Part 2: Cake: my heroic journey and epic escape from the clutches of doom

All the town screamed. Some in terror and some cackling with delight. There was nothing to be seen in the darkness. Nothing but Wizard Fire cascading through the heavens.

The lights returned suddenly, and lo and behold, on the stage was none other than the Sorceress Metric and her three musical minions. They had crept in under the cover of darkness, for if the guards had seen them, they would have put up a grand exposition and denied their entry.

She began her sorcery. It was like that of another land. Like German pop, 80's synth, psychedelic Pink Floyd songs of walls. Though much better than I am able to describe. Their spell fell like a mist over those taking shelter in the theater. Then suddenly, many lights, geometric in their ways shone throughout the structure. They danced in the air like magic, for magic they were indeed.

Then the rains died down and the atmosphere seemed less threatening than it had just prior to the blackout. The Sorceress and her minions had done what they came to do. The hour grew late and the event seemed to be drawing to an end. Would we get to see Cake this cold rainy night, or was our journey all for naught? It was already past the hour that these events usually subsided and weary travelers made their way back to their home lands.

The lights rose to normal proportions though the sun had already set. many theatre employs scuttled to the stage to bring out sound amplifying gadgets and strange doobly instruments. They even hanged an elaborate tapestry in honor of the Fellowship of Cake. Cake would play this night!

Oh joyous noise! The crowd cheered for them as they finally arrived. They made haste and played the most popular songs out of their expansive repertoire. They must finish by the stroke of midnight, or face massive consequences from the town ordinance.

Half way through, they made pause and gave the gift of a tree to a stranger. The greatest honor one could hope to receive from persons hailing from the land of Iconoclast. From music to life.

After they finished, my party made our weary trek home. Running into more, but minimal rain. Where I wrote in my internet diary,

"My friends and I went to a Cake concert featuring the Wombats and Metric. It changed venues last minute, and the thunderstorm caused a nearly two hour delay. But it was awesome!"

The End
Part 1

Part 1: Cake: my heroic journey and epic escape from the clutches of doom

I had just returned from the mystic land of Dragon*con when I was first offered the invitation. The musical fellowship of Cake was requesting audience in the nearby Park of White River State. I had eagerly accepted this invitation as I have often been told of their great works, and had borne witness to a variety of their more popular pieces. Fast following my acceptance of the invitation, I had begun the time of planning for the travelling of this short journey.

All seemed well until my beloved cousin mentioned that he had heard news of Cake's decision to instead hold the event in another land. This seemed preposterous as it was nearly time for my departure. My feathers had been ruffled in my realization that this news held true, and Cake would indeed be presenting their fine arts in the distant land of Klipsch. 

My cousin and I decided to band together along with his new and former housemates and a white mage to ensure our safe travel to the distant land. The road to which was long and littered with many other weary travelers' homeward bound quests, which would prove to make our adventure quite perilous indeed. 

Whilst on the road we told many tales, and pondered on the reasonings why the fellowship of Cake had made this last minute decision to change our destination. Could it be that this was all a ruse to confuse the enjoyers of Cake? Was this some dastardly ploy? Was the Cake a lie? Perhaps the evil anti-Cake, the Chocolate Cake, was just out to make our merriments full of despair. They would be sure to sing quite the opposite of the songs that we had grown to know well. We felt insistent that at our journey's end we should find not our beloved bardic fellowship, but instead a baked good with yet a single candle and the signature face of a troll. 

With ominous clouds billowing overhead we reached the modest Castle of Klipsch wherein presided many a meadery, pubs, and outlets for clothing goods. In the midst, stood the Grand Theatre of Klipsch. To enter into the town we were one by one subjugated to a mild search of our persons. Guards carefully checked our pockets and purses for any means or gadgets by which villains might cause harm to their otherwise law abiding patrons and guests. 

Once inside our party made way to the theatre where we were to choose our seating arrangements for the remainder of the night. Every seat was quite good. We were pleased that on the stage we saw no sign of baked goods. Many of our fears had melted away when we were reassured that the fellowship of Cake were in the vicinity and would be performing that night. 

I for one, was delighted to find out that not only were we to experience the arts of Cake, but we were also about to witness the foreign oddities of Wombat, a bardic band from the other side of the world hailing from Liverpool, and named for the exotic creature presiding in lands down under. Liverpooleans must be strange indeed as I am convinced that The Wombats are actually marsupialous wombats who are dressed as human men dressed in women's skinny pants. 

Alas, the Wombats proved to be evil wizards. Their enchanting tunes brought forth the storm of all storms. The ominous clouds from before turned the skies as black as night and rolled over blocking the sun from horizon to horizon. The cold hateful winds blew away the castle flags and leaves of trees into the theatre and onto every patron. Thunder and lightning threatened us from every direction. The local towns folk hurried to cover their most valuable structures and items from the impending rains.

Tears fell from the heavens in a monsoonious downpour. The sound of the drops from the clouds could be likened to that of dark soldiers marching into the castle. The lightning was a mighty fire breathing dragon. Fellow travelers scattered for their individual camps just outside the castle walls as others took cover under the faulty shelter provided by the theatre. The air grew colder and the rain dampened my garments. I put my thoughts to warmer days as I shivered under the pavilion. I should have thought to bring my overcoat. Then suddenly, the lights went out. 

End Part 1
Part 2