Sir Reginald of Maplewick was, without question, the worst knight in the entire Kingdom of Alderstone.
This was not an insult.
This was a fact.
It was written on an official parchment, signed by King Aldric himself, and hung on the wall of Reginald's cottage right above the fireplace. (The King claimed it was meant as encouragement. Reginald wasn't sure.)
But Reginald had three things going for him:
1. **Boundless enthusiasm**
2. **A helmet that smelled only *slightly* of old turnips**
3. **A horse named Crumpet**, who was far smarter than he was and absolutely knew it.
On a perfectly average morning, Reginald was awakened by the sound of Crumpet kicking his door open.
The horse stomped up to his bed, dropped a rolled-up notice onto his chest, and snorted in a way that clearly meant *"Read it, you buffoon."*
Reginald unrolled it.
---
### **"Royal Quest Announcement"**
**To: All Capable Knights**
**(And also: Sir Reginald, for reasons beyond understanding)**
A terrifying beast has been spotted near the village of Pickleford.
The creature is described as:
* Large
* Hairy
* Smelly
* And extremely rude
(so possibly a troll, possibly someone's uncle)
Any knight brave enough to defeat it shall receive:
* 500 gold coins
* A medal
* And a voucher for half-price turkey legs at the King's Faire
Signed,
**King Aldric the Unnecessarily Dramatic**
---
Reginald leapt from bed, slipping on his own scabbard and nearly impaling the laundry basket.
"A quest!" he declared. "Crumpet, this is our chance to prove we're *not* the worst knight!"
Crumpet rolled his eyes so hard his entire head tilted.
Reginald suited up in his slightly dented armor, grabbed his somewhat blunt sword, and hopped onto Crumpet's back. The horse sighed deeply, as if he could feel every regret of his life simultaneously.
And so began their journey.
A heroic quest.
A noble adventure.
A disaster waiting to happen.
Pickleford looked peaceful from a distance.
Up close, it sounded like someone was being aggressively attacked by a bagpipe.
Reginald and Crumpet trotted into the village square just in time to see villagers climbing on roofs, diving into barrels, and one elderly man attempting to camouflage himself by standing very still next to a chicken coop while wearing feathers.
At the center of the chaos stood…
A goose.
A very large goose.
A goose glowing with faint magical sparkles.
A goose with the expression of someone who had been personally offended by the entire world and intended to file formal complaints by biting everyone.
It honked.
Windows shook.
Crumpet froze.
Reginald froze.
A nearby barrel froze — and then very slowly rolled away.
A terrified villager spotted them.
"Oh thank heavens!" she shouted. "A knight! And a horse! You're here to save us from— from— from *Honkulus the Terrible!*"
The goose snapped its beak at a potato cart, which exploded for no understandable reason.
Reginald cleared his throat. "Fear not, fair citizens! For I, Sir Reginald, shall defeat this foul— er, fowl beast!"
Crumpet looked at him like: *Please don't make puns when our lives are in danger.*
Reginald stepped forward, drew his slightly-blunt sword, and pointed it at Honkulus.
"I challenge you, enchanted goose!"
Honkulus stared.
Then, in a smooth, eerily elegant motion, it waddled up…
snatched the sword out of Reginald's hand…
and smacked him with it.
Reginald spun in a full circle and fell over.
The villagers gasped.
Crumpet face-hoofed.
But instead of attacking again, the goose stopped — lowered its head — and stared intensely at Reginald.
Its eyes glowed.
Reginald sat up, dizzy. "Um… Crumpet? Why is it looking at me like that?"
A burst of sparkles erupted from Honkulus.
The goose honked once — a grand, echoing honk filled with ancient destiny — and nudged Reginald firmly in the chest.
A magical sigil appeared on his armor:
**THE CHOSEN OF HONK.**
Reginald blinked.
Crumpet blinked.
The villagers fainted.
Then Honkulus proudly flapped its wings and climbed onto Crumpet's back, settling itself like a feathery warlord claiming a throne.
Reginald dusted himself off and bowed to the goose.
"Welcome to the team… Sir Honkulus."
The goose honked approvingly.
Crumpet groaned as if the universe had personally betrayed him.
And so the party gained a new member:
**A knight,
a genius horse,
and an enchanted, slightly aggressive goose with mysterious cosmic powers.**
A disastrous trio was born.
