Post by ziglerrobertson on May 7, 2009 14:21:49 GMT -5
(That's IT I'm done! If I ever modify this again Rune gets to hit me in the balls. EIGHT F*CKING pages.......furrr sh****t!)
Chapter 1: Mittelmarch
“Wherein it is told how Zigler came to the land of Mittelmarch with the assistance of Oof, the Hill Giant.”
Exiled from his home, the former Court Bard left the lands he knew since his childhood and headed north. Past the Lowlands where the Hobbits dwell, over the mountains, and crossing various fjords and rivers, he traveled for many weeks often coming across a nice farming family with need for another hand to work the fields and who offered a warm bed and food. Soon Zigler had traveled beyond where and sensible map's boundaries’ reached.
It was a gray skied day when Zigler stumbles into the swamp that’s braced on either side by two large hills. Braving the swamps dangers, he musters forth, dodging sand pits, large rats, and a strange hag with albino skin. As he travels deeper into the swamp, the fog becomes thicker and thicker until Zigler can only see by the light of an occasional flaming gas pocket. Suddenly, Zigler hears a thrashing off to his right, stopping his movements, Zigler listens.
"Where is Squishy?"
The footsteps squelch loudly, proclaiming that something heavy this way comes.
"Squishy be here! Oof know it!"
Not wanting to stop and find out who or what this 'Oof' is Zigler quietly move forward. The squelching gets closer.
"SQUISHY STAND STILL!"
Out of the fog steps a large Hill Giant. In one hand he holds a tree (torn up by its roots) in the other he holds an oversized axe-hammer. Zigler, having glimpsed this sight, wisely begins to doge and snake his way around the Hill Giant and back into the swamp.
"Squishy stand still so Oof can squish squishy!"
The Giant begins to pursue Zigler as he runs for his f***ing life. For he knows that he is no match for a well trained Dwarf, much less a lumbering, purpose driven Hill Giant.
"I'm not the Squishy you’re looking for!" Shouts Zigler towards Oof.
"It not matter, you still a Squishy that needin' to be squished," says Oof.
"Aww Crap!" Zigler continues to run deeper into the swamp and the fog, occasionally tripping on a root or the tail of a rat.
The two would-be combatants run aimlessly through the fog and the swamp. Encountering pitfalls, mud holes, and attacking tree limbs all the way.
Oof panting from the long run, "Squishy come here so you be squished!"
Zigler is in as bad, if not worse condition as he says to himself, “Too many damned parties, I should have listened to that guy back in Belle Terra, 'Work out!’ he said. Dammit!"
Pretty soon the fog is so dense that Zigler can no longer see his nose, but he keeps running.
"Squishy, here Squishy Squishy, Oof has big present for Squishy," Oof shouts as he too is enveloped in the all encompassing fog.
With a sudden terribleness the fog clears and Zigler can see feel a breeze through his hair. Standing and looking around at his new surroundings he spies an old, pitted, wooden sign that reads "MittelMarch." Zigler stands there, shell shocked until he feels a large presence looming behind him.
Before he can bolt he hears Oof's booming voice shout, “YOU IN MITTELMARCH NOW FOO!" Zigler cannot argue as the world suddenly turns first white, then black.
****
Blackness.
"It's like Hertz-renta photon carted away both sun and moon."
Darkness.
"Never before have I been in this place."
.....shhhsszzz..
"Whats that? Who's there?"
.....shhhhbluexxaaa...
What? Please, tell me where I am!"
"Mittlemarch foo, Oof told you."
I don't reply as I struggle to regain my wits.
With memories, come thought, and light!
I open my eyes and look around. Sitting up I hold my head with both hands as my brain tries to leak out my ears.
My eyes immediately spy a Hill Giant named Oof, whose most expressed wish, last I recalled, was to 'squish' me. However, said Hill Giant had become distracted, thus explaining my unsquished state. Standing up and craning my neck I see what distracted him.
"Is MINE!" Oof shouts as he tries to backhand me.
He mutters, "Is blue, is mine, is gooood" and he takes a drink from his cupped hands.
Looking around nervously I say, "Thats fine, Oof. it's yours, all yours. But if you don't mind I'm gonna go over there for awhile." I point towards the hill on my left and slowly inches my way over.
"Squishy no go!" shouts Oof, half rising from his haunches to add credit to his threat.
"No, no, no, Squishy will be back. Squishy just has to take care of something in the pub. Squishy will be right back."
"Squishy go, bring Oof back good beer."
"Yes, Squishy will bring back good beer."
Oof goes back to drinking the strange blue liquid.
