Clash With The Ottoman Empire . . .

   Julian found himself wandering aimlessly. He was lost. Not just lost as in  the sense he took a wrong turn in the meat aisle and couldn't find his mother, but lost in the sense that he had no idea where in the hell he was. He had been out of the forest for about two hours and was in the middle of a large corn field that seemed to have no end. Over top of him, a clear dark night loomed. Julian tried to climb atop a corn stalk to get his bearings, but the stalk merely crumbled, and the warrior tumbled to the ground. Should he turn back? No, he had to follow this through if anything to prove Bazil and Balanthalus wrong. Three
more hours went by.
    Julian stepped out of the field, with the feeling that he could never be able to watch children of corn again. As he got his bearings, Julian noted that he was in front of a small, seemingly deserted farmhouse. This house was far too small for that gigantic corn field, he thought. He walked hesitantly up the porch stairs, listening to them creak beneath him. Reaching the front door, he promptly knocked on it, and it promptly fell in. "That is a good enough welcome as any," Julian muttered softly. He stepped inside. "Anybody there?" He called. His voice echoed through the halls. Suddenly, the warrior was struck from behind. Knocked to the ground, Julian turned onto his back and started to get up, when he realized what had hit him. It was the door. The door had formerly seemed to be an old, simple wooden door. Now it had grown in mass, and had also grown a face.
    "How dare you enter the house of the haunted furniture," the door growled woodenly, "you are a tresspasser here. Guards, sieze him!" The last thing Julian remembered was being hit by an overly angry armchair.

Later (not much, just a tad)

    When Julian awoke, he realized he was moving. "This must have all been a dream," he thought out loud.
    "I am afraid not, my friend," said a voice next to him. Julian nearly fell out of the carriage in fright. Next to him was a finely
dressed man. He had the trapping of a famous hunter, but of what? "Myname is Argio, I saved you from those beast in the farmhouse."
    "Huh? How did you find me?"
    "I wasn't exactly looking for you. I am a furniture hunter, you see, I kill possessed furniture and sell their bodies to the king for gold. Great business, you know. More and more furniture is possessed everyday. But anyways, I raided that farmhouse and found that the piano was about to string you up, so I saved you and got some fine specimens in the process." He pointed to the back of the carriage. Attached to it was a large wagon, and on it sat broken pieces of the door that had attacked him, as well as pieces of a piano, two sofas, and a lamp.
    "The lake, I must get to the lake," Julian uttered desperately, though he wasn't sure why.
    "Oh, I see, you are one of those people," Argio said with disgust.  "Very well, you are in luck, there is a port town just ahead." Yet as they rode on, no signs of any town were visible.
    "Do you smell smoke?" Julian asked.
    "Yes, I wonder why, because the aroma is rather strong." As the rode further, they realized the cause of the smoke. The whole town had been burnt to the ground!
    "This is horrible!" cried Julian, always the humanitarian.
    "This is wonderful!" cried Argio. "You have no idea how much furniture will be possessed in the remains of this town. It won't be worth as much because it is scorched, but I can make up in quantity what I lack in quality."
    "But I need a boat to cross the lake"
    "You will not find a boat here, human, but that is the least of your worries." Argio and Julian turned in unison to come face-to-face with a demonic kitchen table and hordes of other furniture beasties grinning and licking their chops.

Next Chapter 1