Plot Synopsis: The Golden Rule
Following the enchanted compass, Sam Smith finds himself in a barony ruled by a cruel and greedy warlord who taxes his subjects to the limits of whatever they can possibly afford, claiming that his knights are needed to protect them from the bandits and outlaws in the Wasteland. However, it soon becomes obvious to Sam that the people most need protection from his knights, who will pillage and plunder their towns and villages if the taxes are not paid.
Sam decides to take matters into his own hands and defend the citizens from the Baron and his knights, but quickly learns that even the laws of physics are subject to the whimsical laws of Faerie, for while in battle with a group of armored knights, Sam discovers that gunpowder refuses to work here.
To his horror, the gunpowder in his Colt revolvers explodes into harmless showers of sparks like Independence Day fireworks while the bullets simply tumble out the barrels of his guns onto the ground. Through a combination of luck and superior horsemanship, Sam dodges their sword blows and flees into the hills, barely escaping with his life. Later that evening Sam is caught in a torrential downpour, and forced to retreat beneath an overhanging boulder is quickly soaked the the skin.
"Great," Sam complains in disgust. "I'm cold, I'm wet, and I'm hiding from those knights like a damn coward. My guns don't work, and I can't even light a fire for fear they might see it. How do I get out of this situation?"
"I don't know, mortal," the horse replied in a pleasant feminine voice. "You got yourself into this mess, so it's only fair you should get yourself out of it."
Sam decides to take matters into his own hands and defend the citizens from the Baron and his knights, but quickly learns that even the laws of physics are subject to the whimsical laws of Faerie, for while in battle with a group of armored knights, Sam discovers that gunpowder refuses to work here.
To his horror, the gunpowder in his Colt revolvers explodes into harmless showers of sparks like Independence Day fireworks while the bullets simply tumble out the barrels of his guns onto the ground. Through a combination of luck and superior horsemanship, Sam dodges their sword blows and flees into the hills, barely escaping with his life. Later that evening Sam is caught in a torrential downpour, and forced to retreat beneath an overhanging boulder is quickly soaked the the skin.
"Great," Sam complains in disgust. "I'm cold, I'm wet, and I'm hiding from those knights like a damn coward. My guns don't work, and I can't even light a fire for fear they might see it. How do I get out of this situation?"
"I don't know, mortal," the horse replied in a pleasant feminine voice. "You got yourself into this mess, so it's only fair you should get yourself out of it."