Brandegoris speaks of 504
We were looking forward to a nice quiet year so we candlebees went to Tilton, my manor, to check out the shape it was in. I met a very outspoken and semi-clever peasant named Samuel who told me that he had led the other commoners in guarding my orchard when the villanous sir Uffo ordered them to burn it down. I promptly made Samuel my Bailiff and Padern gave me the funds to get new equipment so that I could get my villagers started on making my manor proper.
I had of course spent all I had 6L, on the pillar of resistance which sits in the market square at leicester and commemorates last years " Victory" over the Malahaut Saxons. It commemorates the young Sir Merin who was so unfortunate in that battle, as well as all other candlebees who were slain.
After Tilton we went to check Paderns new property of Medbourne. As we were looking through it we discovered a new occupant. A knight and Squire. The knight was wounded and we nursed him back to help. He healed very quickly in fact. And he was dressed magnificently, as was his squire. I thought them foreigners from some far off court but they spoke british perfectly, no...musically actually.
The knight who's name I can't remember( It seems to slip away actually every time I think Ive got it) asked us to aid him in his quest to kill an evil knight. A fiendish villian in fact. We swore to it and soon were in the savage forest where Gwair met his dead wife and dead children. She of course was a spawn of satan as were the kids, so padern killed 'em. We also found Brastias and his men and brought them out of the forest as well, and we did fight the fiendish knight who had captured a most noble lady. We whipped him and his men and I dealt him a blow that would have brought down a Elephant. But he somehow recovered and even got the shape of his face back. He put a curse on me and now ( as if we doubted it before) we KNEW we were dealing with faeries. Since we did win however he gave us each one gift of his pleasing if it was within his power to grant. Padern figured him to be magical since his skull had uncracked and seemed just fine. Avitus our knew roman knight companion, demanded only the safe return of the captured lady which was granted. Padern is a strong and bold warrior, but as he is my companion I can say that he is very concerned over his fading looks and asked the whoreson devil for a makeover. I must say that when he awoke the next morning ahe looked 10 years younger. Even some of his scars were gone. I wished for the curse to be lifted and it was. I cant recall what Gwair wished for but Im sure it was to do with breasts or something. We got back to Leicester with a magical Horn which will call fey knights to our need, and we gave it to our count. Then we all made a sacred vow to Never enter that damned forest again!
Crusty ol' Padern here
When he explained it to me in the hall, I thought he was nuts, but now that it's built I must say that Sir Brandegoris's idea was top-notch. We Candlebees have been tossing denarii to the pages at Count Idar's court so that they keep the Pillar of Resistance immaculate. No dust or hand smudges for our monument to ourselves!
Lordly Count Idar, King Candlebee and Light of Lindsey, gave the word and now we, his faithful servants, are setting his plans for expansion into motion. Sir Gwair is taking an active hand in his son's estate of Lilbourn, Sir Brandegoris is fortifying Tilton-on-the-hill, and I am trying to get the peasants to begin working the fields of Medbourn. As to the matter of raising the tower walls, I'm afraid I will need professional assistance with that as I have no eye or mind to siegework...I'm looking around for suitable employees. Including a steward. Lindsay may be gone, damn those Saxons, but we can make it anew around the city of Leicester.
As to my "makeover," I do admit I'm looking (and feeling) a bit like Sir Rhun here.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
503: Exactly What Happened?
Brandegoris here...
Its been a very eventful three years. So eventful in fact that I haven't had any time to have the scribe Gudovan put my words to paper. Where to begin? Lets see....
503... A very interesting year indeed. The most memorable thing indeed was when the knights of Lindsey joined King Nanteleod in battling Malahaut and its saxons. We had a great battle against those northern foes and were going to pursue them to their capitol, but alas the "KING" of Sorestan threatened to pillage our lands and we had to return. Shortly after we heard that Malahaut and Sorestan had joined together so we met them in the flatlands north of Newark. They outnumbered our host 2 to 1. We fought like demons and they called it a draw, going back to their homes to lick their wounds. They won't be back I'm sure, for who would want to fight men like us twice?!
Of course earlier in the year I had insulted Sir Uffo son of Duke Ulfius while at a council in Leicester. I couldnt help it. We have a past, me and him. Of course while I was fighting Malahaut in the north the ruffian attacked my manor and scared my wife half to death. It's been two very harrowing years in a row for her. I'm begining to question whether Tilton is cursed or not.
Its been a very eventful three years. So eventful in fact that I haven't had any time to have the scribe Gudovan put my words to paper. Where to begin? Lets see....
