. Just to check they don’t have any mental health issues or learning difficulties.”
“I see,” the Warlock was again distracted by the sketches. “Is it possible to do that? Surely it would be bad for the back? And this one looks incredibly unhygienic!”
That afternoon they packed up a few belongings including food and clothing to go out into the Realm.
“We should reach some populated areas soon,” said Plumtree as they departed the caves. “Certainly by nightfall.”
An hour later they were both tired from the walking and the Warlock’s endless array of questions about what the Gnome had taught him earlier that day.
“So does the little frogspawn thing travel into the lady garden every time?” asked the Warlock.
“Not every time sir no,” sighed Plumtree.
“Is there a pond in the lady garden then?”
“What?”
“For the frogspawn to swim in?”
“I suppose so…” the Gnome was starting to wish he’d never led them down this path. “The lady garden is not literally like an actual garden you know.”
“No? But what about the vulva flower thing you drew?”
“What?”
“You know?! When the petals spread out from the bud?”
“I think you are getting ahead of yourself sir…”
“And this clusterous thing…”
“Clitoris sir.”
“Yes! I’ve never seen it in any garden?” the Warlock was indignant. “Is it one of those exotic plants? Like a Cactus or a Bonsai tree?”
“Can we change the subject please?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” the Warlock said before a thought occurred to him. “Plumtree old chap?”
“Yes sir.”
“Remind me again. What is the difference between a Gnome and a Dwarf?”
“Oh not this again…” groaned Plumtree.
“And midgets?”
“Sir, as I have said many times, Gnomes are smaller and probably more gentle creatures. I don’t think it would be much good to be more specific than that.”
They passed out of the forest they had been walking through and could see a Kingdom on the horizon.
“Is that what we want?” the Warlock asked.
“What? That massive Palace surrounded by a huge town and citadel?” Plumtree said sarcastically. “Oh, I doubt we’d find any ladies there.”
“No?”
“Come on sir! Let’s get there before nightfall, take a room at an Inn and explore the night life!”

A short time later they were in the town where they had paid for a room in an Inn before having dinner in a tavern.
“A woman?” the Warlock hissed to Plumtree as they sat at the table while a waitress approached with the menus. 
“Good, you recognize one. Positive start.”
They ordered stew and crusty bread with a flask of red wine. The waitress gave the Warlock a strange look as he had a goofy smile on his face whenever she went to their table.
“When does the stuff in the diagram happen then?” he asked Plumtree.
“Not yet sir,” the Gnome finished his stew. “And anyway, this woman might not be the one for you. We don’t know if she finds you attractive.”
“How do we know? Should I ask?” blurted out the Warlock.
“No, no, play it cool sir. I will read her body language and let you know what I think.”
The waitress arrived a moment later to remove their bowls. She gave the Warlock another frown before departing.
“What do you think?”
“Not a chance.”
“No? Because she frowned at me?” the Warlock’s face fell.
“No, because of the wedding ring she is wearing.”
“Oh, does that mean we can’t?” the Warlock cried.
“Let us say sir, it means you probably shouldn’t.”
“Oh.”
“We need a woman who is single.”
“Right!” he nodded. “Single.”
“And desperate…”
“Desperate?” exclaimed the Warlock.
“Yes…desperate to sleep with a Warlock,” Plumtree gulped back his wine. “You see, being a Warlock could help you. Some women go in for that sort of thing. Nonetheless, let’s go on to another Inn or tavern for more drinks and see if we can find the poor unsuspecting woman of your dreams.”
They left the place to the relief of the waitress and found another Inn across the street. It was crowded inside. 
“So then sir!” said Plumtree without examining who was actually in the room. “The world is your oyster! Look at all these lovely ladies!”
“Lovely ladies? Do most woman have beards?”
Plumtree finally did have a proper look about. 
“I admit there aren’t as many women here as we might have liked.”
The Gnome wasn’t wrong as the Inn contained exactly one female who was a hideous old crone smoking a pipe at the bar. 
“This romance business?” the Warlock eyed Plumtree. “I’m not exactly feeling it coming along?”
Suddenly the door to the Inn opened and two figures emerged. Both were wearing dresses but, strangely, also beards. They also wore wigs and rather a lot of make-up including red lipstick which was thickly planted on their faces despite their furry upper lips.
“Cor!” said the Warlock, shuffling in his seat. “Look at those two belters!”
“What?” Plumtree was puzzled. “Where?”
“Those two who just came in?” the Warlock said indignantly. “Now we’re cooking on gas!”
“But…but…” Plumtree had spotted the obvious.
