Friday, November 18, 2016

An Epic Tale, Part IV

"What ho, dear brother!" Ludmilla the Insatiable cried as she leaped from her war unicorn and bounded up the steps to the tower three at a time.

"Hello 'Milla," Spatchcock replied flatly, blowing pipeweed smoke into her face. "What brings you here?"

"I was riding through yon hills and saw this village and tower in the distance and I said to my esquire, Spunge," she indicated a put upon man who was trying, without much success, to control the war unicorn, " 'Spunge, what village is that?'

" 'Why tis the village of Fisting-in-the-Dale, Milady', he replied.

"And I said, 'A-ha! Why that is the home of my dear bother, the mighty mage, Spatchcock the Green!  Let us go bid him greetings.'"

Spatchcock puffed on his pipe for several moments.  Then blowing more smoke in his sister's face he asked, "You don't really expect me to believe that, do you?"

Irate, Ludmilla drew herself up to her full height, loomed over her older brother and then suddenly deflated.

"Spatchy, I'm in trouble," she said meekly.


[Author's Note: I stole the name Fisting-in-the-Dale from comedian Greg Proops.  He used it in a bit about the quaint names of some English villages.]

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