Tuesday, 24 January 2017

Knackers for cloak hooks (prologue)

'Hey sprinks, its all well and good having this blog but is there any chance of some BLOODY CONTENT?!!!'. Funny you should ask because, well....yeah.

  'Give him a flagon of sour wine and his pick of the goats and get him back to his hovel by sun down. That o.k. for you, em....oh what was your name again...oh you peasants all look the same to me', Boomed Yanic, lord of the northern shores and warden of the waters from the plinth he occupied at the far end of the great hall. 'I...Im tom yr lordshipness, tom dropsy of smudge.'ventured the ragged clump of rags and muck knelt at the foot of the lords plinth. 'Tom dropsy? odd sort of name' replied Lord Yanic. 'it..its because me fatha gave me Tom yr loirdy and me uncle gave me the dropsy'. 'Urgh yes well..er...very good well done. now, guards if you would be so kind'. Yanic gestured to the guards at the sides of the main doors. With out a look they moved as one and grabbed tom under his admittedly disgusting armpits and dragged him roughly towards the doors. 'Oh thanks ya lordness for your kindness' babbled tom as he was manhandled away, his voice fading as he was pulled through the entrance and down the corridor. 'You is the bestest lord we av ever been serving and that's no li..AWWOW!'. The remaining guards filed out of the hall and with a bow closed the great doors for the last time that day. Yanic stretched his arms 'well thats another days judgments and wisdom dealt out, time to drink, feast and make lude remarks to the surving wenches. God i'm great at being a lord'. 'Quite so my lord' said a pile of musty brown robes on the stone chair at the side of Yanics own larger throne. 'Will his lordship be needing the runes read this evening?'. 'Ah Magnusson i almost forgot you were there, no reading thanks you may go about your works'. 'Are you sure?' asked the druid hopefully 'might bring you the luck of the gods, you've always loved the luck of the gods ever since you was loin high to a lamb'.'Magnasson' said Yanic turning to face his wrinkled wise man. 'How long have you been seeker of the gods for my family?'. 'Well as you know your lordship i was made to office by your grandfather after the last rune reader had that incident with the trout pate, then i served your father till he passed and now i'm with you' answered the old man proudly. 'And in all that time how often exactly have the gods deemed you worthy to receive an answer to your questions?'. Magnasson shuffled in his seat 'very busy your gods' he ventured 'what with all the manifesting and hexing and what have you'. 'How many? demanded Yanic calmly. 'Well all told... if you include the last moon and the weeks chantings,.. not to forget the solstice its roughly...at a guess...about' Magnasson replied counting off on his thin fingers as he did. 'Its none isnt it' said Yanic bluntly, 'nothing, nada, never. In fact, as a rune priest you have all the success of a paraplegic in an egg and spoon race!'. Magnasson looked hurt. 'What about seven moons ago, isaminit, god of badly made puddings answered after that night of feverish chanting and reflection' chanced the priest. 'Ah yes i remember that one' answered Yanic. 'And what message did he choose to bestow on his faithful servant?'. Magnasson looked at his feet and shuffled 'I dont recall' he said, sulking. 'Coarse you do, what type of priest forgets a word from his sponsors?'. 'Its not important' mumbled the wise man 'did you mention a feast, im starving, its these lo....'. 'MAGNASSON!' bellowed Yanic. The old priest folded his arms in a huff and looked away. 'He said 'we're out haunting at the moment but your faith is important to us, please leave a message and we will get back to you as soon as eternally possible'. never rated him anyway, i was going for one of the top gods like, you know, poxy Dave or the majestic seth, hindquarters of the lower cosmos!. The real all seeing types'.
At that moment the great doors flew open and a sweaty jumble of rags and filth stumbled to his knees before the plinth followed by a red faced guard shouting 'Oi, i told you his lordship is retired for the day now get back here before i feed your tackle to the dogs!'.' Please your lordship, they burned it all, the took them and they burned it, burned it all!'. Yanic gathered himself and gestured to the guard to hold back. 'What, who took who and burned what?, what are you wittering on about?'. The pile of rags lifted his tired looking face from the floor and wiped away his tears from his eyes (which served to cover his face in the muck from his forearm). 'The raiders me lord, the animals from the sea, they comes for us last dawnlight with axes and swords and fire, they killed those what fought back and carried off the rest. Soon as they come they were gone and everythin was aflame lord, its all gone!'. 'What bloody raiders?, am i the only one that is confused here, where did they come from, what did they look like?' demanded lord Yaric in his biggest Lord Yaric voice. They comes from north me lord and they look...they look spikey and bloody, helms like skulls of animals and creatures fro the pits. They was terrorfyin lord and i wi never forgets them lord, never till me dying day!'. 'Oh no' whispered Magnasson,... 'They came back'. 'What, who, faces like spiked animals in a pit, what the bloODY HELL IS EVERYONE GOING ON ABOUT!', screamed lord Yaric. 'The bloodborne my lord, the crimson brohers. They were the scourge of the northern waters during your grandfathers time, taking villages at will and burning the fields. Its sacrifices they want for their rituals. They do unimaginable things to them my lord, things so awful you would never believe it'. Explained Magnasson. 'They take the skins for waterproofs, very useful if you spend so much time at sea i suppose, and they use intestines for belts, spleens for braids, scalps for sunhats, even knackers for cloak hooks!'. 'Well whoever they are they will regret the day they came to my bloody shores' said Yaric puffing out his chest. 'Peasant, which village did they burn?'.'...ssssSilage me lord', they were sailin east'. So the hamlet of smere will be next'  Yaric deducted. 'Guards ready my horse and call the men we ride at dawn.....come to my bloody coast will they...' he demanded as he strode from the hall. 'Oh dear' whispered Magnasson again, he looked at the guard  'oh dear oh bloody dear'.

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