Game of Notes: The Quest for The Holy Chalice of Lord Stanley - Chapter I

This is the first installment of a planed series throughout the season, as our brave warriors in Blue sprint towards Hockey's Holy Grail.

Chapter I - The Interrupted Coronation

Suddenly, the dark fog was lifted.

As it began to clear, and the haze gave way to the sunlight once more, the people throughout the land of Shinny slowly began to move. First their fingers and toes, then their arms and legs, until all the subjects of the realm once again came to life.

In the royal court, where most of the kingdom of Saint Louis had gathered, a proclamation from the esteemed Christopher Kerber that had begun several months earlier finally reached their conclusion:

"-sent to you for the first time, King Thomas the First, of the House of Stillman!"

The crowd cheered their new King, the one who would surely lead their knights of Blue to a long sought glory - for a moment. Then, slowly, it hit them one by one. They had been frozen in limbo for months. But why, and by whom? A look of puzzlement were scrunched on each of their faces, save one.

Then the newly crowned monarch arose, with an air of confidence. "Lord Hitchcock, Hand to the King, to my quarters immediately!" he bellowed.

"What in Gretzky's name happened, Your Grace?" Hitchcock asked, as the King shut the door behind them.

"We were cursed, Kenneth. Forced by some sort of black magic to stand as still as a statue as time ran past us for months," he replied plainly. He moved to the desk to his right, leaned on it, then slammed his fist in anger. "On MY CORONATION DAY!"

"The realm was thriving and prosperous once more - who would've done this?" queried Lord Hitchcock, his jowls trembling as he spoke. King Thomas glared at the Hand. The anger blazed so brightly in his eyes that they reflected off of Hitchcock's pale, white hair.

"Three times in a generation this curse has been put upon the great realm of Shinny and you still must ask such a question?"

"Surely even the Evil Witch Bettman isn't thick enough to cast the same spell on us all again? And even if she were, she would require the assistance of other Kings."

"She is, and she would," answered the King. "No doubt the rulers of the kingdoms of New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, Minnesota, Detroit, and Boston have banded together to sully our day of our era's dawn."

"But why would they align themselves with The Witch, Your Grace?"

"I confess, that I do not yet know. What I do know, however, is that revenge must be served." The anger in his voice slowly melted into inspiration as he spoke. "For too long the land of Saint Louis has lived in the shadow The Witch and the kingdoms of her preference. But our knights are ready for the glory this land has to see them earn. As our revenge, we shall rip The Witch Bettman's most prized possession straight from her hands."

"You mean..."

"The Holy Chalice of Lord Stanley."

Lord Hitchcock knew what had to be done. "I shall call upon my men at once! Sir Backes, The Inglorious, Sir Pietrangelo, The Reliable, Sir Jackman, The Assertive, Sir Steen, The Long of Nose, Sir Oshie, The Rad, and Sir Perron, The French-Canadian are all ready for battle. In the names of Bernie, Brett, and the Plagers Three, the Knights of Blue shall not fail in this holy quest!"

The Hand began to leave the room, purpose filling his every move. Then The King stopped him. "The journey will be arduous, and you are sure to suffer injuries along the way. When you men are weary, and can fight no longer, tell them these words of inspiration lead your Blues to glory."

"Yes, My King?"

"Fornicate Detroit."



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