Guernica by Picasso

Accepting Sir Cadagon’s invitation to venture the world of paintings, the Dragon and the Princess were not given a second chance to rethink their situation. Sir Cadgon reached out to his three companions with all possible limbs while wielding the gold handled brush.

With a gentle and wishing swish the knight, pony, dragon and princess were transported through a slipstream of various colours into a darkened disfigured world. It was Picasso’s Guernica.

The four travelers filled the room pushing its mangled figures outside into an unknown place. There was tremendous crashing and booming coming from the outside, and it scared Sir Cadagon so he hid behind the Princess and his Pony to curled behind the Dragon in fear. A small boy whose nose was above his eyes looked at Sir Cadagon while peering peering over the Princess’ shoulder.

The peasant boy yelled in Spanish to Sir Cadagon, but the knight could not understand.

“What did you say, dear boy?” asked Sir Cadagon coming out from behind the Princess. “What troubles you pained peasant?“

“Fascistas” squealed the deformed boy.

“Fazchistas, eh?” pondered Sir Cadagon. He looked into the eyes of the Princess and saw sympathy towards the peasant boy in her eyes. He knew to win her heart he must challenge these Fazchista monsters, despite their attacks on these ugly people.

“I will slay these monsters that terrorise your hideous village (the boy gave what looked like a hateful looked)” quaked Sir Cadagon.

Leaping on his Pony that was whiter than before (his fear had increased due to the mention of the Fazchistas), Sir Cadagon immediately fell to the ground after striking his head on the low ceiling. Luckily Sir Cadagon’s helmet broke the blow, so instead he took his Pony’s reins and led him outside the room. He walked passed the Princess, who gave him an airy look. He pulled his visor down so she would not see him blush.

Walking out the door and into the street, Sir Cadagon noticed from the destruction of the village that he was fighting a monster beyond his ability. Buildings were demolished with flickering dark white. Disfigured Spanish peasants were fleeing across the street from building to building in disorder and panic. Sir Cadagon stared to the skies hearing the roar of engines. He was watching the Luftwaffe (what he understood as the Fazchistas) bomb the village of Guernica.

Sir Cadagon immediately regretted leaving the room, but he reminded himself it was for the love of the Princess. This gave some minor warmth to his heart. Despite his fear, Sir Cadagon was also concerned with how he could attack the Fazchistas if they were flying. The Dragon would help, but then what would Sir Cadagon do? Could the gold handled brush help him?

THE RESULTS

Sir Cadagon should ask the Dragon for help to battle the Fazchistas – 71% (THE WINNER!!!)

Sir Cadagon should try and use the gold handled brush against the Fazchistas – 14%

Sir Cadagon should fight the Fazchistas with just his Pony and sharp blade – 0%

Sir Cadagon should take his Pony and flee from the painting using the gold handled brush – 14%

Sir Cadagon held the gold handled brush firmly in his hand. He looked at the Dragon whose neck was clutched by the weeping Princess. Unknown to the power of the brush, Sir Cadagon hoped for the best and stroked the bristles over the Dragon’s wound.

With a surge of colours and the flash of light the wound was healed. Sir Cadagon, his fat Pony and the Princess watched in wonder and amazement, as the Dragon stood on strengthening limbs.

“You saved me…” muffled the Dragon as the Princess pounded on him with joy. “You are a brave knight and a great sorcerer. I owe you my life.”

Sir Cadagon beamed with pride, but it was shortly followed by him blushing as the Princess pounded on him. She threw off his helmet and pecked him with kisses on his cheek, forehead and nose. Her lips were moist and it brought warmth to Sir Cadagon’s still body. The guilt of Saint George’s death was cleansed from the shower of kisses.

“I beg your pardon, sir” apologised the Princess who came over her passions. “I am the Princess and this is my friend, Dragon.”

“You do not have names?!” asked Sir Cadagon who had now regained his white complexion.

“Our Painter never gave us proper names. Raphael only gave us titles. The Dragon and the Princess.”

“We seem to have similar problems, Madam.” beamed Sir Cadagon. “My name is Sir Cadagon and I once had a title, but it is scratched from my painting and I forget it!”

“Perhaps it was Sir Cadagon the Sorcerer.” said the Dragon.

“No! This gold handled brush is what gives me my power. I am no magician. I just search paintings in hope to find the Painter in order to learn what my purpose is.”