Taking a few cautious steps away from Oof, I soon break into a full run as I near the top of a hill. I'm halfway down the other side before I realize the visage in front of me. Spread out at my feet is a moderately sized town that is quartered off in some areas, but with free flowing traffic between all areas. From my view point I see the fires of the blacksmiths and the cooking merchants. On the far side of the village I see a forest with trees to match even the height of a Hill Giant. But most important of all I notice the five men in night black armor running towards me as a bell tolls in the town. Other men form up on the walls as common citizenry flee into buildings, or stand and watch the goings on.
"I don't know who these people are," I say to myself. "But my only other option is on the other side of this hill."
...
...
...
"I hope they like music."
I raise my arms, palms upward to show that I am not holding any weapons as I await my saviors, or quite possibly, my slayers.
Chapter 2
In which we meet Zigler, Angelina, and Jonathon among others.
"....And to you I say 'By danny K. you'll never out fox the Fox'......"
Loud applause fills the Great Hall from the Court as I finish singing.
"A most gracious thank you to you my Ladies, and to you my Lords, it was a great pleasure to present that song for your entertainment in this my Lord Dugald's Court."
"Thank you my bard" says the Lord Dugald, "but now I grow weary and wish to sleep. Court dismissed!"
"COURT DISMISSED" the Crier repeated, and as his shout echoes through the Keeps walls my mouth cannot help but beg for water as the night’s performance has dried my throat. Dressed in my Court lively I walk through the halls of the Keep, headed towards the servant’s exit, while returning gestures and summons with smiles and a turn of phrase when the status of the individual required it. My flowing green silk garment and golden vest seem more and more out of place as I travel down the passages that no Noble or guest. Before exiting I pass by the kitchen in hopes of grabbing a leg of lamb left unattended after the Court feast. The blood shot eyes of the Lord's cook however sway me from performing this action.
The sky is full of stars as I exit the Keep proper onto the surrounding hillside. As I walk towards my smallish hut I keep my eyes looking up at the sky in hopes that I might glimpse the stars.
"Zigler" a soft voice whispers into my ear.
I promptly trip over my feet and land on my back. I stare up at my tormentor, "You should not be out here," I say.
"Our Lord Dugald did not wish my services tonight," Angelina simply replies.
Sometime later in a medieval, one room house Zigler is staring lovingly at the sleeping form of Mistress Angelina. She is a Concubine in the Lord Dugald’s service and for the two of them to be together now would mean their deaths. The room or house contains a raised pallet, crooked table, beat up shelves, and cupboards. There is a window opposite the pallet, and a drum propped up against the wall next to the plank wood door, the floor is covered with a layer of straw and rushes plus randomly strewn clothing. Through the window we can see a green hillside speckled with other such houses and a dim morning sky. At the top of this hill is the massive stone-walled Keep.
“Eyes.” says Zigler, “Some say they're the window to the soul. Lying next to Angelina and looking into hers after our lovemaking. I can't argue, for if her eyes reflect the brilliance of her soul then I am bewildered.”
Angelina awakens smiling as she gets out of bed wearing a chemise. She turns toward Zigler saying, “Come on, get up! We've got to be back in the Keep before Dugald awakens!”
“I know, I know,” replies the Bard, “but one must always take time to watch the sunrise.”
With that Zigler pushes off the bedcovers and sits on the side of the bed, staring at her.
“Fool, you weren't looking out the window!” says Angelina as she bends to pick up her dress from the floor. Zigler quickly gets up from the bed and catches her lips with his as she drops the emerald green dress.
“I know.” He says slowly pulling away.
As he does so Angelina’s hand, which had been pressed to the back of Zigler’s head, fall onto his upper arm and touch the bandage wrapped around it. She looks at the bloody bandage and asks, “You’ve been fighting with Jonathan again haven’t you?”
Zigler utters a sigh as he says, “It’s not fighting, and it’s sparring. If it weren’t, either one or both of us would be dead, with Dugald collecting on the winner in both cases.” Reaching down to pick up her dress earns him a light, playful slap on the chest from Angelina. Straightening up to help her put the dress on, both of them see a playful sparkle in the others eyes. Once the dress is on she goes to the bed and starts putting on her soft brown leather ankle boots, then watches Zigler who begins to dress himself in brown leather pants and a green tunic. Tying a brown leather belt around his waist he sits down beside Angelina and puts on his black leather boots.
Angelina looks down at the floor sadly as she reminds her lover, “We have two weeks of feasting and a celebration to prepare for the Coronation Anniversary; I might not see you again for a fortnight. The Lord Dugald prefers my….my ‘services’ after each feast.”
Attempting to lighten her mood Zigler quickly replies, “Time adds spice to any reunion and makes it that much more joyful.”
