The Amazing Adventure

  ***

  Deep in the forest, a quiet darkness was descending across the warm land. In a clearing, about an hour’s motorbike ride from the outcrop where the Dragons were roosting, Magnus and his crew sat at a long trestled table.

  Around the edge of the clearing torches had been thrust into the ground, each about the height of a man. The flames on top of each torch cast an orange glow that whipped at the shadows of the tree line. The table was laden with barbecued food, and several bears were digging in around the table, along with the humans.

  “This is brilliant!” Magnus out cried, eating a 2,000 calorie slab of what Eragor called the ‘BBQ meat explosion’.

  “I’m glad you approve” said the largest and most grizzled of all bears, flipping burgers and sausages that were spread across the grill. “It’s just bacon, more bacon, cheese, bacon, some beef, sausages and bacon. Something my papa taught me to make.”

  Eragor was massive, with dark fur, punctuated by red streaks. He had the look of a very wise creature despite his monstrous size, this was why he was called the ‘Great Bear’. Eragor was also very easily amused, and spent most of his time laughing, which made for quite an easy-going atmosphere wherever he went.

  “I heard you gave my son, Pierre, quite the run around this morning.” Eragor smiled at his son, who glared back. The rest of the group sitting at the table shared an awkward silence, not wanting to upset the bear by admitting to the attempted manslaughter of his firstborn.

  “Dad, I’ve told you, they fired a rocket launcher!” Pierre sulked.

  “Get over yourself, I’ve had many a rocket fired at me. Regardless, it was just jovial banter, isn’t that right guys?” The bear grinned. But, because he was a bear, it seemed more like a sharp knife display.

  “Haha, yeah, banter!” Alex said, punching Pierre who was sitting next to him. Ginge glared at him and Harvey froze. Eragor just laughed.

  “Ah, you lads, having fun, makes me proud! So tell me, what brings you to this planet? Actually don’t tell me, I can figure this out.” The Bear stopped tending the BBQ to scratch his chin, a very clichéd pose in the world of thinking. “You’re here for the KISS concert right? It’s going to be mega radical.”

  “Are they even still going? Surely they should be dead by now or something?” Magnus asked him, looking up and along the table.

  “Ah, well, technically it’s Robo-KISS, but the intention and heart is still there, literally. So not KISS, what about that new band? What’s his face, Justin Beaver*?”

  “I would rather roll around in petrol and set fire to my own armpit hair while two hundred midgets stabbed me with pitchforks than listen to that crap.” Leo said with an indignant air of distaste.