503... A very interesting year indeed. The most memorable thing indeed was when the knights of Lindsey joined King Nanteleod in battling Malahaut and its saxons. We had a great battle against those northern foes and were going to pursue them to their capitol, but alas the "KING" of Sorestan threatened to pillage our lands and we had to return. Shortly after we heard that Malahaut and Sorestan had joined together so we met them in the flatlands north of Newark. They outnumbered our host 2 to 1. We fought like demons and they called it a draw, going back to their homes to lick their wounds. They won't be back I'm sure, for who would want to fight men like us twice?!
Of course earlier in the year I had insulted Sir Uffo son of Duke Ulfius while at a council in Leicester. I couldnt help it. We have a past, me and him. Of course while I was fighting Malahaut in the north the ruffian attacked my manor and scared my wife half to death. It's been two very harrowing years in a row for her. I'm begining to question whether Tilton is cursed or not.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
502: Lady Priscilla Abducted!
[updated 5-15]
Hey, let's have some quotes! It's been awhile.
—I'm the gamemaster, not the lord of morality.
—Who rolls 18 on 8d6?! (Hands rise)
—Ooh, Candlebees in da house!
—I've got three wounds.
—You're in good hands. I fail...I fail...ooh, I got that one. One point.
—If Uther had your luck he'd still be alive. I'm not bitter, I'm just saying.
—It's Anarchy; call yourself whatever you want.
—Do we need a stretcher for Padern?
—If you didn't make your First Aid you'd need a bucket.
—In no other game have I ever encountered the menopause rule.
Unfortunately, we also got word the same day that King Nanteliod over there in Wales somewhere wanted to meet with Count Idar in Orofoise. Idar understandingly let us run off with Brandegoris while he and Sir George and young master Dryfel, Danes in tow, went to Orofoise.
We killed a fiend masquerading as a knight, the child of a demon and a lady. You know, just like Merlin. We also taught the peasants slaving away for this fiend a lesson, one I'm sure they won't soon forget. We brought Lady Priscilla back to Leicester safe and sound; I don't think she and Brandegoris will be going back to their manor-house anytime soon.
When Idar got back he gave us the scoop: that Nanteliod has taken a wide swath of lands outside Wales. Only Lambor and Bedegraine remain between Lindsey and the lands under Nanteliod's sway. He says he aims to be High King, and wanted Idar's fealty. Further, he asked for Idar's help in marching on Lambor and Bedegraine...since Lambor is Idar's liege-lord, we marched in the contingent sent to Bedegraine. It wasn't much of a fight. And Idar swore the oath to King Nanteliod. We're hoping the king confirms Idar's title soon.
Oh, and Sir Gwair threw a rollicking party in memory of his dear departed wife, the devilish Lady Lilebourne, who died in childbirth.
Good riddance!
Brandegoris the grateful here
I saved my wife from a demon knight this year and sacked his town of Medbourne, with the help of my valiant companions. It seems that my poor manor Tilton-on-the-hill is not agood fit for me and my Lady. Our daughter who is but an infant was carried of as well. This fiend and his vicious servants were a handful but we did manage to slay them and save my wife as well as four other noble women which Gwair promptly bedded. AHH Gwair.
Young Merin did as well as he could but was very unlucky. Still the lad shows great promise. He will likely be a great knight one day. I will spend the winter in Leicester with my lady who is recovering from the shock of being abducted and mistreated. At least the fiend didn't soil her with his loins. YUCK!
Next year I will spend coin on minstrels to sing my lady's praises across the length and breadth of Britian. I Do Love her so and thank God that she was unharmed! If possible I believe the experience brought us even closer together.
Hey, let's have some quotes! It's been awhile.
—I'm the gamemaster, not the lord of morality.
—Who rolls 18 on 8d6?! (Hands rise)
—Ooh, Candlebees in da house!
—I've got three wounds.
—You're in good hands. I fail...I fail...ooh, I got that one. One point.
—If Uther had your luck he'd still be alive. I'm not bitter, I'm just saying.
—It's Anarchy; call yourself whatever you want.
—Do we need a stretcher for Padern?
—If you didn't make your First Aid you'd need a bucket.
—In no other game have I ever encountered the menopause rule.
Padern here
When we got back last year with the Danish brothers and young master Dryfel, we caused quite a stir, and Count Idar went ahead and offered all the other Candlebees manors if they so chose. At first we thought, Wow, way to reward your pals, Idar! But then we got word in Leicester that the manor Sir Brandegoris chose, Tiltern-on-the-hill, had been pillage and his wife carried off!Unfortunately, we also got word the same day that King Nanteliod over there in Wales somewhere wanted to meet with Count Idar in Orofoise. Idar understandingly let us run off with Brandegoris while he and Sir George and young master Dryfel, Danes in tow, went to Orofoise.