Reginald, Crumpet, and Honkulus the Terrible (now perched proudly like a feathery crown of chaos) marched triumphantly back toward the capital.
Reginald was excited.
Crumpet was deeply unexcited.
Honkulus was plotting something. You could just tell.
They entered the city gates to a chorus of confused looks and one guard whispering:
"Is… is that goose glowing?"
Inside the castle courtyard, King Aldric the Unnecessarily Dramatic awaited them atop the Grand Announcement Balcony, which he used for absolutely everything — including asking what was for lunch.
He spotted Reginald.
He spotted Honkulus.
He spotted the glowing sigil of **THE CHOSEN OF HONK** burned onto Reginald's breastplate.
And he fainted clean off the balcony.
Fortunately, Aldric was used to this. He had a special landing mattress shaped like his own face.
Reginald rushed to help him up. "Your Majesty! We have slain— er, subdued— um, befriended the beast terrorizing Pickleford!"
The King brushed himself off dramatically, cape fluttering even though there was no wind.
"That," he sputtered, pointing at Honkulus, "is no ordinary creature! That is— that is—"
Honkulus stared boldly at him.
The King squeaked like a bagpipe being stepped on.
"THAT is the Royal Court Wizard's escaped experiment!" he finally blurted out.
Reginald gasped.
Crumpet did not gasp, but did sigh.
Honkulus honked in a way that definitely meant *"yeah and what about it?"*
The King wrung his hands. "The wizard enchanted that goose with experimental cosmic power! It was supposed to become a messenger bird… not… a glowing force of chaos!"
Honkulus gently bit his crown.
The King screamed again.
"REGINALD!" he bellowed. "Your actions have caused a royal disaster! The goose now believes YOU are its chosen knight!"
Reginald stood straighter. "Truly? That sounds rather heroic."
"No!" the King shouted. "It means the enchantment bond is locked! You are now responsible for anything it does!"
The goose spread its wings.
The sky darkened.
Wind swirled.
Magic crackled.
The King trembled. "Oh no… it's powering up!"
The goose unleashed—
A massive, explosive—
**HONK.**
Every window in the castle shattered.
A statue fell over.
A noblewoman's wig flew into orbit.
The King slowly turned to Reginald, dust settling around him.
"You," he said in the voice of a man whose soul had just left for vacation,
"have five minutes to fix this."
Reginald gulped.
Crumpet groaned.
Honkulus honked proudly.
And so began their next misadventure—
**Trying to undo a magical goose-bond they had no idea how to undo.*
Reginald had barely taken ten steps out of the castle courtyard when he noticed something… odd.
People were staring at him.
Not the usual "oh look, it's that incompetent knight again" staring.
No — these were wide-eyed, awe-filled gazes. The kind you give a comet, or a miracle, or a man who somehow walked into the marketplace wearing only one boot and didn't notice.
Then the whispers began.
"He bears the Sigil…"
"The Chosen of Honk…"
"The Feathered One has marked him…"
"Do you think he'll bless my bread?"
Before Reginald could ask what was going on, a man in a hooded cloak rushed forward.
He knelt.
Reginald panicked and tried to kneel too, but because he was kneeling *to the kneeling man kneeling to him*, they both toppled over.
Crumpet covered his face with a hoof.
The cloaked man shot back up, eyes shining. "Great Chosen Knight! We have awaited you!"
"We have?" Reginald asked.
"Yes!" the man said. "We are the **Order of the Sacred Honk**—devoted followers of the Great Goose of Destiny!"
Honkulus puffed up his chest proudly, glowing brighter.
Reginald felt the weight of responsibility. "Ah. Um. And… how long has this Order existed?"
The man proudly said:
"Three hours."
"Three hou—"
"Yes! Ever since you shattered the castle windows with the Divine Honk! Truly, we witnessed a sign!"
Reginald winced. "Actually, that was—"
"We have interpreted the omens!" another cultist shouted as she stepped forward, clutching a handmade banner with a badly drawn goose. "We believe you are destined to lead us to the Holy Pond of Ascension!"
Reginald blinked. "The what?"
"The sacred pond," she said reverently. "Where the Chosen One shall bathe with the Great Goose, achieving enlightenment—"
Honkulus honked.
