509: Can Nothing Go Right?

Some quoting fun:

-Greg, can I roll a new passion? Love Life.

-Do you know Chirgury?
-Yes, but...I'm in need of it.

-(Greg, looking at the amount of dice thrown) "Did you crit?"
-"No."

-41 points!
-41?....I'm okay.

-Just put me on the fucking Pillar already.

Sir Padern here

Why does God hate me so? I maintain that damnably expensive church of his and its equally worthless caretaker. Surely that should mitigate...other events at my hands.

He surely frowns on Sir Brandegoris, a man any lord would be proud to have as vassal, and one I'm certainly proud to call companion. How else to explain his wife, the charming Lady Priscilla, dying in childbirth, and the continual misfortune and raiding of little Tilton-on-the-hill? It's not even a full-sized manor; why do the Saxons keep attacking it? And now he thinks a church will protect Tilton. Has he not ridden with me? By the bosom of St Barbara, I do not understand it.

And while I age and fall into decrepitude so that I can barely cut my meat at table, let alone the meat from Saxon bones, He honors Sir Gwair with a battlefield death...Gwair, a man who made me look holy in comparison. Tsk. Sir Gwair, always the life of the party. I miss him, I admit it.

It's no wonder then that not only could we Candlebees barely repulse a Saxon party raiding Leicester lands, but I took another grievous wound in the fighting, as did Brandegoris. Three months of sitting on my ass before going back into the field and trying to accomplish something before dear Count Idar's return from fighting for the King....Brandegoris announced that through the tutelage of Kevan he was now ready to take on the Black Annis, and since that cursed wretch is responsible for a hefty reduction in Idar's comptal income, off we rode, our scars still pink and new. (Hell, last year's scars are still pink and new.)

Well, I forgot how awful that hag's screams are. I sat on my horse, petrified, as Sirs Bledri and Tobias were rent asunder. My only consolation? That Candlebee stalwart Brandegoris was in the same kettle, and when he mustered his Valor he smacked Black Annis with his hambone-mace, but his arm trembled so he could not hit very hard (as he usually does). He, Eddy, and I finally rode away like little girls to the screams of the man we'd left behind. People say, "Oh, woo, you went up against Black Annis a second time? Well done!" but I can only think, What a complete waste of space I am; I can do nothing to benefit my lord dear Count Idar.

Can't I just die already?

Sir Edward here

Despite my best warnings, young Sir Bledri was seduced by the considerable charm of the Candlebees. And look what it got him! A face-full of hag and an early death.

Those Candlebees are a rough lot, friends. Don't let the stories convince you otherwise.

Brandegoris here

I begin to think that it is not just Tilton-on-the hill that is cursed or that I, myself am cursed, but that all of Britian is cursed.

I still am not right with God, even though I brought the late Sir Gwair's son to live with me as pennance. I find myself looking upon the boy's mother too often and for too long. Then I think of Priscilla, and then I renew my vow to never marry or to be with another women in any way, and it gives me a measure of comfort. Anyway the woman is having a tryst with my bailiff Sam, as if they thought it wasn't noticeable. Sam's wife Agnes is not pleased I hear. I will probably have to step in and do something about it soon. Maybe marry her off to someone from the village so she could leave my manor house. Then I would not find myself tempted by whatever evils there are that are making me think of the inappropriate.

I am still not right with God. I tried going to church in Leicester once last year after a visiting Roman Bishop convinced me that my denouncement of God could compromise Priscilla's place in heaven. I only made it halfway up the front steps and then just could go no farther. My anger came back and I turned away. Father Merle assures me that my feelings towards God are my own, and while I will probably be tortured in the bottomless pit of hell, that Priscilla was God-fearing and devoted so she will be fine. Her life will be less painful now than it was on earth he says. I like to believe that.

We fought at a slate mine in the nort hills near Tilton, and the battle was a draw. The area around Tilton was raided but we sent the Saxons back. Padern was nearly slain as was I but after months of recovery we were whole once again.

We felt like the year was not going well again and I felt that Cavan my kern teacher had taught me the knife as well as I could learn it, so we went to rid the land of B lack Annis. It seemed reasonable at the time. Long story short? We were petrified, Bledri nearly slain and we all ran away in the end. I was so petrified that I could not think straight, so I forgot to use my iron knife (wasp-sting), and I used my mace instead. I lost my armor to the Hags rotten stomach vile and in short we went back to Leicester with our tails between our legs.

Next year will be better. It has to be. I hope Edar returns from Nanteleod with good news.