The first day of Pigglebottom’s inaugural Brown End quest was coming to a close. 

The night was drawing in, and the temperature was steadily dropping. 

Pigglebottom had been walking inland from the coast for quite some time, but he still felt the cold whip of the sea breeze on his back. 

Cold, hungry, and exhausted, he decided he would set up camp for the night in the seemingly endless field that he was walking across. 

Pigglebottom produced a small folded tent just big enough for himself from the inner lining of his poncho. 

With the flick of a wrist, the tent was erected and Pigglebottom crawled inside for a few moments of warmth.

As he lay wriggling on the ground attempting to get comfortable, he almost missed his cave, which wasn’t particularly nice but was at least home. 

He had always been a home person, quite content to while away the hours with his nose in a book rather than socializing. 

Many an evening he would spend by candlelight learning of the great adventures his father undertook. 

Baron’s legend was so great that his entourage included a documentarian who would novelize each of his dangerous quests, the likes of which were constant bestsellers in Kroydome. 

Pigglebottom’s favorite story was of the time his father was tasked with infiltrating a group of Bogres, (ogres named for their snot-like complexion). 

In the story, his father seemed so valiant and brave as the book went into great detail about how courageous and handsome Baron was in any given circumstance. 

Pages and pages, sometimes entire chapters, were dedicated to describing how his long flowing blonde hair wafted in the summer breeze. 

These tomes enabled Pigglebottom to get to know his father as, being an adventurer by trade, he was rarely at home. 

Thus, his memories of his father mostly came from his imagination gifted to him by these fascinating and exciting texts. 

Pigglebottom often wondered what his father saw in his mother, him being tall and handsome, and her being small and rather goblin-esque. 

The truth was, unsurprisingly, money. 

Baron had agreed to marry Pigglebottom’s mother because she came from (at the time) an exceedingly wealthy lineage. 

As such, Baron saw the marriage as the perfect chance to acquire funding for his adventuring company. 

Pigglebottom’s mother was happy just to have married anyone, although did admittedly consider Baron to be somewhat up himself and too ‘flowery’ for her tastes. 

Pigglebottom thought back to one of the few memories he had of his father that he hadn’t taken from a book, which was on the day that Baron would leave for what would turn out to be his final quest. 

As he exited their home for one last time, Baron turned to his son and said: “You will be a great adventurer one day, my son, you’re half me remember! You won’t win any awards for your looks, but that’s down to your mother, nothing to do with me”, and with that, he left, never to return.

Pigglebottom’s stomach began to growl like the howl of a beast in the moonlight, and he decided he would have to fill it with something. 

Being in the middle of a gigantic field with absolutely nothing in sight, it would be next to impossible to find some wood to start a fire with. 

Instead, he munched on the remaining gort cheese in his pack. 

His mother had told him to never eat gort cheese before bed as it was known for its strong hallucination-like nightmares. 

However, Pigglebottom’s mother also claimed that eating it would make him “even uglier and have worse breath than usual” so Pigglebottom decided he would defy his mother’s wishes (since she was nowhere in the vicinity) and munch on the cheese to his heart’s content. 

It was not a particularly pleasant thing to eat, but every bite felt like a small victory to him. 

Each chunk that slipped down his throat was like a mini-protest to his mother, albeit one he wouldn’t have dared to make if he was in her presence.

The stars began to shine in the night sky as the darkness overtook the light completely. 

Pigglebottom thought this would be a perfect time to retire as he was not particularly fond of the darkness in any shape or form. 

He zipped up the door to his small tent and brought his knees up to his chest, using his poncho to cover his whole body. 

His breath was visible in front of him as the temperature dropped gradually even more and his blistered feet and leg muscles ached. 

Upon gradually becoming warmer and more comfortable, and his eyes felt like someone had attached weights to them as they were suddenly incredibly heavy, Pigglebottom slowly fell asleep, which unfortunately didn’t last long.

CRRRRE-AAAAAAKKKK, CREEE-AAAARRRRKKKK

Pigglebottom lept to his feet, hitting his head on the top of the tent, causing the whole thing to tumble to the ground with him.

CRREEEE…ARRRRGGGGGG

There it was again, the sound pierced Pigglebottom’s eardrums like a needle, and pumped fear straight into his heart. 