We killed a fiend masquerading as a knight, the child of a demon and a lady. You know, just like Merlin. We also taught the peasants slaving away for this fiend a lesson, one I'm sure they won't soon forget. We brought Lady Priscilla back to Leicester safe and sound; I don't think she and Brandegoris will be going back to their manor-house anytime soon.
When Idar got back he gave us the scoop: that Nanteliod has taken a wide swath of lands outside Wales. Only Lambor and Bedegraine remain between Lindsey and the lands under Nanteliod's sway. He says he aims to be High King, and wanted Idar's fealty. Further, he asked for Idar's help in marching on Lambor and Bedegraine...since Lambor is Idar's liege-lord, we marched in the contingent sent to Bedegraine. It wasn't much of a fight. And Idar swore the oath to King Nanteliod. We're hoping the king confirms Idar's title soon.
Oh, and Sir Gwair threw a rollicking party in memory of his dear departed wife, the devilish Lady Lilebourne, who died in childbirth.
Good riddance!
Brandegoris the grateful here
I saved my wife from a demon knight this year and sacked his town of Medbourne, with the help of my valiant companions. It seems that my poor manor Tilton-on-the-hill is not agood fit for me and my Lady. Our daughter who is but an infant was carried of as well. This fiend and his vicious servants were a handful but we did manage to slay them and save my wife as well as four other noble women which Gwair promptly bedded. AHH Gwair.
Young Merin did as well as he could but was very unlucky. Still the lad shows great promise. He will likely be a great knight one day. I will spend the winter in Leicester with my lady who is recovering from the shock of being abducted and mistreated. At least the fiend didn't soil her with his loins. YUCK!
Next year I will spend coin on minstrels to sing my lady's praises across the length and breadth of Britian. I Do Love her so and thank God that she was unharmed! If possible I believe the experience brought us even closer together.
501: Battle of the Three Kings
Brandegoris here
After leaving queen Morgan with her new sheepherder-King we were spoiling for a fight. We thought we might intice some northerners with any real balls to come with us and raid saxon lands to the south. Imagine our surprise and delight when we discovered that a huge northern army led by the three kings Lot, Uriens, And Haraut the centurion king , were already assembling. We asked permision to join and it was granted at once.
Shortly afterwards we took the field and got into position to attack. We were all readying ourselves for what would be a morning battle, and Sir Merin came to us saying he had overheard that the three kings were arguing and could not agree on which should lead the army. Padern who is famous for his intolerance for such tripe marched direcly to the tent of the three kings. I have said it before and will say it again... Brass balls... thats what he has. I often ponder why he is so reckless and the only thought that comes to mind is that his advanced age and declining health have made him give no shit about danger. I believe he is weary of life and seeks nothing more than to die in glorious combat. I thank God that I had that privledge of being knighted by the man. Just what we ned in these dark times.
In short order Padern had somehow been allowed to CHOOSE the commander! Very progressive of them. He of course chose Lot and offended Uriens and The Centurion king horribly. Im sure they are plotting the many ways that they will torture Padern once they have him captured.
The battle was a desperate one and unfortunately it was indecisive. Even though we knights of Linsey acquitted ourselves well, Lot"s pride blinded him and he floundered in his command of the vast force. I believe that after he was unhorsed he was captured or slain. Uriens decided it would be prudent to go back to Gorre and slop his pigs, and of course to no ones surprise the king of Malahaut was trecherous and never even joined in the fight. I vow to personally slay the old bastard someday.
After we escaped the carnage we hid in the Maris Marshes with a few other survivors. It was just then that Gods hand guided me and I alone spotted the smoke from a nearby hovel. To our utter surprise the Lord had led us to our very own young Ruler who we thiought was dead! It seems that our young heir DERFEL was alive, saved by two Danish brothers. I could tell right away that these men had an unwholseome hold over our DANISH SPEAKING! Duke of ten years old. After spending a dreary four months convincing our liege to leave the marshes( I swore fealty to him immediately) We went to leicester and introduced the boy!
It was a blessed year in the end it seemed! Im sure that everything will go well for us from here on out!
Grizzled old Padern here
After Lady Morgan's wedding to King Uriens, we started making plans to return home. Surely we could kill a few Saxons on the way? Especially now with the swellign ranks of Candlebees! That's right. Sirs Martin, Brandegoris, and Merin have been so impressed with the Candlebee camraderie shared by Gwair and myself that they asked us if they, too, could become Candlebees. Of course! The more the merrier. So now we are six: Count Idar, Sir Gwair, Sir Brandegoris, Sir Martin of Thetford, young Sir Merin, and myself. May we kill many Saxons in retaliation for our burned hives!
