The Drapeau of Saint Germain

"Maybe, in a later post I will pose as a protagonist on a mission to retrieve a treasure of great importance." I never meant this statement from my previous post to be a empty promise, and now here is the foreshadowed, embellished story of my mission to purchase a Paris Saint Germain flag. (PSG is a European football - or soccer - club located in Paris.)

I know a secret. This secret has been passed down through the ages in remote monestaries where speechless monks broke their vows for the sole purpose of ensuring that the secret would live on. As the story, or myth as some would say, goes, sometime during the middle ages a small group of alchemists and apothecaries stumbled upon the secret to great power. Fearful for their lives and the lives of their families, they chose not to wield the power themselves but instead wove the power into a handful of colorful, powerful tapestries. Many of these tapestries have not survived to this day, but there are a select few that have.

This is where I enter the story. Crazy things happen in Amsterdam, and by one crazy chance accident, I became privileged to discover this secret. Immediately I acted, and after a return trip to Amsterdam, I had aquired one of the lost tapestries, the Vlaggetje of the Mokum. Since that fateful day, I have also discovered two of the Lesser Tapestries of the Land of the Gauls.

Recently, I discovered the hidden location of another of the Greater Tapestries, so under the pretense of a common tourist I grabbed a handful of companions and embarked on a trip to Paris, France, to retrieve the Drapeau of Saint Germain. Due to the rise of an elite, power-hungry group known only as The G14 who would do anything to possess the information I have, I knew I had to move fast. After a day of scouring the city and all of its famous clues, I finally came across what I was looking for: a small, non-descript building that housed the treasure that I sought.

The store was a shrine of sorts, and hung on all of the plain white walls were signs and symbols of the various lost tapestries. On one wall hung an indication of the White Tapestry of the Real Crown; on another hung the dark armor of Munich. Across the building hung the contrasting red and blue of the Milano Brace Tapestries. I knew I was in a place of vast significance; a place that I could never reveal to anyone for fear that they might be spies for the infamous G14. And finally, like a sight to sore eyes I saw what I was looking for. More beautiful than gold, more stunning than silver, the Red and Navy of Saint Germain drew me to the far wall, covered in brilliant adornments.

I searched every inch of the wall, in and out of the runes of Saint Germain, but there was no sign of my treasure. As far as I knew, the G14 had discovered the secrets that I had previously held in solitude, and had nabbed the Drapeau of Saint Germain before I had the chance. Devistated, I slumped off of the hallowed ground knowing that I had failed my mission.

The next day I knew there was no point in staying in Paris since my trip had been a failure. Since it was Paris, though, I enjoyed the great sights one more time before heading home. But then a new hope arose in me. Just one hour before I was scheduled to leave, I decided to give one last effort to finding the sacred tapestry. So I asked a humble souvenier shop worker who surprisingly gave me hope. "The object of your quest is located on the Shawnsa Leezay." The name sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place it until suddenly, like a beam of sun breaking through the clouds, it hit me. Champs Elysées. Apparently I don't know my French pronunciation very well, but I suddenly realized what he was talking about and took off on a dead sprint toward the Arc de Triomphe. I had no time to lose; I sprinted past the vast, proud structure onto a large, busy street. Frantically I searched for some sign of my quarry. There, across the street, stood another souvenier stand; it was my only hope. I raced across the perilous avenue, knowing that the future of all things good was in my hands, and I didn't have a moment to spare. Out of breath I asked the worker there for any information he could give me. "You're too late," he claimed, "but I can sell you this scarf."

Once again, my heart sank. There were two logical explanations: either the man was completely unaware of the power of the Drapeau of Saint Germain, or he was a conniver for the G14. But my mind, in it's frantic state, had settled on a third thought: I was too late. Once again, I came to grips with the fact that I had failed my quest. Slowly, I walked down the great street in search of a metro station that would bring me back to the train station.

My two faithful companions until this point have gone unmentioned, but they play an important part in this tale. As we reached the metro, one companion happened, most likely by something beyond mere chance, to notice a building across the street covered in navy and red. My heart for the third time bubbled with hope as she pointed this out to me, so we darted across the busy Champs Elysées once more and rushed into the building. And there, upon the top floor, my other companion spotted the Greater Tapestry. It was beautiful! The Drapeau of Saint Germain! Quickly, I grabbed the treasure and ran knowing that I was now in great peril, and that I needed to catch my train back to the Netherlands.