NOTE: This is only a first draft.

Chapter One

 

Maxwell the Magnificent wore his wizard robe well. It cascaded over his shoulders and flowed down toward his feet, waving in the breeze. The material of the robe was made of midnight blue velvet and covered with hundreds of magical symbols that glowed yellow. The staff he held in his right hand was a knobby thing. It twisted and curled from the ground up and topped out at seven feet with an amber jewel inset in the top. The large gem was held in place with what looked like wooden fingers that clutched it protectively. The jewel flashed slowly with magical power as its owner stood still . . . observing. His billowing robes, gleaming staff, and hat glowed brightly in the late afternoon.

The wizard stood tall and straight and emanated an aura of confidence. His long black beard swayed with the gusts of wind that blew in from over the sea he faced. His fingers were covered in rings that also contained magical gems. His hat, which you would have expected to be a long, pointy thing, hugged the dome of his head tightly and had a bill over his eyes to protect them from the sun. On the front of the hat was simply the letters MM. His hair, which reached halfway down his back, was tied in a ponytail. Under the bottom edge of the robe, dirty toes could be seen wigging in the grass, for Maxwell the Magnificent didn’t like covering his feet. He liked being in contact with the earth.

Maxwell the Magnificent, a completely accurate and well deserved title, thank you very much, was their leader and no matter what situation they found themselves in, he was there to save the day.

To his left stood another wizard named Albert the Alright, a young man that never quite cast his spells correctly. On his right, Wanda the Wonderful, a witch that was beloved by all, held two wands at the ready. They were also joined by a nimble elf named S’lar, a large warrior named Throng, a husky dwarf named Bibly Twofist, and a sleek centaur named Swat.

They all stood on a grassy hill overlooking the Sea of Monsters, waiting for what they knew not.

A week ago, each of these unique beings, except for Albert the Alright who really wasn’t all that special, but he was available, had received a call on their telefaries. The King of Pepperland would pay them each ten thousand gold pieces if they defeated the monsters that were on the way to destroy his kingdom. So, a week later, they had gathered on this hill waiting for . . . something.

The Sea of Monsters was in turmoil. Overhead, the clouds twisted and turned while a lightning storms above their heads added to the noise with booming thunder. The wind gusts caused whitecaps on the once tranquil sea and ripped through the forest behind them causing the trees to creak and groan.

Wanda tugged on Maxwell’s sleeve and yelled something, but he couldn’t hear her.

He banged his staff on the ground and a blue glow sprang up, surrounding the party. Instantly, a calming silence fell over them. They no longer heard or felt the wind and the thunder was muffled and barely distinguishable.

 “Thank you, Maxwell,” Wanda said, running her fingers through her hair, straightening it out. “I was going to ask when you think the enemy might appear.”

Maxwell replied, “Any time now, I would suppose.”

Albert raised his left arm and pointed out to sea. “How right you are. Here they come.”

Out in the surf, blue heads were starting to appear. They continued forward until their shoulders were revealed, then their torsos, and finally their legs. They were all in blue and quite rotund, and you wouldn’t think to look at them that there was anything to fear. They really looked like something you might want to cuddle with, rather than the horror of an invading army.

“Ah, drat,” Bibly Twofist muttered. “Blue Meanies.”

“Yes,” Maxwell agreed. “I see that. Well, this certainly is a surprise.”

Down on the beach, the Blue Meanies began to exit the water and align themselves into a dozen or so columns. After a couple of minutes, each of the columns had thirteen Blue Meanies in it. They all stood there staring up at the seven on the hill. They had moved with precision as they took their places, as if they had practiced this before. The army stood there quietly, as if waiting for a signal.

Behind them, another Blue Meanie hurriedly exited the water and went to the rear of one of the columns. The last Blue Meanie in that column pushed the late one away, which knocked him down and caused him to roll back down the beach into the water. He stood up and tried again with a different column, only to have the same thing happen to him. He ran around frantically until he decided to start his own column. Standing there, he smiled and waved to Maxwell in his column of one.