We talked big in Uriens' court about Count Idar and the marvellous hospitality that would surely be extended to any knight that accompanied us south to fight the horde. As it turned out, Uriens and another northern king, Lot, were planning on taking a small army south with Malahaut to do just that, so we joined up with them for the march south. Although why one would marry a young comely woman only to head off to battle shortly after I can't fathom...oh wait. He married creepy Lady Morgan; never mind.
In Roestoc we got into position facing a slightly larger Saxon army. We Lindseymen were very excited to be fighting with an army at our backs! Because of course, we pushed and shoved our way to the front of the lines. But young Sir Merin overheard the three kings arguing about who would take precedence over the entire army...! Don't you think they would have thought of that before they left home? I don't know what bee got in my bonnet but I marched up to the kings-tent and scolded them for their indecision to their faces. So King Lot, apparently the most hot-headed of the three, leaped up and demanded of me my solution. Did I mention that my hair is almost entirely grey now?
But I hadn't gone into the tent with a solution! Thinking fast—more like, reacting quickly—I said Malahaut should have the last position because he stood by and did nothing to aid his neighbor to the south, Lindsey, from the Saxon onslaught. That was easy. But deciding between Uriens and Lot? I squeezed my fist around the gold ring Lady Morgan gave me (indeed, all the Lindseymen) as thanks for service rendered. Should I choose Uriens? But I chose Lot, for the simple reason that they had both married daughters of the Pendragon, and he the eldest. They thanked me for my decisiveness and I left the tent.
But not before I saw the looks Uriens and Malahaut shot my way. That won't be good.
So why did we then spend the next four months sitting in a hut in the middle of the Maris? Lot couldn't make a battle roll to save his life (literally); Uriens, seeing which way the wind was blowing, concerned himself with getting out of the ensuing mess; and Malahaut, true to form, kept his men in reserve on a hillock and never engaged.
So we ran. At least we ran through the Saxon army instead of turning tail, but still. In the confusion we lost Sir Gwair, but we figured he and squire Arnie, ready to be knighted any day now, could get through the lines and rejoin us.
So here we were, lost in the Maris despite my best efforts, when we spied a plume of smoke. (And Gwair did find us again, although we are still waiting for Arnie.) Following the smoke we spied a wretched hut. On closer investigation, inside we spied two wretched-looking men and a small boy. Something about them jogged my memory, despite their rags and unkempt hair...whoa! The Danish brothers, Kolgrim and Holgar! And they boy they presented as young master Dryfel, the son of Duke Corneus!
The tale came out as the days passed: Holgar, who had been imprisoned with Kolgrim in Lincoln on suspicion of collaboration, heard the fighting as the Saxons stormed the city, and when the doors burst open the brothers rose up and slew the Saxons with their bare hands, took their arms and armor, and headed for the walls. There, they saw the Duke's wife, dead, and her little son standing next to her body. Hardly pausing, they scooped him up and got out of Lincoln as the Saxons pillaged and burned it with glee.
In turn, we told the brothers that Lindsey had been effectively reduced to the city of Leicester, where Sir Idar was count, that you could count the number of surviving Lindsey knights on two hands, and that we had been unable to oust the Saxon King of Sorestan (as they now call Lindsey).
With strange reticence, we finally got the brothers to agree to accompany us to Leicester, though only at the concession of a needlessly long wait before doing so, so it wasn't until the beginning of winter when we finally rolled into Idar's hall.
After leaving queen Morgan with her new sheepherder-King we were spoiling for a fight. We thought we might intice some northerners with any real balls to come with us and raid saxon lands to the south. Imagine our surprise and delight when we discovered that a huge northern army led by the three kings Lot, Uriens, And Haraut the centurion king , were already assembling. We asked permision to join and it was granted at once.
Shortly afterwards we took the field and got into position to attack. We were all readying ourselves for what would be a morning battle, and Sir Merin came to us saying he had overheard that the three kings were arguing and could not agree on which should lead the army. Padern who is famous for his intolerance for such tripe marched direcly to the tent of the three kings. I have said it before and will say it again... Brass balls... thats what he has. I often ponder why he is so reckless and the only thought that comes to mind is that his advanced age and declining health have made him give no shit about danger. I believe he is weary of life and seeks nothing more than to die in glorious combat. I thank God that I had that privledge of being knighted by the man. Just what we ned in these dark times.
In short order Padern had somehow been allowed to CHOOSE the commander! Very progressive of them. He of course chose Lot and offended Uriens and The Centurion king horribly. Im sure they are plotting the many ways that they will torture Padern once they have him captured.
The battle was a desperate one and unfortunately it was indecisive. Even though we knights of Linsey acquitted ourselves well, Lot"s pride blinded him and he floundered in his command of the vast force. I believe that after he was unhorsed he was captured or slain. Uriens decided it would be prudent to go back to Gorre and slop his pigs, and of course to no ones surprise the king of Malahaut was trecherous and never even joined in the fight. I vow to personally slay the old bastard someday.
