Krod Mandoon and the Flaming Sword of Fire (2009) s01e01 Episode Script

In the darkest days
of the cruel Makonian empire,
with the people's rebellion
all but crushed,
ragged bands of freedom fighters
refused to yield.
Bereft of leadership,
the resistance floundered
until, from the depths of despair,
there rose a glimmer of hope,
the son of a blacksmith
and a stay-at-home mom.
His name was Krod Mandoon.
Were Krod and his comrades
the answer
to his oppressed people's prayers?
Oak.
The odds were long against them.
Hold, lad.
I see you have neither the courtesy
nor the good sense
to disarm in a tavern
full of myrmidon guards.
Forgive me.
These are dangerous times
for a loyal subject of the crown.
Hail, Emperor Zanus!
Wench, stand this good man
a flagon of mead.
I have just come from Harkouf.
Resistance fighters there
have been liberating the slave pens.
Have you heard these reports?
Aye,
they say it was the work
of Krod Mandoon.
- Because I heard that I'm sorry?
- He's a scourge.
A scourge.
- I like that.
- Mark me.
There's a cell in Dongalor's dungeon
set aside
for the worm-faced Mandoon.
- Worm-faced?
- Focus.
Would that be the same dungeon
that holds that traitor
General Arcadius?
Indeed.
But enough talk of rebel dogs.
I see from these runes
you're from the new world.
I am.
My father carved this sheath
when I sailed from my homeland.
"Hroath g'blon brack rothan."
- What does that mean?
- Gibberish. My father was illiterate.
But
this side bears my name.
Don't move. You're surrounded.
Surrounded?
By a girl,
a grobble,
and a leprechaun?
Leprechaun?
They're calling me a leprechaun.
Now put your keys on the bar,
or his next arrow finds your skull.
Give my regards
to Chancellor Dongalor.
Let me just ask you a quick question,
warrior to warrior.
The worm-face thing.
- What's that about?
- No. Krod. Krod!
I know it's probably just a taunt,
but, you know, a label like that
finds its way into a ballad,
and, boom, you're the worm-face guy.
And we've lost him.
- Is there a term you prefer?
- Well, first of all, thank you.
Let me think here.
"Kind"? No, no, scratch that.
We're not writing a personal ad.
By the gods!
The Captain's been shot!
If you're talking about this arrow,
it was already there.
Who are you, dog?
My name is Krod Mandoon.
And I am Loquasto, his slave.
And I am Zezelryck, his sorcerer.
And I am Aneka.
His girlfriend.
If you're going to tumble,
you shouldn't wear that.
- They saw everything.
- Everything.
Attack!
Aneka!
What the hell was that?
It just does that sometimes.
- You think I should get it looked at?
- Yeah! Do I think? Yes!
Fire!
No more crossbow for you ever!
Sorry, master.
Want these, do you, love?
- What are you willing to do for em?
- Whatever it takes.
Zez, tame the fire
with your wizardry!
I'm on it! Flames abate,
says the man Zezelryck.
Flames, flames, go away.
Come again another day.
This tavern must be protected
by some sort of magic blocking aura.
- Then douse the fire somehow!
- OK.
- That was lamp oil.
- You don't think they should label it?
Abort, abort!
Everybody out!
Mission over!
Aneka!
OK, that time,
I didn't even see underwear.
Excuse me, Chancellor Dongalor?
- What else, Barnabus?
- A query from the Emperor, sire.
He wants to know
how you intend to deal
with the rising rebellion
here in Hessemeel.
Rebellion?
General Arcadius is behind bars.
There is no rebellion without him.
Specifically, sire,
he inquired
about the upstart Krod Mandoon.
Mandoon?
Please!
I knew him at the military academy.
He envied me.
As you can imagine,
I was pretty popular.
Halt!
Who doubts me?
Barnabus.
You were my footman back
in my academy days.
Tell them,
and speak freely.
Now, sir, forgive my poor memory,
but I don't recall
your being popular.
Maybe not campuswide,
but I had my crew:
Santu Moosnockle, Hans Veck,
Jonsie the Younger, those guys.
In any event, tell them
about the time I thrashed Krod
in front of all the cadets.
Surely you remember that.
And, again,
be honest.
Being honest, yes.
I do recall Mandoon
raining blows down upon you,
relenting only when you sobbed,
albeit it very bravely, for mercy.
Yes, and as he turned away
in disgust,
who threw the rock
at the back of his head?
- One of your slaves, sir.
- And victory was mine.
It was yours. It was.
Now, enough talk of Mandoon.
You may assure the Emperor
the only thing he has to fear
is me.
Can have your attention?
My name's Krod Mandoon.
I'll be your liberator this evening.