The Ugly Sisters looked around the bar out of curiosity before the Innkeeper tended to them.
“Ladies?” he asked.
“Ladies?” gulped Plumtree. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Two pints of bitter please John,” the hairier of the sisters said in a gruff voice. “And a bag of pork scratchings.”
“What do I do?” the Warlock inquired of the Gnome.
“Get your eyes tested?”
“What? No, to romance one of these two?”
“You’re not seriously…”
“Oh,” the Warlock’s face fell. “Do you think they’re out of my league?”
“Well…”
“Yes,” the Warlock’s heart sank. “I suppose they wouldn’t look twice at me. Not two ravishing beauties like them.”
“Yes, yes!” said a relieved Plumtree. “That’s it! That’s it! Nothing personal sir but probably best not to run before you can walk.”
“I might try,” you had to admire the Warlock’s enthusiasm. “You can chat to the other one? See how we get on, right?”
“I can chat to the other one?” the Gnome gulped. “No way! It’s folly!”
“I thought we were here to find romance?”
“Sir, haven’t you noticed?” Plumtree lent towards the Warlock, lowering his voice.
“No, what?” the Warlock took a long look at the Ugly Sisters as they both wiped beer from their moustaches. “Oh, that…”
“Yes, ‘oh that’!” the Gnome snapped.
“Well, I don’t mind that,” shrugged the Warlock.
“You don’t? I thought we discussed this?”
“So they’re a bit athletic looking,” the Warlock conceded. “Big shoulders! Doesn’t bother me.”
“Right, we are going!” Plumtree finished his drink and arose, placing a hand on his master.
“What? What?” protested the Warlock as he was marched from the Inn by Plumtree.
“I fear it’s going to take far too long and way too many scenes like that to find you the right woman!” explained a frustrated Gnome. “If I left you to it, who knows what you could end up with?! You’re just not ready for the dating scene!”
“Why not?”
“Your radar is off!” cried the Gnome.
“My radar?”
“Your instincts…you are just not streetwise enough for this…it would be far better if you happened to meet a woman by chance or accident…or…”
The Gnome had come to a stop by another Inn. A poster hung on the front door had caught his eye.
“So what exactly is Speed Dating?” the Warlock asked Plumtree as they stood at the bar in the Inn.
In the Inn’s main snug were several tables, each one with two chairs facing opposite each other. The tables were numbered from one to eight. The Warlock was now wearing a badge with his name on it.
“Speed Dating is the way forward I’ve heard,” explained Plumtree casually. “What will happen is that you will get five minutes at each table to chat to a different woman each time. Once the five minutes are up, a bell will ring and you move to the next table.”
“I see,” it was clear from his demeanour that the Warlock really didn’t. “What should I say or do?”
“Just ask your partner questions.”
“Right…I see. Like their name?”
“No, they’ll be wearing badges like you.”
“Oh yes of course,” the Warlock folded his arms. “I know. I will ask how they got here tonight?”
“Not very interesting,” the Gnome was dubious.
“Their favourite colour?”
“Better.”
“Do they prefer bat stew or crushed spider potion?”
“Worse, listen,” the Gnome took a much needed sip of wine. “Just ask them what they do for a living, what their interests are…and so on.”
“Like whether they’re married or have a boyfriend?”
“No, why do you think they are here?” Plumtree quickly finished his drink. “They’re here because, like you, they are completely inadequate with the opposite sex.”
“Inadequate?”
“Inexperienced…” the Gnome corrected himself. “So of course they’re not going to have husbands and boyfriends! Well, maybe, but that’s beside the point. Ask them what their hobbies and interests are. You might have something in common.”
“I might meet a witch? Or a fellow magician?”
The Gnome surveyed the small group of either extravagantly dressed or nondescript women all wearing badges at the other end of the room.
“Probably not,” said Plumtree. “I would keep the spellbinding and cauldron gazing to yourself if I were you.”
“I thought you said me being a Warlock might be attractive to the opposite sex?” frowned the Warlock.
“Yes to some but it might be creepy for others,” Plumtree nodded. “I wouldn’t take the risk.”
“But I could impress them with a spell!” the Warlock’s eyes lit up.
“No, no,” Plumtree urged him. “Just keep things simple.”
“Oh,” the Warlock was disappointed.
“Leave the magic tricks to when you reach the bedroom.”
“What?”
“I’ll explain at the appropriate time.”
The Warlock knocked back a shot of brandy as a bell rang. The empty tables and chairs were all quickly taken.
Unfortunately the Warlock found himself sitting directly opposite an Ogre.
“So…” he stammered before reading from the Ogre’s badge. “Dave…what is your favourite colour?”