Sir Cadagon tightly grasped the brush in his hand. He knew it was time to leave this painting in search for the Painter. He stared down to his Pony and it gazed back. Sir Cadagon had traveled with his Pony before, and he found it rather boring with his only companion to be a lazy and always-eating animal.

“Would you like to come with me?” asked Sir Cadagon. “If you came with me you could find your names. You could find your purpose!”

He looked at the Dragon. He knew the Dragon was a strong and fierce ally in battle. His ability to fly would also come in handy. He then stared into the deep eyes of the Princess and he fell into a trance. Her beauty had surpassed any woman paintings back in the Castle… including the Fat Lady.

THE RESULTS

The Dragon and the Princess should both travel with Sir Cadagon – 71% (Winner!!!)

The Dragon and the Princess should try and steal the gold handled brush – 29%

The Dragon and the Princess say farewell to Sir Cadagon and remain in Raphael’s painting – 0%

Lacking patience Sir Cadagon should take his Pony and leave to another painting – 0%

Saint George by Raphael

Saint George was busy tightening leather straps while Sir Cadagon reached a conclusion. He was going to kill Saint George so he could gain the love of the Princess. It was a simple thought, but putting it into action would be extremely hard.

Sir Cadagon watched Saint George and sized him up. Even if he mounted his fat Pony, he would be no match against this valiant knight. He knew he would need the Dragon on his side in order to defeat Saint George and win the grace of the beautiful Princess.

Riding his fat pony he cautiously approached the Dragon who was firmly standing facing Saint George across the field. Once close enough and out of earshot from Saint George, Sir Cadagon addressed the Dragon.

“Dragon! I mean you no harm,” trembled Sir Cadagon on his fat pony. “I only wish for your allegiance against Saint George. He wishes to kill you and take the Princess! I do not want to see such a noble creature as yourself slain for the benefit for a womanizer.”

“You speak true words, but there is more that you must know” sighed the Dragon. “The Princess and I have been in this painting a long time, but Saint George has other paintings to travel to. While he has been gone the Princess and I have become friends. The Princess has tried to tell Saint George that I am harmless, but he doesn’t believe her because I am so cruel in other paintings. I appreciate your allegiance to defeat this vile knight.“

Sir Cadagon reached for his sword as a sign of readiness, but his quick movement caused him to loose his balance and he fell upon the ground in a heap. When Saint George saw Sir Cadagon sprawled on the ground he believed the Dragon had killed him, so he mounted his stallion and charged towards the winged beast. Saint George’s lance pierced into the Dragon’s right shoulder excreting blood.

Seeing the attack had begun, Sir Cadagon yelled and ran across field to help the Dragon. The battle-cry startled Saint George and he turned his back to the Dragon in surprise to see Sir Cadagon alive. Retaliating, the Dragon reached down and with one snap of his jaw he bit off Saint George’s head spitting it at the feet of the fat Pony. The Pony sniffed the head, but he was vegetarian and refused to eat it.

The Princess ran across the field towards the Dragon in tears. The wounded beast was lying on its side coughing quietly. Small flames were extinguishing out of its mouth following each cough. The lance had pierced down his shoulder and all the way into his lungs. The Princess and Dragon were whispering goodbyes quietly. The Dragon was dieing.

Despite being triumphant in his actions, Sir Cadagon felt guilt grip his heart. He assisted in the murder of a brave knight. He was unable to save the Dragon. What was he to do? How could he win the heart of the Princess? And then he remembered the gold handled brush. Could the brush help him?

THE RESULTS

Sir Cadagon should try and heal the Dragon with the gold handled brush – 63% (Winner!!!)

Sir Cadagon should let the Dragon die and then take the Princess – 13%

Sir Cadagon should try to bring Saint George back to life with the gold handled brush – 0%

Sir Cadagon should take his pony and flee to another painting – 25%

Saint George by Raphael

With a stroke of the gold handled brush Sir Cadagon and his white Pony were transported from the painting in the Headmasters study. They entered a slipstream that was assorted with various colours. It was a dazzling array of colours that danced back and forth in a rhythmic cycle. Sir Cadagon had to close his eyes so he wouldn’t feel sick. Soon the colours stopped and formed to make shapes.