Maxwell started to raise his hand to wave back, but decided not to.

On cue, all of the Blue Meanies reached behind their backs and drew out their weapons, which were blue guns. Then held the weapons up to their chests over their hearts and waited.

The last Blue Meanie to arrive fumbled with his gun and said, “Oops,” as the gun fell to the sand at his feet. He quickly reached down and then straightened, holding his gun over his heart. He smiled sheepishly at Maxwell.

A small section of the sea behind the army began to bubble and boil. The Blue Meanies stood perfectly still as another one started to rise out of the water. Unlike the ones standing on the beach, this Blue Meanie, who has very long black rabbit-like ears, sat upon the strangest creature that Maxwell had ever seen. It had a long nose that stuck out a couple of feet beyond the rest of its face. It had gigantic yellow teeth showing between two massive lips. As it turned to the side, Maxwell realized that it looked like a floating gloved hand pointing at something. It was blue like everything else the Blue Meanies had, and its large eyes stared at his group on the hill.

“This guy must be the leader, or general, or king, or something,” Albert said, stating the obvious.

Throng the warrior, a startlingly massive human that stood close to seven feet tall and had muscles to spare, drew his broadsword and sneered, “You think so?”

“Yep,” Albert replied nodding, not grasping the sarcasm.

The leader moved his mount up to the front of the line and slapped his hands together. The wind instantly died down to a slight breeze and the lightning abated. The Sea of Monsters settled down until the water was as flat as glass.

Maxwell muttered a spell and the protective blue glow around his party dissipated.

“Ah, now we can talk,” the leader said. “Venuz B. Meanie is here,” he said, waving his hand and smiling. “But you can call me Chief Blue Meanie.”

“All hail the Chief!” the army shouted.

Swat the centaur stamped a hoof loudly on the ground and his hand tightened its grip on his halberd.

“Aw . . . thanks guys,” the chief said, blushing a little. “Anyway, we’re here to destroy Pepperland!”

“Destroy Pepperland!” the army shouted.

The chief stood up on the Dreadful Flying Glove and bowed toward his army. He sat back down with a plop and waved at Maxwell’s party. “And who are you? Have you come to join us?”

Maxwell shook his head. “No, not quite.”

“Oh, well then. Did you happen to bring us some supper? We’re all quite hungry after walking halfway across the bottom of the Sea of Monsters. By the way, we didn’t see any monsters down there. Now, that’s a strange name for a sea without any monsters in it, don’t you think?”

“Supper!” the army yelled. “No monsters!”

Maxwell just stared at this strange creature who didn’t seem very intimidating at all.

“No, we didn’t bring you any food,” Maxwell said, getting frustrated.

“Oh well, then I guess you’re here to try and stop us.”

“Not bloody likely!” the army shouted.

“That’s what we’ve been paid to do,” Maxwell replied, going over a few spells in his head.

“Ah, well, then I guess it’s time to fight then,” Chief Blue Meanie said, rubbing his hands together. “Oh, how I love a good fight.”

“Fight!” the army yelled, raising their weapons.

S’lar reached behind her back and drew an arrow from her quiver. She nocked the arrow and drew the bow back to her cheek, the arrow aimed directly at the chief.

Next to her, Bibly Twofist slapped one hand on the flat part of the blade. His double-edged axe was ready to taste some Blue Meanie blood.

Albert the Alright searched his robes for his wand. He patted his stomach. Nothing. He reached up his left sleeve, then his right. Nothing. “Now, where did I put that darned thing,” he said while he scratched his head. When he lowered his arm, he knocked the wand off of his right ear, where he’d stuck it earlier when he had to pee behind a tree. “Ah, here you are,” he said, picking it up off the ground and then pointing it menacingly at the army, where he promptly dropped it again. “Darn it,” he said, reaching for the elusive wand.

Wanda the Wonderful already had a wand in each hand pointed at the army massed on the beach below them, a spell ready on her lips.

Throng held his large broadsword in two hands. The tension was easy to see on his face as he wringed the leather grip between his two hands, creating a leathery creaking sound.