After we escaped the carnage we hid in the Maris Marshes with a few other survivors. It was just then that Gods hand guided me and I alone spotted the smoke from a nearby hovel. To our utter surprise the Lord had led us to our very own young Ruler who we thiought was dead! It seems that our young heir DERFEL was alive, saved by two Danish brothers. I could tell right away that these men had an unwholseome hold over our DANISH SPEAKING! Duke of ten years old. After spending a dreary four months convincing our liege to leave the marshes( I swore fealty to him immediately) We went to leicester and introduced the boy!
It was a blessed year in the end it seemed! Im sure that everything will go well for us from here on out!
Grizzled old Padern here
After Lady Morgan's wedding to King Uriens, we started making plans to return home. Surely we could kill a few Saxons on the way? Especially now with the swellign ranks of Candlebees! That's right. Sirs Martin, Brandegoris, and Merin have been so impressed with the Candlebee camraderie shared by Gwair and myself that they asked us if they, too, could become Candlebees. Of course! The more the merrier. So now we are six: Count Idar, Sir Gwair, Sir Brandegoris, Sir Martin of Thetford, young Sir Merin, and myself. May we kill many Saxons in retaliation for our burned hives!
We talked big in Uriens' court about Count Idar and the marvellous hospitality that would surely be extended to any knight that accompanied us south to fight the horde. As it turned out, Uriens and another northern king, Lot, were planning on taking a small army south with Malahaut to do just that, so we joined up with them for the march south. Although why one would marry a young comely woman only to head off to battle shortly after I can't fathom...oh wait. He married creepy Lady Morgan; never mind.
In Roestoc we got into position facing a slightly larger Saxon army. We Lindseymen were very excited to be fighting with an army at our backs! Because of course, we pushed and shoved our way to the front of the lines. But young Sir Merin overheard the three kings arguing about who would take precedence over the entire army...! Don't you think they would have thought of that before they left home? I don't know what bee got in my bonnet but I marched up to the kings-tent and scolded them for their indecision to their faces. So King Lot, apparently the most hot-headed of the three, leaped up and demanded of me my solution. Did I mention that my hair is almost entirely grey now?
But I hadn't gone into the tent with a solution! Thinking fast—more like, reacting quickly—I said Malahaut should have the last position because he stood by and did nothing to aid his neighbor to the south, Lindsey, from the Saxon onslaught. That was easy. But deciding between Uriens and Lot? I squeezed my fist around the gold ring Lady Morgan gave me (indeed, all the Lindseymen) as thanks for service rendered. Should I choose Uriens? But I chose Lot, for the simple reason that they had both married daughters of the Pendragon, and he the eldest. They thanked me for my decisiveness and I left the tent.
But not before I saw the looks Uriens and Malahaut shot my way. That won't be good.
So why did we then spend the next four months sitting in a hut in the middle of the Maris? Lot couldn't make a battle roll to save his life (literally); Uriens, seeing which way the wind was blowing, concerned himself with getting out of the ensuing mess; and Malahaut, true to form, kept his men in reserve on a hillock and never engaged.
So we ran. At least we ran through the Saxon army instead of turning tail, but still. In the confusion we lost Sir Gwair, but we figured he and squire Arnie, ready to be knighted any day now, could get through the lines and rejoin us.
So here we were, lost in the Maris despite my best efforts, when we spied a plume of smoke. (And Gwair did find us again, although we are still waiting for Arnie.) Following the smoke we spied a wretched hut. On closer investigation, inside we spied two wretched-looking men and a small boy. Something about them jogged my memory, despite their rags and unkempt hair...whoa! The Danish brothers, Kolgrim and Holgar! And they boy they presented as young master Dryfel, the son of Duke Corneus!
The tale came out as the days passed: Holgar, who had been imprisoned with Kolgrim in Lincoln on suspicion of collaboration, heard the fighting as the Saxons stormed the city, and when the doors burst open the brothers rose up and slew the Saxons with their bare hands, took their arms and armor, and headed for the walls. There, they saw the Duke's wife, dead, and her little son standing next to her body. Hardly pausing, they scooped him up and got out of Lincoln as the Saxons pillaged and burned it with glee.
In turn, we told the brothers that Lindsey had been effectively reduced to the city of Leicester, where Sir Idar was count, that you could count the number of surviving Lindsey knights on two hands, and that we had been unable to oust the Saxon King of Sorestan (as they now call Lindsey).
With strange reticence, we finally got the brothers to agree to accompany us to Leicester, though only at the concession of a needlessly long wait before doing so, so it wasn't until the beginning of winter when we finally rolled into Idar's hall.