Sir Cadagon and his Pony was surrounded by images of trees. There were various rocks outcropping from the ground. The grass was sparse and it was hard and brittle. The plastic fruit had not entirely filled the pony’s stomach, so he tested the grass. It was like eating stale toast that was bitter. The Pony spat it out and was eagerly looking around for water to wash out his mouth.

Sir Cadagon was also looking around, but unlike the Pony he actually found what he was looking for. Further across the opening he saw some figures. One was a fellow knight mounted on a brilliant stallion. There was another person who Sir Cadagon guessed to be a lady because of her a flowing dress. The other figure was a tormenting dragon.

Saddled on his Pony, Sir Cadagon urged his steed towards the group of characters. Upon coming with range he addressed himself.

“Good day fellow paintings! I am Sir Cadagon, who may you be?”

The knight who was readying for combat looked at Sir Cadagon.

“I am Saint George,” turning to the lady he addressed her. “This is the princess of the local village. I must slay this dragon in order to save her life and I also hope to win her heart.”

Sir Cadagon looked at the princess. She was a beautiful woman, and he would love to win her heart. It was then that he realised that his Quest would be much harder than he thought. Saint George seemed a likable knight and his cause was noble, but the beauty of the princess was too enticing to see another man with her. Sir Cadagon was staring at the princess in such deep thought that he didn’t even notice he was drooling.

What should he do? Should he help Saint George slay this dragon? Or should he flee and try to convince the princess to come with him?

THE RESULTS

Sir Cadagon should help Saint George slay the Dragon – 25%

Sir Cadagon should help the Dragon kill Saint George – 50% (THE WINNER!!!)

Sir Cadagon should let Saint George and the Dragon fight while he takes the Princess – 13%

Sir Cadagon should stroke his gold handled brush and flee to another painting – 13%

Sir Cadagan paced back and forth looking out of his painting at the passing students as they descended the stairwell. He would occasionally challenge them, but what was the point? The students just called him crazy. He was on the seventh floor in a tower where students only came to go to class. It was a class that few ever wanted to go to.

“What I would give to live a life of theirs”, he sighed. “To live a life where I could be three dimensional! To be able to dust myself! To not have to worry about fading in the sun…”

And his sorrows increased. The only happiness was in his daily stroll where he would journey with his fat pony to fellow paintings in the school, but due to his character he was rarely greeted with joy. Most other paintings found him brainless and they found his pony always ate their food. His popularity among the paintings in the school was decreasing.

Today he walked into a simple painting of a bowl full of plastic fruit. This painting was located in a dark corner of the Headmaster’s study. His pony immediately walked over to the bowl and started to munch away. After eating an apple and half a banana, the pony realised the fruit was plastic and inedible. The fat pony then curled up next to Sir Cadagon who was leaning on the bowl taking a rest.

Dozing away Sir Cadagon put more of his weight onto the bowl and the apple core plummeted on top of him. With a shock the knight gave a starteling scream awakening his pony and the Headmaster who was snoozing at his desk. The aging wizard walked over to the painting. Sir Cadagon fled behind the fruit bowl in fear, but his pony just sat dreary eyed at the arriving Headmaster.

“Sir Cadagon I know it is you,” said the Headmaster.“What are you doing distrupting my study?”

“I followed my feet and they brought me here kind Sir,” apologised the cowering knight.

“Well then I suppose you should follow your feet somewhere else,” snapped the Wizard.

“But dear Headmaster. I have nothing to do. I have no purpose!”

“Well what does your painting’s title say?”

“It just says my name and the rest was scratched off years ago by a student. I challenged him to a duel, but he fled from the bite of my blade! I have now forgotten what the words said. Without those words I am nothing! And now my painting is growing old and I have no purpose!”

“You must then contact your Painter,” said the Headmaster. “Here take this paint brush. With a stroke it can take you to any painting, but the painting that it will take you to will be random. You cannot choose the painting to which you will travel to. If chance is on your side you should come across the Painter.”

The old Headmaster retrieved a gold handled brush from a drawer in his desk. He walked back over to the painting of the bowl of fruit and handed it to Sir Cadagon.

“Good luck Sir Cadagon,” yawned the Wizard. “Now go and let me sleep…. Oh and when your done could you give me that brush back?”

“Certainly! I won’t let you down great Headmaster!”

Sir Cadagon lifted his white pony onto his four hooves and he jumped on its back. With a stroke of the gold handled brush the knight and his fat steed disappeared in a surge of colours in search of the Painter.