Lastly, Swat stood ready. His mighty halberd clutched in both hands. He stamped his front hooves repeatedly in anticipation of the upcoming battle, for centaurs loved a good fight.

Chief Blue Meanie turned to his army. “Hey, are you guys ready? I sure am.”

“Ready, Teddy!”

“Well, then. What’re you waiting for? Charge!”

The army lurched forward. Brandishing their weapons, they began to move up the hill at a casual pace.

Bibly Twofist laughed and then let out a mighty dwarven bellow but did not move. He knew his group had the advantage by remaining on top of the hill.

The army slowly made its way toward Maxwell and his party. When they got within one hundred feet of the group, Maxwell and Wanda began their magical attack. Spell after spell rained down on the Blue Meanies.

The spells knocked the army to the ground, but they slowly stood up again and started moving forward.

Albert cast a spell, but it went zinging off into the clouds overhead. He looked at his wand in frustration. “Must be broken,” he said, shaking it, which caused a couple of fireballs to shoot out of it toward the army.  He smiled and continued shaking the wand.

S’lar fired arrow after arrow into the blue mass. She hit all of her targets, and some of the Blue Meanies fell to the ground, screaming. Some remained down, while others rose again, broke off the shaft of the arrow that hit them, and threw it to the ground.

Maxwell and Wanda continued their barrage of spells, but nothing seemed to stop the approaching army of Blue Meanies. Some were having an effect, but not all of them. The spells that seemed to work best were Lightning, Fireball, and Freeze. A few of the Blue Meanies were getting fried where they stood. Some were on fire and others were turned into big, blue icicles.

When S’lar spotted a frozen enemy, she would shoot it with an arrow and the Blue Meanie would shattered into a million pieces.

Chief Blue Meanie sat on the Dreadful Flying Glove and laughed. He laughed so hard that he rolled off of his mount, fell onto the sand, and yelped in surprise.

The front of the army had finally reached Maxwell’s group. A mighty clash rang out as Throng, Bibly Twofist, and Swat waded into the mass of Blue Meanies, their weapons swinging.

The fighting in front of the wizards and witch was intense. Blue Meanies started falling with injuries, but were quickly replaced with others.

Maxwell cast spell after spell, but the results seemed to be lacking. Suddenly, in his ear, he heard someone whisper, “You need to take out Chief Blue Meanie. His magic causes your spells to be weaker than they normally would be. He has a sapphire gemstone that he wears around his neck. It’s the source of his power.”

Maxwell turned to find the Blue Meanie that had exited the sea last, the one that hadn’t been let into column, standing right beside him.

The Blue Meanie shrugged, “Hey, they never treated me nicely. Why should I care what happens to them? I’ve always wanted to live in Pepperland anyway.”

Maxwell raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Thanks,” he said as he turned back to the battle and shouted at Wanda and Albert. “Focus you fire on the chief. He has magic!”

All three hit the chief with magic missiles. Well, not all of them hit as Albert’s aim had never been very good. The chief, who had just managed to climb back on the Dreadful Flying Glove was knocked off and fell back onto the sand.

“Throng,” Maxwell shouted. “The chief’s wearing a jewel around his neck. It needs to be destroyed!”

“Got it!” Throng replied, and started running down the hill, plowing over the Blue Meanies that were in his way.

Chief Blue Meanie was struggling to hoist himself back up on the Dreadful Flying Glove when Throng smashed into him. The chief went flying and landed in the shallow surf, rolling through the tiny waves. He stopped and spit out some sea water. Pushing himself up to his hands and knees, he glared at Throng.

“You’ll regret that, my massive friend.”

“I doubt that,” Throng replied, stepping toward the chief.

Chief Blue Meanie bounced to his feet and grabbed the sapphire in one hand. It began to glow, shooting rays of light from between his fingers. This light grew brighter and brighter, and as it did, the chief laughed more and more manically.

