Geekfest: a Quest with a Goat
It was a crisp evening as Shadow and (I) Wookiee strolled along the cosplay soaked fields of Geekfest. Merrily we made our way to the distant lands of archery to harass the the Cave Troll and his fellows at their stand. On the way to our destination we were bought to an abrupt stop upon hearing an alien rumbling in the distance. Carefully we headed in the direction of the bizarre din, and there, emerging from the trees, we encountered a majestic beast.
Towering above cosplayer and man, the mighty Hazard Goat wielding his glorious axe of +12 sound. His horns glistening in the setting sun. His large muscular legs wobbling under the immense weight of his weapons of joy -strapped to his back, and producing gleeful thundering rhythmic beats. His tail wagging to the beat of his boom box.
It was not our first encounter with this honourable creature. No, not at all. Our paths have crossed with his a few times before, and each encounter with this being is its own glorious adventure.
The Hazzard Goati is a nomadic minstrel that travels all over land, entertaining the masses with his unique brand of musical brand. The Goat, like many of his kind carries all manner of cabling, musical devices, armour, and an abundance of decorative lighting. To the common man the noble bard appears to be some form of cyber-satyr from the very depths of disco hell. (I don’t think he’s from Brakpan, mate. -Ed)
The lumbering beast towers above all who have come to watch him, the mighty bard does not disappoint. Across the fayre ground we dart from tree to tree, as he stops briefly to stabilise and entertain a few of smiling towns folk. As the light began to fade many of the con goers were slowly beginning to meander to the exits. Unfazed, our companion cranks up the volume, illuminates himself and the world around his hooves and heads for the bar tent. The remaining patrons that grace the tavern smile broadly as our mighty minstrel serenades all with his star craft. (See what I did there? -Ed). As the darkness encroaches and the last vestiges of light are purged from memory our companion bids us adieu and hurries off into the night. To bring joy and smiles to all around.
Shadow and myself stand at the bar and watch as the groovy sounds and bright multicoloured flashing lights dart around from stall to stall in the distance, always visible, always a legend. Even the great fire dancers nearby are put to shame as the mobile party never fades out of sight no matter how far he goes from us.
Shadow turns to me, and we agree with each other, this has indeed been been a gloriously weird day. (I didn’t turn to you. I was trying to see if there was any beer left. Your head was blocking the pub. -Ed)