A heavy knocking soon starts at the door of the small house. Zigler gets up to answer it just as the door is kicked in and six of the Lord Dugald's retainers march in, two of them grabbing Angelina's shoulders and frog marching her towards the door of the house while the others surround Zigler.
“Let me go you big ox! Your Mother was a sow and your father mule! Now release me!” Angelina and the two retainers’ knock over a chair as they take her from the house and towards the Keep. The Captain, a burly looking and armored man entered after his men looking over his shoulder in surprise over the curses being rained down upon them by a mere concubine. Zigler looks at the Captain, a close friend of his who knew about his relationship with Angelina for several months and demands.
“What's going on here! Dammit, Jonathon what’s happening!”
Captain Jonathon turns to face Zigler and, reading from a scroll states, “Zigler Robertson, it has been decreed by our Lord Dugald that you are no longer allowed to see the Concubine Angelina upon punishment of expulsion from the Court and the lands of our Lord. You are expected at Court this evening to provide entertainment for the Lord's guests.”
A short pause follows as Zigler takes in this information. Dugald must know of their relationship and is now surly going to lock Angelina up so tightly that not even an elf could spring her. Jonathon sees the realization growing in Zigler’s eyes and quickly orders the remaining me out. He then uprights a knocked over chair sits down, his hands visibly gripping the top of the chair. Well away from the sword hilt at his belt. Looking at Zigler the Captain addresses his friend.
“I'm sorry this happened. From what I’ve learned the Lord Dugald was not watching us during our last few sparring matches. He was instead watching the concubines section of the gallery.” Jonathon smiles at the memory of their last practice match. “And during one of your swings at my legs you exposed your back and I hit you with the flat of my blade. You recall?” Zigler nods his head while at the same time rubbing the small of his back in memory of the hit. “Good ‘cause you were eating dirt for a handful of minutes afterwards.” Jonathon’s face becomes more serious as he gets closer to his point. “Angelina must have expressed her worry at that moment. Look Zig, its better that you forget about her. Come to my quarters in the Keep tonight, we’ll swap songs and tell each other lies. I’ve got some wine I’ve been saving for the right occasion.” Jonathon stands up and grasps his friend by the shoulders. The Bard looks at him as if only now truly seeing him. “Don’t do anything peasant-minded my friend.” Says Jonathon, “You need to keep your wits, such few as they are about you, I’ll see you tonight.” With that Captain Jonathon leaves and heads back toward the Keep, regretting having to leave his friend in such straits.
Zigler sits back down on the bed as if in a daze while thinking about all that just happened, what it means, what it will mean to his future and finally what he could do about it. Getting up from the bed he braces himself in the doorway, looking at the Keep. Yelling his anger and kicking the drum in Zigler remains there in the doorway, looking down at the punctured drum. Nodding his head as if he has made a hard decision the young Bard shouts, “Dugald shall not have her again, nor ANY woman!”
Zigler goes back into the house and begins going through the shelves and cupboards collecting bits and pieces of chainmail armor, a medicinal pouch and his weapons.
Chapter 3: Zigler’s trip to the Keep and through it to Dugald’s bed chambers
“It tells of the people he meets, says goodbye to, in the small village surrounding the Keep. How he bribes, fights Dugald is waiting for him with a knife to Angelina’s back.”
Zigler marches his way through the town and up towards the Keep. With his every step the chainmail jerkin jingles and with every sweep of his arm the sun glances of the jewels set within his leather bracers. His boots crunch on the dry ground as he passes by the huts of people he’s known all his life. Some of them stare through windows and around door jams, more fool hardy ones believe that Zigler is off to another sparing match and begin to march behind him. None of them see the look of death in the Bard’s eyes thanks to the hooded caplet draped over his head and underneath the straps of his baldric. They all notice the two swords; one on his left hip, the other is on his back within easy reach of his right hand.
Zigler approaches the Keeps servants’ entrance and is immediately stopped by the guard placed there. Reaching for the sword on his hip Zigler barely even hears the man speak as his sword slices the unfortunate guard form groin to chin. As the towns’ people who followed him flee, Zigler steps inside the Keep, making his way up towards his goal.
As he passes through the Keeps kitchen the cook and his assistants notice the bloody blade and attempt to stop Zigler.
“Stay well back Cedric!” Zigler says to the cook, “I’ve no quarrel with you or yours and there is only one man’s blood I wish to spill.”
Cedric looks at Zigler and scratches his bald head, showering dandruff upon the venison before him. “I to have no quarrel with you, but ye best be finding another way up stairs, for ye shalt not be using MY stairs.”
