We'd just finished a wild series of events, and I was looking forward to maybe rolling back to the inn for some rest, possibly without any pies or turkey legs trying to take a bite out of me.
But, as always, fate had other plans.
We were crossing the rolling hills just outside the town when I first heard it, the unmistakable sound of trumpets. Not just any trumpets, mind you, but loud, slightly off-key, and a bit too enthusiastic. I barely had time to roll a few inches before a whole band of armored figures burst out of the bushes, waving flags and shouting something in a language that sounded like a mix of sneezes, hiccups, and enthusiastic belches.
"Who goes there?" I shouted, trying to put on my best "I'm definitely not just a toilet" voice. "State your business!"
The leader of the group, a rotund figure in golden armor that looked more decorative than functional, stepped forward, brandishing a large spoon like it was a weapon. His helmet was far too big for his head, and his mustache twitched with a kind of dramatic flair that would have been more intimidating if he hadn't just tripped over his own feet.
"Silence, talking porcelain!" he declared, pointing the spoon at me. "By order of Princess Plumpia of Farfartia, you are hereby seized and summoned to the royal dungeons!"
"Wait, hold on!" I exclaimed, backing up. "I'm not exactly in the habit of going anywhere with strange spoon-wielding men, especially not to a royal dungeon."
Nixie, Ursha, and Yzara, who had been a few steps behind, came rushing over, only to be met with a line of more armored warriors who had popped out from behind the bushes. The armor was decorated with symbols that looked like a mix of vegetables and toilet paper, and every soldier carried a spoon or ladle instead of a sword.
"Are we being… attacked?" Ursha asked, looking around in disbelief.
The spoon-wielding leader puffed out his chest and spoke with a grand flourish. "This is no mere attack! You stand in the presence of the royal spoon battalion of Farfartia! And we are here to escort the Great Porcelain One, " (he gestured dramatically at me) ", to our lands."
"The Great Porcelain One?" I muttered. "What is he even talking about?"
Yzara, amused as always, gave a sly grin. "Seems like they've mistaken you for something important. You might as well play along."
I rolled my eyes (if toilets could roll their eyes, that is). "Playing along is the last thing I want to do. Can we just… leave?"
The Farfartian soldiers were faster than I expected. Before I could roll back or even protest, they had surrounded us, their spoons gleaming menacingly in the sunlight.
The leader gestured to his men, who immediately began chanting in that strange language of theirs, their words echoing through the air. "Porcelainia Maximus! Flushoronius Grande! Bring forth the power of the bowl!"
With a synchronized step, they marched forward, grabbing hold of me and hoisting me onto their shoulders. I squirmed and struggled, but it was no use, they had me hoisted up like some kind of strange trophy, carrying me off with all the dignity they could muster.
"Hey! Put me down!" I yelled, wiggling as much as a toilet can. "I'm not a trophy!"
Nixie tried to intervene, raising her staff. "Let him go! We don't want any trouble."
But the soldiers were unfazed, one of them giving her a polite bow while another handed her a small, crumpled invitation. "Please present yourselves at the Royal Court of Farfartia at your earliest convenience. We insist that the Great Porcelain One must come with us for a special royal event."
"You can't just take him!" Ursha snapped, crossing her arms. "What makes you think he'd want to go with you anyway?"
The leader puffed up his chest, giving a grandiose nod. "By order of Princess Plumpia, he must! The Porcelain One is a prophesied being, foretold in our ancient scrolls to be the Chosen Bowl."
"The… Chosen Bowl?" I asked, utterly baffled.
Before I could argue any further, the soldiers turned and marched off, carrying me along while my friends were left behind, stunned and bewildered. I could hear Nixie, Ursha, and Yzara shouting after us, but the Farfartians ignored them, whisking me off into the unknown.
As we left Lavatoria behind, I had no idea what to expect. All I knew was that I was about to meet this Princess Plumpia of Farfartia, and that whatever awaited me in this "royal dungeon" was probably more than I bargained for.
The journey to Farfartia was strange, to say the least. The land was filled with rolling hills and peculiar flora that looked suspiciously like toilet brushes and rolls of parchment. The sky seemed perpetually overcast, with occasional sounds that echoed like muffled flatulence across the hills.
Finally, we reached a massive stone castle that was both majestic and… oddly shaped, with towers that twisted like the handles of oversized plungers. The soldiers marched me up to the castle's front gate, where they set me down on a golden cart and wheeled me into the main hall.
The room was filled with nobles dressed in flowing robes adorned with embroidery of vegetables, fruit, and, of course, toilet paper. They all turned to stare as I was wheeled in, and I felt my tank wobble slightly under the weight of all those judging eyes.
At the far end of the hall, sitting on a throne made of gleaming porcelain, was a figure unlike any I'd ever seen before: Princess Plumpia, a round, cheerful woman with a crown shaped like a golden toilet brush. Her dress was adorned with symbols of grand feasts, and her expression was one of eager anticipation.
"Behold!" the lead soldier cried, gesturing grandly at me. "The Great Porcelain One has arrived!"
The princess's eyes sparkled as she clapped her hands. "Oh, magnificent! The Chosen Bowl, in our midst at last!"
I tried to roll backward but found myself blocked by the soldiers who had wheeled me in. "Um… hi? I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding."
The princess leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. "Nonsense! You are the Chosen Bowl, the one foretold in the Scrolls of Sanitation! You have come to fulfill your destiny here in Farfartia."
"Destiny?" I asked, thoroughly confused. "Look, I'm just a talking toilet. I think you've got the wrong guy."
She laughed, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, modesty is always becoming of a true hero. But the scrolls do not lie! You are here to bring us… the Great Flush."
The entire hall burst into applause, the nobles cheering and waving handkerchiefs embroidered with their strange symbols. I was officially in over my tank.
But before I could try to reason with her again, the princess gave a signal, and a group of guards approached, their faces serious.
"Escort the Chosen Bowl to the royal dungeon," she declared with a satisfied grin. "Prepare him for his sacred duties."
"Wait, hold on!" I yelled as the guards began wheeling me away. "Sacred duties? What are you talking about?"
But the princess just smiled serenely as I was wheeled off, her expression as calm as if she'd just ordered an afternoon tea. "You'll see, dear Porcelain One. Soon, all will be clear."
As I was taken deeper into the castle, down a winding stone staircase, I could feel my nerves kicking in. I had no idea what this "Great Flush" was, and I wasn't sure I wanted to find out.