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Memoirs of a Miserable Git.......part one
By Lucas Blunt
A DAY IN THE LIFE OF LUCAS BLUNT, INTRODUCTION BY LUCAS...
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Firstly young uns, just because ive decided to share a little of
my wisdom with you buggers doesn't mean that I Now then listen up while I tell you............(loud snores "Ugggggh...where am I ? ....yes I remember!" |
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The old man rolled out of the pile of hay that served as his bed, his old bones creaked in the morning chill. He had given up sleeping in beds the day the price of a night at the inn rose to 3 gold pieces. Llucas Blunt had not slept in a bed for the last 52 years.
After a breakfast of the obligatory rusks in milk he gathered together his meager possessions. A staff, a variety of needles and threads and his one set of particularly soiled clothing. Lucas, it must be said, had never really got to grips with eating in general and now relied on the law of averages to get at least some of the food into his mouth, thus the state of his clothes. A cursory glance in the pocket mirror told Lucas all he needed to know. He was too bloody old for all this work stuff!!
Despite his loathing he shuffled out into his own personal nightmare.......JHELOM......city of adventures, land of opportunity....all in all Jhelom had too many people, houses and animals (and old gits...EH) for Lucas's taste (although the local nobility seemed to getting thinner on the ground by the day!) A short walk (for non old people) from the inn saw Lucas at the teleport to the field. The usual disorientation of the trip to northfield added a few more stains to his garments. This was nothing new and the old man didn't notice such trivial things as vomit or drool (obviously...EH). Work then began for real. Stepping over the still twitching corpse of Lord Tiverton, being so kindly guarded by IKILLYOUALL, the young fighter in the orc mask, Lucas walked into the field.
Hefting his staff nonchalantly the grey bearded pensioner stumbled past a goat grazing in the morning sun. As he drew level with the fluffy billygoat, Lucas casually brought the staff around in a whirl of speed that suprised all ( including Lucas). Having crushed the creatures skull to a messy pulp he knelt and slowly began to liberate the leather from its former owner.
Hour after hour the stooped figure could be seen, mutilating small creatures and shouting foul abuse at every human within earshot. After an eternity of butchery Lucas sat down and began to create .... Soon gloves, gorgets and numerous tunics were stuffed in his pack. A last survey of the area showed no larger sign of life than that which already inhabited Lucas's hair ...off then to sell his wares to an unsuspecting townsfolk.
Experience had taught the old man that the armourer to the south of town was the best place to sell his armour. The fact that this particular establishment was the only place in Jhelom that would buy from the rude and dishevelled pensioner had passed our hero by, like so much in his life. He barged his way to the front of the que swearing profusely as he went. Lucas manged to cash his surprisingly good leather armour into a few gold coins and then, with the only smile to have crossed his face that day, Lucas Blunt shuffled back to the inn to gorge himself on mashed up vegetables and tankards of stout....perhaps later to fall asleep over the cribbage board or in the gutter....both options seemed as good as each other to a man such as Lucas.............. to be continued.....................