Zigler nods his agreement with the man and proceeds to the main hall’s staircase where the weak courtesan women flee before him. The men are not so weak willed and several go for their dress blades as Zigler approaches the bottom most step. He looks at them with an evil gleam in his eye, “Those things aren’t even suitable for cutting butter boys, and you know it.” Despite this warning several of them make an attempt to stop Zigler from going further. They all fail as one by one Zigler snaps their blades with his own. Finally one decides to rush the sword wielding Bard with nothing more than his bare fists. The young man charges straight into Zigler blade which then runs him through. As the remaining men scatter Zigler remounts the stairs and continues his quick march towards Dugald’s bed chambers.
Zigler passes through a long hallway, meeting no more resistance as he nears the bed chambers. As he turns a corner Zigler jerks himself back as he is suddenly faced with two fully armed and armored Retainers dressed in the red and black of Dugald’s standard. The three men stare at each other for a long time until one of the Retainers speaks, “We are to announce you Zigler Robertson. Not to engage you.” With that said the other Retainer knocks on the door and then opens it. “It is Zigler Robertson My Lord, he wishes an audience.”
Zigler is taken aback at the actions these two have taken, but grips his sword tighter as he resolves to do what he came here to do.
“Let him in,” says a male voice from inside the room,” I wish for my Bard to see something…..educational.”
Chapter 4: The death of Dugald
“The telling of how Angelina is mortally wounded how Dugald grabs a sword, the door guards join in and the ensuing fight. Of how Zigler ‘opens up Dugald’s fat gut and lets the wine drain out’ followed by blood.”
As Zigler enters the chambers he first sees Angelina in her chemise, which is now torn and hangs awkwardly from her left shoulder. Dugald is holding her by her hair as he turns them both in order to show Zigler the knife pressed to Angelina’s back. Dugald himself is just wearing a simple knee length jerkin, and the smells of sweat, sex and rape leave nothing to the imagination.
Zigler takes another step closer to the two as the doors are closed from the outside. “Just what is it you want Dugald.” Demands Zigler.
“Want, want? I want nothing my Bard. You see, I HAVE everything I need. Including my plaything here.” He presses the knife harder into Angelina’s back, eliciting a sharp squeal from the distressed lady. At the sound Zigler takes another step forward and reaches for the remaining sword on his back. Seeing this Dugald smiles and says, “So that how you want it to be. Fine then so be it!” He quickly plunges the knife deep into Angelina then throws her at Zigler. As Zigler catches her and eases her to the floor Dugald strides across the room to a fire place and removes his own sword from the wall. Thus brandishing he yells, “So Zigler, my loyal Bard, why such feeling for a piece of trash, used and abused by yours truly!” he grins evilly as he goes on, “After all, it’s not like I can’t have a dozen more concubines like her!” Dugald laughs long and hard as Zigler tends to Angelina’s wound, staunching the flowing blood first with his hand, then binding it with a roll of cloth taken from his pouch, knowing all the while that it will do little good.
“Hang on my love,” he says to her, “hang on long enough to watch me kill this beast.” With that Zigler stands and advances towards Dugald, rushing him Zigler forces the man back against the fireplace. The soon to be former Lord is taken by surprise at the quick and brutal attack and can only watch as Zigler raises his second sword and plunges it deep into Dugalds belly, draining both the wine and the blood.
Chapter 5: Angelina’s gift (and death)
“With her dying words Angelina utters unto Zigler a gift, and a curse. The gift is an emerald and gold circlet. The curse is her injunction to not die, and to one day love again.”
Dropping his swords Zigler quickly returns to his dying love’s side while tears stream down his face. “There’s nothing I can do for these wounds…” he says sadly. “It is alright my love,” says Angelina, “for we shall soon meet again in another land.” She reaches up to cup his cheek, holding her hand there Zigler looks down at her as the light slowly dims in her eyes. “Zigler… the night is long and deep. Please, find someone for you to keep, let not your love die with me.” She coughs and a little blood begins to appear at the corner of her mouth.
“I promise Angel Mine, now rest and be quiet, save your strength,” replies Zigler.
“No, I cannot, for there is one last thing, a token I’d like for you to carry as it will help me to look over you.”
“Yes my love, what is it?” asks the heart broken man.
“A criclet for your head. May you wear it forever more and think of the love to come. It is in our dresser, after you retrieve it, please flee from this land.” The light now fades completely from her eyes.
“Yes, yes” sobs Zigler as he clutches Angelina’s stilled body to his breast while the blood pools around his knees.
Time passes and is only marked by the ever increasing blood pools in the room. Inevitably they join and flow towards the fireplace, extinguishing the few remaining coals and plunging the room into darkness. That darkness is nowhere even close to the darkness which has shadowed the eyes of the former Court Bard Zigler Robertson.