Now, obviously, I would want
to shake everyone's hand,
but I have a bit
of a chest cold, you know?
Oh, god. OK, OK. Good.
On your way.
I'm going to need you
to burn everything I'm wearing.
I'm right on it.
- When I'm done wearing them.
- Right.
Better smarter.
Yeah, you know, it's not easy making
the transition into civilian life.
Trust me; I know.
So if you need a shoulder to cry on
I was born in this dungeon.
I never seen the sun.
It's hot, and it's yellow.
Now scram!
What are you doing? I'm talking.
Now, where were we?
Hessemeel!
Not much of a province, is it?
Bit of a laughingstock,
if we're being honest.
We haven't the commerce of Farujah,
the agriculture of Colostrum,
the vibrant art scene
of Harkouf.
And now that
the Mulkavian whore caravans
no longer make winter camp
within our borders,
even our legendary sex tourism
has vanished.
What we have, nobles
is nothing.
But that
is about to change,
all thanks
to the Eye
of Galga Gremda
The deadliest weapon
of the ancient world,
lost for millennia
but recently unearthed
by the finest child labor
ever to feel the lash.
Sire.
The eye was buried for good reason.
It very nearly destroyed the world.
Its deadly beam turned fertile valleys
into barren wastelands.
You know your history, Vanameer.
Are you prepared for your future?
But, sire, with such a weapon
in your possession,
do you not fear reprisals
from the Emperor?
With such a weapon in my possession,
Vanameer, I fear nothing!
Apart from turtles.
Horrible creatures.
They give me the willies.
Enough nonsense!
Turn the eye over to the Emperor,
or I'll inform him myself
of your treasonous boast.
Will you, Lord Comstock?
Sir.
- Yeah?
- This is Lord Comstock.
- That was Lord Conover.
- Is it?
Oh, yeah.
I thought we were going
to get names carved
in the back of chairs.
Did that not happen?
Let's make that an action item,
shall we?
Guards, seize him!
Now, where were we?
No, completely lost focus.
OK, let's take five.
Barnabus, send out
for juice and muffins.
Cranberry all right?
Nope, sorry.
- Enjoy your freedom.
- Wait!
You can't let this man go free.
He's not a political prisoner.
He's a horse raper.
- He lays with horses.
- Is this true?
Lie.
He said he fancied me as well.
He asked me to whinny.
- Listen
- Horst.
- Last name?
- Draper.
Horst Draper.
I think I can see
where the name might be causing some
Look, go free.
And if you absolutely have
to lay with a horse,
- make it one of theirs.
- OK, I'll do that.
- Thanks.
- All right.
- That's the last of them, Krod.
- What? But the General?
Curse the bastards! We're too late.
Krod.
General Arcadius.
I've come to free you
from this hellhole.
As I knew one day you would.
Rise.
You must be the lovely Aneka.
It's an honor, sir.
May I say, sir, you look well.
Dungeon life
obviously agrees with you.
I credit love for my vitality.
Of course.
Mrs. Arcadius eagerly awaits your return
at the safe house on Lake Kamada.
Actually, Krod, I was referring
to my love for Bruce.
Right.
Refresh my memory, sir.
Bruce is one of your lieutenants.
No, Krod.
Bruce
is my everything.
I think we got a situation.
The General told me all about you
except how yummy you are.
- You work out?
- Some upper body,
some light cardio
Excuse me.
May I have a quick word?
Am I in command of all the facts?
You and Bruce?
Sir, I had no idea you
Do you know how long
I've been locked away
in this dank and fetid dungeon?
Well, yeah.
Two weeks.
And it's co-ed, so
Will this affect your ability
to accept my command?
Sir, I'd follow you
into the yawning gates of hell.
Good lad.
Then lock up these men, and we'll away.
Wait! Quasto, don't!
That went very well.
- I think everyone was rather surprised.
- Yes, Lord Conover especially.
He was a good man.
Yes, send a suckling pig to his widow
and some flowers,
maybe a nice bottle of asti.
And how long would you say
before she's fair game?
Your attention could only bring her
comfort in her hour of grief.
So one hour of grief, then.
Lovely.
Now, what say we take the eye
down to the marshes
and lay waste
to some awful little village, like
- What's that one you're from again?
- Come on. Have a little think, sire.
If we were to detonate
the eye from the marshes,
we'd only lay waste to ourselves.
It must be fired
from an elevated vantage point.
Even better.
We'll have it hauled up
to Mount Kamada,
ice down a pony keg of grog,
round up some wenches,
and make a weekend of it.
That's a delightful plan, sire.
Now, unfortunately,
we've not yet unlocked the key
to the eye's operation.
Wait a minute.
We believe the ancient
hieroglyphs hold the key,
and our finest scholars
are decoding them as we speak.