Throng reached the chief and lifted his broadsword in anticipation of cutting off the Blue Meanie’s head. Just as he was about to start his downward swing, Chief Blue Meanie let go of the crystal and an intense beam of pure blue light streaked out and struck the giant human. Throng had a look of surprise on his face and then his body suddenly turned to goo and fell to the sand. The broadsword tumbled to the ground, pommel embedded in the sand.

“Ha!” the chief laughed. “Serves you right for knocking me down, you . . . you meanie!” This made the chief fall back to the ground and roll around as he giggled to himself. “I called him a meanie.”

Maxwell screamed out as Throng was transformed. He hadn’t thought that the chief had that kind of power, but he should’ve guessed. Maxwell cast a spell of levitation and floated over the battlefield. He came back down to the ground directly beside the Dreadful Flying Glove.

The glove eyed him with displeasure.

Maxwell laid a hand on the head of the glove and said, “Sleep.”

The glove closed its eyes and floated off over the water.

“Hey,” the chief said, “that’s not fair.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” Maxwell replied, having read that somewhere.

“Love you say,” the chief said. “There’s no love here. Well, except for the love I have for me.”

Something niggled in the back of Maxwell’s mind. He’s not sure why he said what he said next, but it felt right, “All you need is love.”

“What?”

“I said, ‘All you need is love’.”

While the chief was distracted by this strange saying, Maxwell swung his staff and hit the chief right in the chest. The sapphire shattered sending Maxwell flying backwards. Luckily, he was on a sandy beach and his landing, which was on his back, wasn’t too hard, even though he slid about twenty feet until he stopped. Sitting up groggily, he looked over at the chief. There was nothing there anymore except for two black ears slowly floating to the ground.

When the Blue Meanies on the hill saw that their chief was gone, they threw down their weapons, which they had never fired, usually preferring to try to beat them against their opponents heads. They turned on their heels and fled back into the Sea of Monsters. Maxwell looked up at his party, which now included the one Blue Meanie that had helped them.

Bibly Twofist had just spotted the blue fellow and was creeping up the hill to chop him in two with the battleaxe.

“Wait, Bibly!” Maxwell shouted. “He helped us!”

“What,” the dwarf said, eyeing the Blue Meanie. “You sure? I could do with another kill.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure.”

“Well, that certainly makes me unhappy,” Bibly said, swinging his axe down toward his side.

He turned, his companions by his side, and they began to chant his name.

“Maxwell, Maxwell, Maxwell!”

. . .

“Maxwell!”

Maxwell looked around the nearly empty classroom, his best friend, or really only friend, stood before his desk with his perpetually anxious expression plastered on his face.

When Maxwell had moved to the area two years ago, Billy Shears had been sitting alone in the front of the bus on his first day of seventh grade. Although it wasn’t a particularly fast friendship, both of their awkward tendencies, lack of other friends, and the ability to stick out like a sore thumb in any social situation, caused them to become comfortable with one another’s presence. Billy had big eyes and wore glasses that never seemed to sit straight on his face, constantly had on graphic t-shirts with obscure references that Maxwell gave up on looking up a long time ago, and had a brain so brilliant that he carried around a handheld journal so he could remember every minute idea that passed through his brain.

Maxwell hadn’t expected to live here so long; being raised by a single mother had resulted in frequent moves that gave Maxwell little time to create a new life. Generally, he stuck to himself and daydreamed up fantastical stories where he wasn’t stuck at school as a Freshman in high school.

“Come on dude, if we don’t hurry, the hot lunch will be gone and if I have to eat another mystery meat sandwich I will literally kill you for making me late.” Billy scooped up Maxwell’s supplies in his arms and started ushering him into the congested hallway.

“I don’t think killing me is in your best interest.” Maxwell took his books from Billy, swung his backpack onto his front, and began attempting to stuff them in his cluttered bag. After deeming that the zipper would work halfway zipped, he stopped Billy and put a hand on his shoulder. “I mean, even as smart as you are, you couldn’t get away with murder. Then you would be stuck in prison for life, and I am going to assume that the only thing on the menu is mystery meat and misery.”