Chapter 1: Mittelmarch
“Wherein it is told how Zigler came to the land of Mittelmarch with the assistance of Oof, the Hill Giant.”
Exiled from his home, the former Court Bard left the lands he knew since his childhood and headed north. Past the Lowlands where the Hobbits dwell, over the mountains, and crossing various fjords and rivers, he traveled for many weeks often coming across a nice farming family with need for another hand to work the fields and who offered a warm bed and food. Soon Zigler had traveled beyond where and sensible map's boundaries’ reached.
It was a gray skied day when Zigler stumbles into the swamp that’s braced on either side by two large hills. Braving the swamps dangers, he musters forth, dodging sand pits, large rats, and a strange hag with albino skin. As he travels deeper into the swamp, the fog becomes thicker and thicker until Zigler can only see by the light of an occasional flaming gas pocket. Suddenly, Zigler hears a thrashing off to his right, stopping his movements, Zigler listens.
"Where is Squishy?"
The footsteps squelch loudly, proclaiming that something heavy this way comes.
"Squishy be here! Oof know it!"
Not wanting to stop and find out who or what this 'Oof' is Zigler quietly move forward. The squelching gets closer.
"SQUISHY STAND STILL!"
Out of the fog steps a large Hill Giant. In one hand he holds a tree (torn up by its roots) in the other he holds an oversized axe-hammer. Zigler, having glimpsed this sight, wisely begins to doge and snake his way around the Hill Giant and back into the swamp.
"Squishy stand still so Oof can squish squishy!"
The Giant begins to pursue Zigler as he runs for his f***ing life. For he knows that he is no match for a well trained Dwarf, much less a lumbering, purpose driven Hill Giant.
"I'm not the Squishy you’re looking for!" Shouts Zigler towards Oof.
"It not matter, you still a Squishy that needin' to be squished," says Oof.
"Aww Crap!" Zigler continues to run deeper into the swamp and the fog, occasionally tripping on a root or the tail of a rat.
The two would-be combatants run aimlessly through the fog and the swamp. Encountering pitfalls, mud holes, and attacking tree limbs all the way.
Oof panting from the long run, "Squishy come here so you be squished!"
Zigler is in as bad, if not worse condition as he says to himself, “Too many damned parties, I should have listened to that guy back in Belle Terra, 'Work out!’ he said. Dammit!"
Pretty soon the fog is so dense that Zigler can no longer see his nose, but he keeps running.
"Squishy, here Squishy Squishy, Oof has big present for Squishy," Oof shouts as he too is enveloped in the all encompassing fog.
With a sudden terribleness the fog clears and Zigler can see feel a breeze through his hair. Standing and looking around at his new surroundings he spies an old, pitted, wooden sign that reads "MittelMarch." Zigler stands there, shell shocked until he feels a large presence looming behind him.
Before he can bolt he hears Oof's booming voice shout, “YOU IN MITTELMARCH NOW FOO!" Zigler cannot argue as the world suddenly turns first white, then black.
****
Blackness.
"It's like Hertz-renta photon carted away both sun and moon."
Darkness.
"Never before have I been in this place."
.....shhhsszzz..
"Whats that? Who's there?"
.....shhhhbluexxaaa...
What? Please, tell me where I am!"
"Mittlemarch foo, Oof told you."
I don't reply as I struggle to regain my wits.
With memories, come thought, and light!
I open my eyes and look around. Sitting up I hold my head with both hands as my brain tries to leak out my ears.
My eyes immediately spy a Hill Giant named Oof, whose most expressed wish, last I recalled, was to 'squish' me. However, said Hill Giant had become distracted, thus explaining my unsquished state. Standing up and craning my neck I see what distracted him.
"Is MINE!" Oof shouts as he tries to backhand me.
He mutters, "Is blue, is mine, is gooood" and he takes a drink from his cupped hands.
Looking around nervously I say, "Thats fine, Oof. it's yours, all yours. But if you don't mind I'm gonna go over there for awhile." I point towards the hill on my left and slowly inches my way over.
"Squishy no go!" shouts Oof, half rising from his haunches to add credit to his threat.
"No, no, no, Squishy will be back. Squishy just has to take care of something in the pub. Squishy will be right back."
"Squishy go, bring Oof back good beer."
"Yes, Squishy will bring back good beer."
Oof goes back to drinking the strange blue liquid.