The cultists gasped reverently.
Reginald jumped three inches in the air.
Another cultist rolled in a wooden cart full of offerings: bread loaves, shiny rocks, and one very confused duck.
"Please accept our gifts!" they cried. "Guide us, O Goose-Touched Knight!"
Reginald was sweating. "I… really think you have the wrong—"
But Honkulus hopped off Crumpet, strutted forward, and placed a wing dramatically on Reginald's boot.
The crowd fell silent.
The goose raised its head…
…and honked once, with the gravity of a thousand ancient prophets.
The crowd erupted in cheers.
"THE HONK HAS SPOKEN!"
"WE SHALL FOLLOW THE CHOSEN KNIGHT!"
"LEAD US, O FEATHER-BLESSED CHAMPION!"
Reginald stared helplessly at Crumpet.
Crumpet stared back with the expression of a horse who knew this would happen eventually.
And so, the situation was now:
**Reginald:** Accidentally the leader of a goose cult.
**Honkulus:** Very pleased.
**Crumpet:** Emotionally preparing to flee the country.
"Oh no…" Reginald whispered.
"Oh yes," the nearest cultist whispered excitedly.
Reginald's day had already gone downhill when he accidentally became the spiritual leader of a goose cult.
But it went even further downhill when King Aldric found out.
The King burst into the courtyard like a thunderstorm wrapped in velvet curtains.
"REGINALD!" he roared, pointing dramatically at him. "EXPLAIN WHY THERE ARE FIFTY PEOPLE OUTSIDE MY CASTLE CHANTING 'HONK HALLELUJAH.'"
Reginald opened his mouth.
A cultist ran up and joyfully shouted, "Blessings upon you, Your Majesty! May the Honk guide your steps!"
The King screamed so loudly a pigeon fell out of the sky.
"No," he said, trembling. "Absolutely not. I forbid cults. Especially goose cults. *Especially* goose cults led by YOU, Reginald!"
Honkulus waddled forward, head high, wings slightly glowing.
The King took one step back.
Reginald tried to intervene. "Your Majesty, it's all a misunderstanding—"
Before he could finish, a distant voice shouted:
"THE GOOSE CULT IS A FRAUD!"
Everyone turned.
On the opposite end of the courtyard marched a group in brown feathery cloaks, carrying banners with crudely painted chickens.
At their front stood a woman wearing a chicken mask that was *far too detailed* to be comfortable.
She raised a staff topped with a rubber chicken.
"We," she announced, "are the **Brotherhood of the Blessed Cluck**!"
The goose cult gasped.
Honkulus hissed.
Crumpet whispered to himself: *I hate this kingdom.*
The chicken leader pointed dramatically at Honkulus.
"That goose is an omen of chaos! The true divine messenger is the Sacred Chicken! May its clucks guide the righteous!"
Her followers clucked in unison. **Cluck-cluck-CLUCK!**
Reginald blinked. "Oh no… there's TWO of them?"
The goose cult stepped forward defensively.
"Begone, foul chicken heretics!" one shouted.
"Honkulus is our glowing champion of destiny!" another insisted.
"HONK!" added Honkulus, who flapped his wings with god-like authority.
The chicken clan clucked angrily back.
And then—
A goose cultist and a chicken cultist both tried to throw their banners at each other…
…missed…
…and accidentally hit the King.
The King let out a noise that sounded like a boiling kettle.
"That's IT!" he howled. "No goose cults! No chicken cults! NO POULTRY OF ANY KIND FORMING RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS IN MY KINGDOM!"
The courtyard fell silent.
For a moment.
Then the goose cult began chanting:
**"HONK AGAINST TYRANNY!"**
The chicken cult responded with:
**"CLUCK TO FREEDOM!"**
The King stared at Reginald with a look that screamed: *YOU caused this.*
Reginald stared back with a look that screamed: *I REALLY didn't mean to.*
Honkulus honked loudly, and both cults erupted into cheering again.
The King grabbed Reginald by the shoulders.
"You," he hissed, "are going to fix this poultry civil war. IMMEDIATELY."
Reginald nodded rapidly. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Crumpet sighed. Honkulus glowed. The chicken cult clucked war cries.
The Great Poultry Uprising had begun.