501: Escort Duty with Dessert
Sir Padern here
We were having one of those blustery Lindsey spring days; no one felt like going out, so we were all in the hall entertaining ourselves while Idar tried to conduct whatever business it is he does with his multitudinous peasants. Lady Priscilla was sitting on Brandigoris's lap and singing prettily, Martin and I were instructing young Merin on the finer points of knucklebones, and the rain beat against Leicester's walls.
Fitting I suppose that on a day of such wild weather Lady Igraine and her small retinue showed up at court. Gwair and I made ourselves scarce, but Martin gave us the heads-up before Idar called us over: she wanted an escort for her and her daughter, as her daughter Morgan was to marry King Uriens.
But Idar, we said, Igraine hates us. She promised to see Gwair and I dead.
But I can't send Sir George and those rotters, the Lambor knights, Idar said.
Dead, Idar. She pointed at us and said dead.
Idar asked us if we wanted to die in bed like women so we said fine and told our squires to get ready for a journey. So Gwair and I, Brandegoris, Martin, and young Sir Merin joined the Nun-Queen's party of Salisbury knights riding north to Gorre.
Yes, we got lost in the mountains. But we did find our way to Gorre, and I must say, those northerners can't make a decent pudding to save their lives, but they do turn out a fine cake.
And, as with any involvement with Lady Igraine and her strange, twisted family, there were...anomolies. As I was thoroughly lost in the Pennines, I can only report what I was told by my fellow Lindseymen, who say that they were separated from the royal party and Salisbury knights, but Sir Brandygoris unerringly lead them right to the Queen and her daughter—he was unclear on the why and how of this—only to find them standing unharmed in a field of dead Saxons. "They made a mistake," was all creepy young Lady Morgan would say.
It was a lovely wedding, as those things go. And at the feast Lady Morgan kept Sir Brandagoris well-supplied with wine, real wine. Well!
BRANDEGORIS REPORTING,
One minute I was sitting at my good mate Count Idar's Court in Leicester on a fine spring day, and my most adorable lady wife was feeding me pickled eggs by the barrel, when suddenly we had word that The most noble christian Queeen Ygraine of Amesbury was passing through our fine city and needed a proper escort to the far northern lands of Gorre. May as well be Rome Padern had grumbled. At least in Rome there are PROPER whores, Gwair had agreed.
It seemed that Ygraine's youngest daughter Morgan was to be wed to King Uriens OF of Gorre. It also happened that long ago Ygraine had had a run in with Sir Gwair and Sir Padern and was none to fond of them. In fact HATE was the word used most often to describe her most base feelings about them. HMMMM... I thought...... How will this turn out? Something about helping Merlin steal her child...... Doubtful I thought... Unless Padern couldve sold the child as a slave maybe? Or If she had said that Gwair had stole her handmaiden... Something truly believable, you know? But really, what would the two of them care for a shitting, ugly little infant? I think there was some large misunderstanding.
Anyway..... We agreed that we would escort Morgan to that backward-ass country and her Hillbilly King. If you are a king of stinking pig farmers are you really a KING? I dont know.... They were certainly not OVERLY generous in their rewards. I Blame it on their pagan heritage. Hell even Gwair is more generous than that dingy little King. He'll always at least share his fishermans wife or whatever.
So we went through Carohaise and several other smaller cities and castles, and I believe Gwair bedded a lady at every one. Dispicable behavior, but I guess being a Pagen has it's advantages. There was a very nice young serving wench that he bedded at Carohaise. I think her name was Milly, but after several pints Gwair referd to her as Cake, and I believe he still cant remember her name and still simply refers to her as an after dinner sweet. Apparently she had a friend that he called pudding.... Im not sure. I believe I will try to get gwair to pursue a real interst with Milly( aka cake) since his own very loyal and lovely wife Lilly died in childbirth this very year, Cake did have an uncommonly quick wit and vast tracks of fertile soil to plow. Well, after years of the figting and back sassing from his Too-independant Lady-wife lilly I believe he is BLOWING off a little Steam. But for a commoner Milly-Cake is well spoken and clever. We will see....
Of course she is called Cake due to the fact that Padern was So violently dissapointed with King Leodegrances fair (PUDDING AGAIN!) that his old bones yearned for nothing more than one slice of cake served at the HIGH table (8000+ glory) Not unreasonable. They were very stingy however with there baked goods. In fact Gwair served Milly and then milly served Padern Cake.... Coincidence..... NO! Thus... Millys nickname.
Also, Did I mention that Paderns old ass got laid? Thanks to Gwair who It seemed to me was returning some old favor owed? Hmmmm... When I asked them to elaborate on the subject i simply got a wink and a polite blow off.Apparenty Its between them and has somethig to do with Convalescing? It appears that Padern actually hooked up lilly and Gwair on purpose and later Gwair got a wife. Padern it seems has no interest in gaining another wife at his age. Just a fine young lass to lie to him about his distinguished looks and sexual prowess. We all need that from time to time. I for instance am fortunate that Priscilla has such a kind heart and good sense of humor as it seems that no matter how large a man is or how big his extremities..... anyway,....
enough tripe. We after much personal anguish and torment, did get Morgan the Very strange to her Groom!
Since she seemed knowledgable about certain Pagan subjects, I asked her very delicately how best to defeat the Black Annis that has long plauged our good Count's land. She said the only way was an Iron Knife in the gizzards, so I am now practicing daily with my dagger in hopes that I can one day avenge my brother-in-law Rhun's death at the demon's hands. He will be avenged. That I vow.
In the end I was just glad to get back to the loving arms of my sweet sweet lady.
I am cuirrently spending a fortune on badley groomed and mannered Irish Kerns who it seems are the only viable source that one can attain to teach Knife fighting with any real degree of skill. Oh well, life is shit.
Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sir Merin.
As a young boy in Lincoln, I watched as my father served alongside great men like Sir Padern and Sir Edar. Throughout my time as a squire I listened to reports of the Candlebees and the Iron Men of Lindsey. Now that I have been knighted, I have had the honor of swearing allegiance to Count Edar and serving alongside these legendary men. To say I am overwhelmed is an understatement.
When Count Edar instructed us to escort the queen I thought it was a proud moment. Our inspection met with her satisfaction. She definitely took notice of the Lindsey contingent of her escort. I thought this would present us with the chance to impress the queen, but alas, we were sent ahead to act as scouts.
Travelling with the men I have heard tales of for so long is an interesting experience. These knights live life in the manner most only hear about in stories! Gwair and Padern found eager women in the courts of our hosts who doted on them, eager to listen to their stories. Sir Martin, Brandegoris and I were much more subdued by comparison, but there is no way to compete with the accomplishments of Sir Padern and Sir Gwair. Well, Brandegoris' accomplishments with the Ham-bone attracted many people for the story, but the man was only recently married, and spent much of our trip thinking of his wife. I can only hope that when I marry, I will find someone who I will treasure so dearly.
I look forward to fighting alongside these men and driving the Saxons from our home once and for all!
We were having one of those blustery Lindsey spring days; no one felt like going out, so we were all in the hall entertaining ourselves while Idar tried to conduct whatever business it is he does with his multitudinous peasants. Lady Priscilla was sitting on Brandigoris's lap and singing prettily, Martin and I were instructing young Merin on the finer points of knucklebones, and the rain beat against Leicester's walls.
Fitting I suppose that on a day of such wild weather Lady Igraine and her small retinue showed up at court. Gwair and I made ourselves scarce, but Martin gave us the heads-up before Idar called us over: she wanted an escort for her and her daughter, as her daughter Morgan was to marry King Uriens.
But Idar, we said, Igraine hates us. She promised to see Gwair and I dead.
But I can't send Sir George and those rotters, the Lambor knights, Idar said.
Dead, Idar. She pointed at us and said dead.
Idar asked us if we wanted to die in bed like women so we said fine and told our squires to get ready for a journey. So Gwair and I, Brandegoris, Martin, and young Sir Merin joined the Nun-Queen's party of Salisbury knights riding north to Gorre.
Yes, we got lost in the mountains. But we did find our way to Gorre, and I must say, those northerners can't make a decent pudding to save their lives, but they do turn out a fine cake.
And, as with any involvement with Lady Igraine and her strange, twisted family, there were...anomolies. As I was thoroughly lost in the Pennines, I can only report what I was told by my fellow Lindseymen, who say that they were separated from the royal party and Salisbury knights, but Sir Brandygoris unerringly lead them right to the Queen and her daughter—he was unclear on the why and how of this—only to find them standing unharmed in a field of dead Saxons. "They made a mistake," was all creepy young Lady Morgan would say.
It was a lovely wedding, as those things go. And at the feast Lady Morgan kept Sir Brandagoris well-supplied with wine, real wine. Well!
BRANDEGORIS REPORTING,
One minute I was sitting at my good mate Count Idar's Court in Leicester on a fine spring day, and my most adorable lady wife was feeding me pickled eggs by the barrel, when suddenly we had word that The most noble christian Queeen Ygraine of Amesbury was passing through our fine city and needed a proper escort to the far northern lands of Gorre. May as well be Rome Padern had grumbled. At least in Rome there are PROPER whores, Gwair had agreed.