Taking a few cautious steps away from Oof, I soon break into a full run as I near the top of a hill. I'm halfway down the other side before I realize the visage in front of me. Spread out at my feet is a moderately sized town that is quartered off in some areas, but with free flowing traffic between all areas. From my view point I see the fires of the blacksmiths and the cooking merchants. On the far side of the village I see a forest with trees to match even the height of a Hill Giant. But most important of all I notice the five men in night black armor running towards me as a bell tolls in the town. Other men form up on the walls as common citizenry flee into buildings, or stand and watch the goings on.
"I don't know who these people are," I say to myself. "But my only other option is on the other side of this hill."
...
...
...
"I hope they like music."
I raise my arms, palms upward to show that I am not holding any weapons as I await my saviors, or quite possibly, my slayers.
Chapter 2
In which we meet Zigler, Angelina, and Jonathon among others.
"....And to you I say 'By danny K. you'll never out fox the Fox'......"
Loud applause fills the Great Hall from the Court as I finish singing.
"A most gracious thank you to you my Ladies, and to you my Lords, it was a great pleasure to present that song for your entertainment in this my Lord Dugald's Court."
"Thank you my bard" says the Lord Dugald, "but now I grow weary and wish to sleep. Court dismissed!"
"COURT DISMISSED" the Crier repeated, and as his shout echoes through the Keeps walls my mouth cannot help but beg for water as the night’s performance has dried my throat. Dressed in my Court lively I walk through the halls of the Keep, headed towards the servant’s exit, while returning gestures and summons with smiles and a turn of phrase when the status of the individual required it. My flowing green silk garment and golden vest seem more and more out of place as I travel down the passages that no Noble or guest. Before exiting I pass by the kitchen in hopes of grabbing a leg of lamb left unattended after the Court feast. The blood shot eyes of the Lord's cook however sway me from performing this action.
The sky is full of stars as I exit the Keep proper onto the surrounding hillside. As I walk towards my smallish hut I keep my eyes looking up at the sky in hopes that I might glimpse the stars.
"Zigler" a soft voice whispers into my ear.
I promptly trip over my feet and land on my back. I stare up at my tormentor, "You should not be out here," I say.
"Our Lord Dugald did not wish my services tonight," Angelina simply replies.
Sometime later in a medieval, one room house Zigler is staring lovingly at the sleeping form of Mistress Angelina. She is a Concubine in the Lord Dugald’s service and for the two of them to be together now would mean their deaths. The room or house contains a raised pallet, crooked table, beat up shelves, and cupboards. There is a window opposite the pallet, and a drum propped up against the wall next to the plank wood door, the floor is covered with a layer of straw and rushes plus randomly strewn clothing. Through the window we can see a green hillside speckled with other such houses and a dim morning sky. At the top of this hill is the massive stone-walled Keep.
“Eyes.” says Zigler, “Some say they're the window to the soul. Lying next to Angelina and looking into hers after our lovemaking. I can't argue, for if her eyes reflect the brilliance of her soul then I am bewildered.”
Angelina awakens smiling as she gets out of bed wearing a chemise. She turns toward Zigler saying, “Come on, get up! We've got to be back in the Keep before Dugald awakens!”
“I know, I know,” replies the Bard, “but one must always take time to watch the sunrise.”
With that Zigler pushes off the bedcovers and sits on the side of the bed, staring at her.
“Fool, you weren't looking out the window!” says Angelina as she bends to pick up her dress from the floor. Zigler quickly gets up from the bed and catches her lips with his as she drops the emerald green dress.
“I know.” He says slowly pulling away.
As he does so Angelina’s hand, which had been pressed to the back of Zigler’s head, fall onto his upper arm and touch the bandage wrapped around it. She looks at the bloody bandage and asks, “You’ve been fighting with Jonathan again haven’t you?”
Zigler utters a sigh as he says, “It’s not fighting, and it’s sparring. If it weren’t, either one or both of us would be dead, with Dugald collecting on the winner in both cases.” Reaching down to pick up her dress earns him a light, playful slap on the chest from Angelina. Straightening up to help her put the dress on, both of them see a playful sparkle in the others eyes. Once the dress is on she goes to the bed and starts putting on her soft brown leather ankle boots, then watches Zigler who begins to dress himself in brown leather pants and a green tunic. Tying a brown leather belt around his waist he sits down beside Angelina and puts on his black leather boots.
Angelina looks down at the floor sadly as she reminds her lover, “We have two weeks of feasting and a celebration to prepare for the Coronation Anniversary; I might not see you again for a fortnight. The Lord Dugald prefers my….my ‘services’ after each feast.”
Attempting to lighten her mood Zigler quickly replies, “Time adds spice to any reunion and makes it that much more joyful.”