“W-w-w-what on earth was that?” He asked himself.

CRRRREEEUUUUURGGGGGG

Pigglebottom thrashed from either side as he found himself trapped within a tent prison of his own doing. 

Every time the noise was heard it seemed to be louder, which resulted in Pigglebottom thinking it must have been inching its way closer to him. 

This was, of course, his imagination as the sound was not getting louder or closer. 

Unbeknownst to Pigglebottom, it actually stemmed from a rare species of bird (the size and shape of which is similar to a walnut) only found in the grasslands of Kroydomeian and known for its piercing screams that are never the same as the last. 

Pigglebottom’s mind conjured up images of a pack of feral animals, each as deformed and terrifying as the next, slowly approaching him. 

The seemingly demonic squawks continued for the next few hour. Every time Pigglebottom heard the noises, his body would betray him by shaking violently in fear before falling into a coma-like fear-induced sleep.

As Pigglebottom fell into a deep sleep, he found himself sitting in his old office once more. 

The door swung open slowly and in floated, rather majestically, Baron Broadsword. 

His long flowing blonde hair rested gently on his armor-covered shoulders. 

He was wearing his battle armor, which Baron referred to as ‘The Metal Bastard’. 

Spikes as sharp as cut diamonds adorned his shoulder plates, and his oversized codpiece instantly caught the eye due to being studded with diamonds. 

Baron levitated towards his old desk that Pigglebottom sat behind and slowly lowered himself onto it, sitting cross-legged in front of his son.

“Hello Piggy,” muttered Baron in a soft voice. 

He’d always called Pigglebottom ‘Piggy’, which Baron considered to be a loving nickname and didn’t use it in the way that the boys at school regularly did.

“I see you’ve grown… sort of,” Baron smiled as he spoke.

“Well, not really, I think I might have shrunk a tiny bit since you last saw me, mother said it was a reverse-growth spurt,” Pigglebottom responded dejectedly.

“Nonsense, no son of mine shrinks, us Broadsword’s only grow and grow, we never shrink,” Baron shouted proudly whilst beating his chest, “apart from when we’ve had a few too many, of course.”

“I’m not much of a Broadsword though father, I fear I’ll never be an adventurer of your caliber. To be honest, I don’t even want to be, the thought of having to do this the rest of my life makes me want to walk off the end of Almighty Cliff.” Pigglebottom spoke quietly, almost ashamed to be speaking to his legendary father in such a candid, pathetic way.

“Nonsense, you just need to find your confidence. Don’t forget, you’re a Broadsword, you’re not a bloody Boggleswash like your… ‘mother’.” Baron seemed to grimace at even the thought of Pigglebottom’s mother. 

“You will find your courage, my son, just like I did, do you know how?” Baron asked.

“How, how did you find your courage father? It is the thing that I have been searching for all my life, I fear that I will never find it!” Pigglebottom said with a tear in his eye.

“It’s simple, you must defeat a colossus,” Baron said in a matter-of-fact way.

“A… colossus? I must… defeat… no, no surely not, I can’t do that!” Pigglebottom said terrified at just the prospect.

“Nonsense, you’re a Broadsword aren’t you, now, grab your sword!” Baron gestured as he slowly faded away. 

Pigglebottom’s eyes darted to every corner of the room, it was at this point that he realized he didn’t even own a sword. 

Just as the realization had dawned on him, the roof to the office began to peel off. 

The giant hand of the colossus ripped the top of the building clean off and grabbed Pigglebottom as brick and dust slowly fell to the floor below. 

The gigantic hand almost squeezed the life out of him as it pulled him up thousands of feet into the air. 

Pigglebottom screamed as he grew closer and closer to it's gigantic stone face. 

He felt like he had been flying through the air for an eternity before it slowly opened his mouth and effortlessly tossed him inside. 

His fall was cushioned by the colossus’ strangely soft yet seemingly cigarette-stained tongue as Pigglebottom screamed even louder and its teeth slowly closed. 

Just as he was about to be crushed between the colossus’ molars, he suddenly woke up, drenched in sweat. 

Still trapped within the confines of the fallen tent it was now more akin to a paddling pool due to the gallons of sweat that he had secreted. 

That’s the last time I eat gorts cheese before bed, Pigglebottom said to himself as he wrestled his way out of his moist coffin.