It seemed that Ygraine's youngest daughter Morgan was to be wed to King Uriens OF of Gorre. It also happened that long ago Ygraine had had a run in with Sir Gwair and Sir Padern and was none to fond of them. In fact HATE was the word used most often to describe her most base feelings about them. HMMMM... I thought...... How will this turn out? Something about helping Merlin steal her child...... Doubtful I thought... Unless Padern couldve sold the child as a slave maybe? Or If she had said that Gwair had stole her handmaiden... Something truly believable, you know? But really, what would the two of them care for a shitting, ugly little infant? I think there was some large misunderstanding.
Anyway..... We agreed that we would escort Morgan to that backward-ass country and her Hillbilly King. If you are a king of stinking pig farmers are you really a KING? I dont know.... They were certainly not OVERLY generous in their rewards. I Blame it on their pagan heritage. Hell even Gwair is more generous than that dingy little King. He'll always at least share his fishermans wife or whatever.
So we went through Carohaise and several other smaller cities and castles, and I believe Gwair bedded a lady at every one. Dispicable behavior, but I guess being a Pagen has it's advantages. There was a very nice young serving wench that he bedded at Carohaise. I think her name was Milly, but after several pints Gwair referd to her as Cake, and I believe he still cant remember her name and still simply refers to her as an after dinner sweet. Apparently she had a friend that he called pudding.... Im not sure. I believe I will try to get gwair to pursue a real interst with Milly( aka cake) since his own very loyal and lovely wife Lilly died in childbirth this very year, Cake did have an uncommonly quick wit and vast tracks of fertile soil to plow. Well, after years of the figting and back sassing from his Too-independant Lady-wife lilly I believe he is BLOWING off a little Steam. But for a commoner Milly-Cake is well spoken and clever. We will see....
Of course she is called Cake due to the fact that Padern was So violently dissapointed with King Leodegrances fair (PUDDING AGAIN!) that his old bones yearned for nothing more than one slice of cake served at the HIGH table (8000+ glory) Not unreasonable. They were very stingy however with there baked goods. In fact Gwair served Milly and then milly served Padern Cake.... Coincidence..... NO! Thus... Millys nickname.
Also, Did I mention that Paderns old ass got laid? Thanks to Gwair who It seemed to me was returning some old favor owed? Hmmmm... When I asked them to elaborate on the subject i simply got a wink and a polite blow off.Apparenty Its between them and has somethig to do with Convalescing? It appears that Padern actually hooked up lilly and Gwair on purpose and later Gwair got a wife. Padern it seems has no interest in gaining another wife at his age. Just a fine young lass to lie to him about his distinguished looks and sexual prowess. We all need that from time to time. I for instance am fortunate that Priscilla has such a kind heart and good sense of humor as it seems that no matter how large a man is or how big his extremities..... anyway,....
enough tripe. We after much personal anguish and torment, did get Morgan the Very strange to her Groom!
Since she seemed knowledgable about certain Pagan subjects, I asked her very delicately how best to defeat the Black Annis that has long plauged our good Count's land. She said the only way was an Iron Knife in the gizzards, so I am now practicing daily with my dagger in hopes that I can one day avenge my brother-in-law Rhun's death at the demon's hands. He will be avenged. That I vow.
In the end I was just glad to get back to the loving arms of my sweet sweet lady.
I am cuirrently spending a fortune on badley groomed and mannered Irish Kerns who it seems are the only viable source that one can attain to teach Knife fighting with any real degree of skill. Oh well, life is shit.
Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sir Merin.
As a young boy in Lincoln, I watched as my father served alongside great men like Sir Padern and Sir Edar. Throughout my time as a squire I listened to reports of the Candlebees and the Iron Men of Lindsey. Now that I have been knighted, I have had the honor of swearing allegiance to Count Edar and serving alongside these legendary men. To say I am overwhelmed is an understatement.
When Count Edar instructed us to escort the queen I thought it was a proud moment. Our inspection met with her satisfaction. She definitely took notice of the Lindsey contingent of her escort. I thought this would present us with the chance to impress the queen, but alas, we were sent ahead to act as scouts.
Travelling with the men I have heard tales of for so long is an interesting experience. These knights live life in the manner most only hear about in stories! Gwair and Padern found eager women in the courts of our hosts who doted on them, eager to listen to their stories. Sir Martin, Brandegoris and I were much more subdued by comparison, but there is no way to compete with the accomplishments of Sir Padern and Sir Gwair. Well, Brandegoris' accomplishments with the Ham-bone attracted many people for the story, but the man was only recently married, and spent much of our trip thinking of his wife. I can only hope that when I marry, I will find someone who I will treasure so dearly.
I look forward to fighting alongside these men and driving the Saxons from our home once and for all!
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