A heavy knocking soon starts at the door of the small house. Zigler gets up to answer it just as the door is kicked in and six of the Lord Dugald's retainers march in, two of them grabbing Angelina's shoulders and frog marching her towards the door of the house while the others surround Zigler.
“Let me go you big ox! Your Mother was a sow and your father mule! Now release me!” Angelina and the two retainers’ knock over a chair as they take her from the house and towards the Keep. The Captain, a burly looking and armored man entered after his men looking over his shoulder in surprise over the curses being rained down upon them by a mere concubine. Zigler looks at the Captain, a close friend of his who knew about his relationship with Angelina for several months and demands.
“What's going on here! Dammit, Jonathon what’s happening!”
Captain Jonathon turns to face Zigler and, reading from a scroll states, “Zigler Robertson, it has been decreed by our Lord Dugald that you are no longer allowed to see the Concubine Angelina upon punishment of expulsion from the Court and the lands of our Lord. You are expected at Court this evening to provide entertainment for the Lord's guests.”
A short pause follows as Zigler takes in this information. Dugald must know of their relationship and is now surly going to lock Angelina up so tightly that not even an elf could spring her. Jonathon sees the realization growing in Zigler’s eyes and quickly orders the remaining me out. He then uprights a knocked over chair sits down, his hands visibly gripping the top of the chair. Well away from the sword hilt at his belt. Looking at Zigler the Captain addresses his friend.
“I'm sorry this happened. From what I’ve learned the Lord Dugald was not watching us during our last few sparring matches. He was instead watching the concubines section of the gallery.” Jonathon smiles at the memory of their last practice match. “And during one of your swings at my legs you exposed your back and I hit you with the flat of my blade. You recall?” Zigler nods his head while at the same time rubbing the small of his back in memory of the hit. “Good ‘cause you were eating dirt for a handful of minutes afterwards.” Jonathon’s face becomes more serious as he gets closer to his point. “Angelina must have expressed her worry at that moment. Look Zig, its better that you forget about her. Come to my quarters in the Keep tonight, we’ll swap songs and tell each other lies. I’ve got some wine I’ve been saving for the right occasion.” Jonathon stands up and grasps his friend by the shoulders. The Bard looks at him as if only now truly seeing him. “Don’t do anything peasant-minded my friend.” Says Jonathon, “You need to keep your wits, such few as they are about you, I’ll see you tonight.” With that Captain Jonathon leaves and heads back toward the Keep, regretting having to leave his friend in such straits.
Zigler sits back down on the bed as if in a daze while thinking about all that just happened, what it means, what it will mean to his future and finally what he could do about it. Getting up from the bed he braces himself in the doorway, looking at the Keep. Yelling his anger and kicking the drum in Zigler remains there in the doorway, looking down at the punctured drum. Nodding his head as if he has made a hard decision the young Bard shouts, “Dugald shall not have her again, nor ANY woman!”
Zigler goes back into the house and begins going through the shelves and cupboards collecting bits and pieces of chainmail armor, a medicinal pouch and his weapons.
Chapter 3: Zigler’s trip to the Keep and through it to Dugald’s bed chambers
“It tells of the people he meets, says goodbye to, in the small village surrounding the Keep. How he bribes, fights Dugald is waiting for him with a knife to Angelina’s back.”
Zigler marches his way through the town and up towards the Keep. With his every step the chainmail jerkin jingles and with every sweep of his arm the sun glances of the jewels set within his leather bracers. His boots crunch on the dry ground as he passes by the huts of people he’s known all his life. Some of them stare through windows and around door jams, more fool hardy ones believe that Zigler is off to another sparing match and begin to march behind him. None of them see the look of death in the Bard’s eyes thanks to the hooded caplet draped over his head and underneath the straps of his baldric. They all notice the two swords; one on his left hip, the other is on his back within easy reach of his right hand.
Zigler approaches the Keeps servants’ entrance and is immediately stopped by the guard placed there. Reaching for the sword on his hip Zigler barely even hears the man speak as his sword slices the unfortunate guard form groin to chin. As the towns’ people who followed him flee, Zigler steps inside the Keep, making his way up towards his goal.
As he passes through the Keeps kitchen the cook and his assistants notice the bloody blade and attempt to stop Zigler.
“Stay well back Cedric!” Zigler says to the cook, “I’ve no quarrel with you or yours and there is only one man’s blood I wish to spill.”
Cedric looks at Zigler and scratches his bald head, showering dandruff upon the venison before him. “I to have no quarrel with you, but ye best be finding another way up stairs, for ye shalt not be using MY stairs.”
