Friday, November 04, 2005
495
Sir Mortimer wails
The end of the world?
I think we've turned a corner with Earl Roderick: even though our envoy to the north was unsuccessful, we did well enough that the earl kept us close during a great battle with the Saxon kings Octa and Eosa. The Battle of Saint Albans! Incredibly exciting. I tell you, we really kicked Saxon ass! Sir Ebble was our squad leader, and I think is turning into a promising leader of men. Tons of glory.
We retired to a nearby castle for our victory feast, and oh, it was glorious to see the shining faces celebrating at the high table. Until they reddened with poison and keeled over dead, that is.
We were stunned. All the high table, and most of the knights and ladies in the hall lying on the floor, dead! If it hadn't been for the calm head of Sir Ebble I don't know that we could have secured the castle or made our orderly retreat back to Sarum with the news. Oh, the look on Countess Ellen's face–tragic! It was terrible, delivering into her hand the signet ring of her dead lord.
But it's all terrible. They're all dead.
What will we do?
