The Misadventure of Marvin The Magnificient

Chapter 3:The Whispering Thicket and the Quest for Common Sense

Chapter 3: The Whispering Thicket and the Quest for Common Sense

The forest smelled like wet leaves, pine sap, and poor decisions.

“Let me get this straight,” Relka whispered as the trio crept through the underbrush. “You volunteered to investigate a cursed forest with no experience, no map, and a talking goat?”

“Technically,” Marvin whispered back, “I was recruited by fate. Also, the goat recruited me.”

“I regret many things,” Bartholomew muttered, swatting a fern with his tail. “You’re one of them.”

The Whimpering Thicket was not a forest in the traditional sense. It whined. Softly. Constantly. The trees trembled like they had seasonal anxiety. The branches groaned in melodramatic tones. The moss squelched in ways moss should never squelch.

“This place is weird,” Marvin said, eyes wide with wonder.

“This place is a lawsuit waiting to happen,” Relka replied, drawing her daggers. “Let’s find what’s scaring the townsfolk, solve it, and get out before one of us gets cursed with hiccups that kill.”

Half an hour in, they found a tree with a face.

Not like a carving.

A literal, talking, vaguely annoyed face.

“‘Ello,” it grumbled as they passed. “You’re not fungi, are you?”

“Er… no?” Marvin said.

“Good. Fungi are rude. Always borrowing sugar, never returning it.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Relka said, carefully stepping around the roots.

“You better,” the tree said, then muttered something unprintable about spores.

Bartholomew stopped beside it. “What’s your opinion on cursed sandwiches?”

The tree eyed him. “Only thing worse than fungi. Good day.”

“Charming fellow,” Marvin said.

“He’s one of the more sociable ones,” Relka replied.

Deeper into the thicket, the air grew thicker, darker. The trees leaned in. Shadows whispered things like “turn back,” “beware,” and “you left your laundry in the wash.”

“Wait,” Marvin said, stopping abruptly. “Do you hear that?”

Relka and Bartholomew both turned.

“Hear what?” Relka asked.

“The... flapping.”

It was subtle at first. Like wet paper slapping itself in slow motion.

Then louder.

Then right in front of them.

FWAP.

A large creature—part bat, part sandwich, all nightmare—swooped down from the canopy and landed with a splat.

“Oh no,” Bartholomew whispered. “It’s the Sandwichgeist.”

“The what?” Marvin yelped.

“I told you that sandwich was cursed!”

The creature squawked, unfolded a wing made entirely of bread, and screamed in what sounded like mustard-based fury.

“RUN!” Relka shouted.

They tore through the forest, dodging vines, hopping roots, and swatting away angry leaves.

“This is your fault!” Relka shouted as they ran.

“I was hungry!” Marvin yelled back.

The Sandwichgeist flapped behind them, trailing lettuce and spectral sauce.

They burst into a small glade and immediately stopped. In the center stood a stone pedestal, overgrown with ivy. On it sat a small, glowing orb.

The Sandwichgeist hissed and hovered at the edge of the glade, unwilling to enter.

Marvin stepped forward. “Well that’s definitely suspicious.”

“You’re not touching that orb,” Relka said. “We don’t even know what it is.”

Marvin squinted. “I think it’s a... Plot Device?”

Bartholomew snorted. “That’s a Mana Beacon, you absolute walnut.”

Marvin reached out anyway—and the moment his fingers brushed it, a pulse of energy rippled through the glade.

The Sandwichgeist let out a mournful honk, exploded into harmless sandwich bits, and vanished into the trees.

Relka blinked. “Well. That... worked?”

Marvin held up the orb. “I feel... warm. Powerful. Like I could almost pass a basic spell exam.”

“Be careful,” Bartholomew said, eyes narrowed. “That beacon wasn’t just sitting here for fun. Something or someone left it.”

Relka nodded. “We need to find out who. And why.”

Marvin struck a dramatic pose. “Then it’s settled. We’re no longer just travelers. We’re on a mission.”

“Technically,” Bartholomew said, “we’re still three idiots in a forest.”

“And I’m still not a sandwich necromancer,” Marvin added. “So that’s progress.”

They turned to leave the glade, unaware of the dark silhouette watching from the shadows.

It smiled.

And whispered, “Soon.”