Zigler nods his agreement with the man and proceeds to the main hall’s staircase where the weak courtesan women flee before him. The men are not so weak willed and several go for their dress blades as Zigler approaches the bottom most step. He looks at them with an evil gleam in his eye, “Those things aren’t even suitable for cutting butter boys, and you know it.” Despite this warning several of them make an attempt to stop Zigler from going further. They all fail as one by one Zigler snaps their blades with his own. Finally one decides to rush the sword wielding Bard with nothing more than his bare fists. The young man charges straight into Zigler blade which then runs him through. As the remaining men scatter Zigler remounts the stairs and continues his quick march towards Dugald’s bed chambers.
Zigler passes through a long hallway, meeting no more resistance as he nears the bed chambers. As he turns a corner Zigler jerks himself back as he is suddenly faced with two fully armed and armored Retainers dressed in the red and black of Dugald’s standard. The three men stare at each other for a long time until one of the Retainers speaks, “We are to announce you Zigler Robertson. Not to engage you.” With that said the other Retainer knocks on the door and then opens it. “It is Zigler Robertson My Lord, he wishes an audience.”
Zigler is taken aback at the actions these two have taken, but grips his sword tighter as he resolves to do what he came here to do.
“Let him in,” says a male voice from inside the room,” I wish for my Bard to see something…..educational.”
Chapter 4: The death of Dugald
“The telling of how Angelina is mortally wounded how Dugald grabs a sword, the door guards join in and the ensuing fight. Of how Zigler ‘opens up Dugald’s fat gut and lets the wine drain out’ followed by blood.”
As Zigler enters the chambers he first sees Angelina in her chemise, which is now torn and hangs awkwardly from her left shoulder. Dugald is holding her by her hair as he turns them both in order to show Zigler the knife pressed to Angelina’s back. Dugald himself is just wearing a simple knee length jerkin, and the smells of sweat, sex and rape leave nothing to the imagination.
Zigler takes another step closer to the two as the doors are closed from the outside. “Just what is it you want Dugald.” Demands Zigler.
“Want, want? I want nothing my Bard. You see, I HAVE everything I need. Including my plaything here.” He presses the knife harder into Angelina’s back, eliciting a sharp squeal from the distressed lady. At the sound Zigler takes another step forward and reaches for the remaining sword on his back. Seeing this Dugald smiles and says, “So that how you want it to be. Fine then so be it!” He quickly plunges the knife deep into Angelina then throws her at Zigler. As Zigler catches her and eases her to the floor Dugald strides across the room to a fire place and removes his own sword from the wall. Thus brandishing he yells, “So Zigler, my loyal Bard, why such feeling for a piece of trash, used and abused by yours truly!” he grins evilly as he goes on, “After all, it’s not like I can’t have a dozen more concubines like her!” Dugald laughs long and hard as Zigler tends to Angelina’s wound, staunching the flowing blood first with his hand, then binding it with a roll of cloth taken from his pouch, knowing all the while that it will do little good.
“Hang on my love,” he says to her, “hang on long enough to watch me kill this beast.” With that Zigler stands and advances towards Dugald, rushing him Zigler forces the man back against the fireplace. The soon to be former Lord is taken by surprise at the quick and brutal attack and can only watch as Zigler raises his second sword and plunges it deep into Dugalds belly, draining both the wine and the blood.
Chapter 5: Angelina’s gift (and death)
“With her dying words Angelina utters unto Zigler a gift, and a curse. The gift is an emerald and gold circlet. The curse is her injunction to not die, and to one day love again.”
Dropping his swords Zigler quickly returns to his dying love’s side while tears stream down his face. “There’s nothing I can do for these wounds…” he says sadly. “It is alright my love,” says Angelina, “for we shall soon meet again in another land.” She reaches up to cup his cheek, holding her hand there Zigler looks down at her as the light slowly dims in her eyes. “Zigler… the night is long and deep. Please, find someone for you to keep, let not your love die with me.” She coughs and a little blood begins to appear at the corner of her mouth.
“I promise Angel Mine, now rest and be quiet, save your strength,” replies Zigler.
“No, I cannot, for there is one last thing, a token I’d like for you to carry as it will help me to look over you.”
“Yes my love, what is it?” asks the heart broken man.
“A criclet for your head. May you wear it forever more and think of the love to come. It is in our dresser, after you retrieve it, please flee from this land.” The light now fades completely from her eyes.
“Yes, yes” sobs Zigler as he clutches Angelina’s stilled body to his breast while the blood pools around his knees.
Time passes and is only marked by the ever increasing blood pools in the room. Inevitably they join and flow towards the fireplace, extinguishing the few remaining coals and plunging the room into darkness. That darkness is nowhere even close to the darkness which has shadowed the eyes of the former Court Bard Zigler Robertson.
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