“You are sitting at the wrong table!” he snarled. “I should be opposite a woman!”
“Yes, I see your point…”
He looked up as a young woman was standing over him with a raised eyebrow. On the table next to them was another woman sitting opposite an empty chair.
“Mine I think?” the woman stood by him smiled thinly.
“Oh yes, of course!” the Warlock hurriedly arose to go and sit in the empty chair at the other table while the woman sat opposite the Ogre.
“Warlock?” his first partner, a pretty looking damsel read his badge. “That’s an unusual name.”
“Cinderella?” he slowly read her badge. “Nice name.”
“Thanks,” she toyed with her long blonde locks.
“So do you come here often?”
“No, because it’s a Speed Dating night?”
“Oh yes I see,” he was flustered. “So why are you here then?”
After several long and awkward silences, the bell rang as their time was up. Cinderella abruptly departed the table as did the Warlock who mistakenly didn’t look down at the seat at the next table.
The Ogre was unhappy with the Warlock sitting on his knee. It didn’t take long for the Warlock to find another table where he was sitting opposite a shy looking middle aged woman.
“Hello…” she looked down at her goblet of wine. “I like your…tunic.”
“Thanks.”
“I don’t suppose I will meet anyone here tonight,” she rolled her eyes. “Not much talent is there?”
“No. I suppose not.”
“Not that I am fussy,” she nodded at him. “I am only here for a quick bunk up.”
“What?”
“You know!” she half laughed. “I am not interested in meeting the special one or having a relationship. No way!”
“I see…I think.”
“No, I am just here for a night of good old, hard and fast sex.”
“Right.”
“No strings attached.”
“Okay.”
“And I don’t mind how you take me.”
“Oh, like in diagram five?”
“What?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
The bell couldn’t have rung fast enough. The Warlock breathed a sigh of relief.
He next faced a particularly bored looking woman.
“Having a nice time?” he asked her.
“No.”
“What’s your favourite colour?”
“Black.”
“Ooh, I am wearing black!” he tapped his tunic.
“It doesn’t suit you,” she sneered.
“No?”
“No, definitely not but then I guess,” she pointed at him. “You are wearing it to look slimmer?”
There was a break during which Plumtree fetched a drink for the Warlock as they stood at the bar.
“Can I go home please?” the Warlock asked.
“No, come on!” the Gnome passed him a mug of beer. “You’re just getting started! I saw your last date. Your were obviously trying to make her laugh with all that goofing about you were doing!”
“Goofing about?”
“Yes, those stupid faces you were pulling and the pretending to cry?”
“Pretending?”
“Yes! I could only see the back of her head but I guess she found it funny?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” the Warlock drank his beer.
“Just loosen up,” Plumtree advised him.
The bell rang.
“So then!” began the rather voluptuous young woman seated opposite the Warlock. “What do you do for work?”
“I work in Magic,” he replied.
“Oh, right. Money good?”
“What?”
“Does it pay well?”
“It doesn’t pay no,” he shook his head solemnly.
“Right, so you’re not wealthy then?”
“Wealthy? No.”
“Do you have your own house?”
“No, no, I live in a cave,” he explained.
“Oh,” she gave him a dirty look, clearly now wishing for the next bell to ring. “Nice is it?”
“It is rather, especially with the glittering precious stones in the walls…”
“Precious stones?”
The bell rang.
“You’re a Warlock?” the woman at the next table read his name badge. “And you have to come here to meet a woman?”
“Yes…my servant recommended it.”
“Why don’t you just conjure up a woman?”
The Warlock thought for a moment.

“Magic up a woman?” Plumtree followed the Warlock out of the Inn as they hurriedly exited the Speed Dating event. “Are you insane?”
“These female things!” began the Warlock.
“Women, you mean.”
“Yes! I am sure I could create one for myself!”
“I am not sure that’s a good idea?” the Gnome sighed. 

“Yes! Yes!” declared the Warlock as he stood over his cauldron back in the cave, sipping from his hip flask of brandy. “I can make my very own woman!”
“I am not sure I approve of experiments sir?”
“What sort of woman should I produce?” he rubbed his hands together in delight. 
“Not one like those two with the beards in the Inn.”
“Tell me Plumtree? What sort of woman do you think would be attractive?”
“Err well…” the Gnome paused for a moment. “A dancer. Yes, a dancer. A woman with a slender but athletic and feminine figure.”
“A dancer?” the Warlock frowned as he wasn’t sure he knew what one was. 
“Yes like a ballerina?”
“A ballerina?”


    To be continued in ‘The Warlock - Part II’…