It just so happened that it was a dark and stormy night. The thick-as-two-short-planks guard huddled miserably under the scant shelter of the heavy stone lintel that graced the enormous oak door of the isolated inn. As the leather-clad guard watched, with no sign of interest, or flicker of intelligence in his vacant eyes, the glossy black coach (drawn by four perfectly matched thoroughbred horses) raced under the windlashed trees that lined the muddy carriage-way. A fortuitous flash of lightning illuminated the scene as the immaculate coach halted dramatically in the exact centre of the court yard, and the liveried hunch back driver cracked his whip above the sweating horses heads. Incidentally it struck an oak tree, the oldest tree in the area, splitting it down the middle. The two lead horses reared to show their high strung natures; shining hooves and freshly groomed fetlocks moving in perfect synchronicity as they pawed the air, whinying to announce the arrival of SOME SPECIAL PEOPLE. A stable boy materialised from the rather large and professional stable block, essential to the day to day running of every run-down, shabby looking inn in the exotic far off land of Watteverovia. He was a half-starved cheeky little urchin, with a lopsided smile and a face only a mother could love. He had a cynical turn of phrase and was smarter than he let on. For some unknown reason horses just loved him. As the hunchbacked driver of the emblazoned coach dropped his whip and jumped down from the box seat, the stable boy decided to keep well out of the way for now. He knew his opportunity for a small scene of his own would come later; somebody would be desperate to escape in the night on horseback, and would require his help. If he played his cards right, he would get to go along and be promoted to side-kick status. He slouched back to the cosy hayloft for a jug of mead and a brief flirtation with a barmaid of ill repute. This flirtation will come to nothing, as it is all a work of desparate deceipt to hide the fact that the stable boy is in fact a girl. A girl however, with secret but essential knowledge to the plot. She'll scrub up to be very shapely indeed - although you'd never know it from her cunning disguise of a bad hair cut and scruffy clothes. A dramatically handsome man stepped down from the coach, ignoring the coachman as he turned to let his dark silk cape swirl behind his well toned body (exposing his sword which is obviously worth a kings ransom) while he held his hand out to a mysterious cloaked stranger with a chest the size of a cabin trunk. Somehow, this never fell out of the two scraps of gold sewing cotton that passed for her top (she came from even more exotic climes where everybody wore that sort of stuff all the time and it wasn't rude at all) The couple entered the inn, completely ignoring the pointless and stupid guard. The inn immediately falls silent. They headed directly to the best table and a young man, who looks to be exactly the same age as the handsome strange man, heads over to serve them. The handsome man looks up at the serving man and smiles. His teeth are so white the reflection of the candle light off them is blinding. It is immediately obvious that they are two coats cut from the same cloth. The serving man doesn't notice, as he has never owned anything as posh as a mirror. Everyone else in the inn stares. It's like before and after a fashion makeover. Whispers run round the room so fast they sound like the sea tossing in the storm. "My name is Prince Twinone and this is Magesta the fatally attractive mage." said the handsome man. "Do you know why we are here?" The serving man shrugs "Cos you're hungry?" "What is your name, boy?" Prince Twinone asks, his voice full of deep meaning which goes completely over the serving mans simple head. "I haven't got a name." The serving man replied "I was left abandoned on the doorstep by a mysterious dead guardsman with nothing but an ermine and sable cloak, a sword exactly like yours and this strange birthmark to give me any clue about me" He paused to pull up his sleeve and show them all the crown shaped birthmark with the writing underneath. "My friend the stable lad said those letters look like K and I and N and G, but I can't read so I don't know what they spell." As the magnificently dressed couple stared at him, he happily started to describe the menu on offer that evening. "Well, there's stew of course, and of course there is bread and cheese, or stew with bread, or..." Prince Twinone announced in a thoroughly melodramatic voice "Your name is Prince Twintwo, and you should be king of all Watteverovia, but our fathers evil vizier took over the kingdom and disposed of you. We have come to take you to your destiny." He was interrupted by the overly beautiful mage "You are the heir to an enormous kingdom full of people who will try their best to kill you when they find you, so we must all go on a fiendishly complicated mission that will take at least three one-thousand page volumes to record in order to find a mysterious object, and possibly to beat a god so that we can save the world. I'll have the stew." "Um, I'm sorry, but I have to finish my chores here" the serving man said "One plate of stew coming up." He hurried off towards the kitchens, thinking to himself "Now, if I knew how to ride a horse, I could escape from these mad people, in the middle of the night would be best..........." You know what's going to happen next don't you? Shanna :-)