- Have you threatened them with death?
- Oh, I have, sir, yes.
- And killed one to rouse the others?
- Of course.
And given goody bags to the survivors
to let them know they're welcome here?
It isn't my first day.
I know. I'm just excited.
Yes, so am I.
The dungeons have been breached.
Mandoon!
No, it's too heavy.
Zez, can you throw a little magic
to the problem?
Yeah, definitely.
I need y'all to get back
if I'm going to do this.
In the name
of the unseen watching eyes,
I command you, gate,
to obey and rise.
Rise!
Don't go back down.
Did you see what it just did?
It went up and it went right back down.
- Why would it do that?
- OK, great. Thanks.
We need another plan
to get out of here.
- Them, they'll know.
- Krod
Not now.
All I need is five minutes
alone with him.
No way, no. I forbid you.
You forbid me.
- Since when do you control my actions?
- Since you became my girlfriend.
Well, your girlfriend is a pagan.
I don't have your sexual hang-ups.
- You said you were OK with that.
- Yeah, because I thought it meant
the occasional threesome
and some light bondage.
I didn't know
you'd bone-jack the enemy.
Sex is just another weapon
in my arsenal.
Please.
Do you even know
how we got the keys to this dungeon?
I got them my way,
the same way I got the night watchman
in Harkouf to let us pass
and the sheriff in Kalkag
to hide us
- You used your
- And why do you think
the cobbler in Douvan told us
what time it was?
You gave it up for the time of day?
We were standing underneath a clock!
What the hell is wrong with you?
No, who else? I want names, Aneka.
- I don't have their names.
- Faces?
I didn't always get a good look.
Tell us another way out of here,
or, by the gods,
I will thrust my blade
deep inside of you.
- Yum.
- Cool it, Bruce.
There, by the wall.
The rebels, they dug a tunnel
through the sewer.
We patched it with mortar.
Quasto.
Now dig.
Stop digging!
It's a rat! Rat, rat!
It's a rat!
I open up the floor to other options.
- This is our only option.
- Apparently not.
We could have Aneka drain the enemy
of their bodily fluids and walk out.
You're pathetic.
That was awkward.
I'm going through the hole.
Y'all need to work that out.
Come on.
Quasto, don't let no rats get on me.
- Baby, get my bag.
- Which one?
- The one with the toys in it.
- Nice.
Krod, we have to go.
The salami wagon just rolled up.
Don't you want to drop to your knees
and roll out the pagan welcome mat?
Go to hell.
- Aneka, wait.
- Wench trouble, Mandoon?
Dongalor.
General!
Hang in there, sir.
You're going to be OK.
He's as good as dead, Mandoon.
And so is your pathetic resistance.
It'll take more than one arrow to kill
the greatest General that ever lived.
That'll probably do it, though.
General
I failed you.
No, Krod.
You've only proven
what I've known all along.
You are
Ay, papi,
What happened? Hold me, Arcadius.
Please, just hold me.
Bruce,
you insatiable meerkat.
OK, guys, can I just get one minute?
Sir, you were saying
I am
Engamora.
Let's go.
"Engamora."
Interesting, no?
What is that,
gay for "good-bye" or
Who here knew about Arcadius?
Why does no one tell me the
prison gossip?
I feel very left out.
All right, chaps.
How we getting on?
Let me know if you need anything
coffee, snacks, whores.
Do you recall Arcadius' last word?
No. Was it "meerkat"?
Engamora. Yeah, I know.
I knew I knew it. I couldn't
Well, Engamora happens
to be a prophesy.
It chronicles the overthrow
of the empire
at the hands of wait for it
a lowborn swordsman.
Now, that must mean
Arcadius believed
That swordsman was Krod Mandoon.
Yes, sir.
Is that even possible?
It was more than possible.
It was Krod's immutable fate
Right, I see.
Was that you?
No, I thought it was you.
A fate he could not have fathomed
that night as he stared into the fire.
His heart heavy with grief
over the loss of his mentor,
General Arcadius.
Surrounded by his closest allies,
a dubiously empowered warlock,
an ever faithful grobble,
a libidinous pagan warrioress,
and his late mentor's
buried jailhouse boytoy.
Don't leave me, Archie
But there were
many battles still ahead
to his prophetic destiny.
Where's my sword?
Not the least of which
raged in his own hand.
Gods, I'm such an idiot.
Just retrace your steps, master.
I had it when I got out of the sewer
'cause I disinfected it.
An unlikely band of heroes
bound by common cause
and led by a self-proclaimed idiot.
I found it.
Glory awaited.
No, that's not it.
And waited.
Guys, a little help?
And waited.
You check the fire?
Did I check the fucking
Let me see. No, it's not in the fire.
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