Von Richter.
Specialist
- Joined
- Apr 10, 2019
- Messages
- 277
To celebrate their great victory over the Northmen, Putrid son of Putrid and Bishop Bonk have declared a Victory Feast Day. The great and the good are arriving from all the neighboring Saxon parishes. The cart carrying the most crucial and essential ingredient of said feast, the Ale, is trundling toward Putrid's Great Hall, when with a loud crack, the axle snaps. Leaving a guard with the cart the escort march off to fetch the Blacksmith from the nearby village to effect repair. From the woods to the North, greedy and covetous eyes are watching proceedings... and licking thirsty lips! Thorkel the Tall and his Flagman lead the charge from the woods across two acre field. Normally the sight of a Viking charge sends the Saxons into a proper attack of the vapours, but today Thorkel has made a grave error. The Saxons, ill disciplined rabble that they are, have breached one of the Ale barrels and have become fighting drunk. They meet the Viking charge head on and cut down the attackers in a drunken frenzy! Thorkel, stunned at the sudden reversal of his fortunes and desertion by his Gods, legs it away across two acre field but is caught by the baying mob and wrestled to the ground. As he's dragged back toward the Ale cart Thorkel's day gets even worse as, Putrid son of Putrid comes poncing up the road at the head of the relief column, with the local blacksmith in tow.
Putrid son of Putrid arrives to rescue the booze, the horned helmet of a despondent and crestfallen Thorkel, can just be discerned behind Putrid's charger! What of the victorious guarders of the Ale cart? They're staggering drunkenly out of two acre field.
Putrid son of Putrid arrives to rescue the booze, the horned helmet of a despondent and crestfallen Thorkel, can just be discerned behind Putrid's charger! What of the victorious guarders of the Ale cart? They're staggering drunkenly out of two acre field.
Last edited: