Maelor

The Tower, In the Summer of 1468

“Your crimes are manifest cur, I will ensure that you are never pardoned” the haughty face of De Beauchamp looked through the grill at the man shackled to the wall.

“I’ve escaped from worse, hell I could piss clear across that moat. Then I’ll be back in Warwick, I understand the Lady Cecily likes to hear of my adventures.” a wicked grin flashes across the prisoner’s feature, even shackled to the wall, they hold a threat and a promise of danger. “She especially liked the one about the young knight forced to escort the beautiful princess to an evil…”

“Be silent, Cecily would not soil herself with the likes of a rapist and thug such as yourself. The stories of your crimes will only be heard by the Judge before he passes sentence upon you. And the tower is not some half broken pit in Northamptonshire guarded by the village idiot and his in-bred children.”

“You speak so kindly of your peers, such a true knight. Out of interest, where did you hide away the proceeds of my chevauchee?”

“I have no idea what you are speaking of – what little of the funds you extorted from the peasentry we have restored to them. I suspect there was nothing left after your whoring.”

“If I paid, it could hardly be against their will, but I doubt such sophistry is in your compass.” inwardly he seethes, knowing the Earl has redistributed his funds. He looks over the latin of the court, sees he has been expressly forbidden from pardon. Sighing he turns over his parchment and begins to scribble his notes.

As the night draws in, he is visited again by the blond woman, the visits are more frequent now, each one spurring him on to greater activity with his pen. The tales she utters to him of magic and power enthrall him and inspire him to produce grater works.
“>_The Tower, In the Summer of 1468_

“Your crimes are manifest cur, I will ensure that you are never pardoned” the haughty face of De Beauchamp looked through the grill at the man shackled to the wall.

“I’ve escaped from worse, hell I could piss clear across that moat. Then I’ll be back in Warwick, I understand the Lady Cecily likes to hear of my adventures.” a wicked grin flashes across the prisoner’s feature, even shackled to the wall, they hold a threat and a promise of danger. “She especially liked the one about the young knight forced to escort the beautiful princess to an evil…”

“Be silent, Cecily would not soil herself with the likes of a rapist and thug such as yourself. The stories of your crimes will only be heard by the Judge before he passes sentence upon you. And the tower is not some half broken pit in Northamptonshire guarded by the village idiot and his in-bred children.”

“You speak so kindly of your peers, such a true knight. Out of interest, where did you hide away the proceeds of my chevauchee?”

“I have no idea what you are speaking of – what little of the funds you extorted from the peasentry we have restored to them. I suspect there was nothing left after your whoring.”

“If I paid, it could hardly be against their will, but I doubt such sophistry is in your compass.” inwardly he seethes, knowing the Earl has redistributed his funds. He looks over the latin of the court, sees he has been expressly forbidden from pardon. Sighing he turns over his parchment and begins to scribble his notes.

As the night draws in, he is visited again by the blond woman, the visits are more frequent now, each one spurring him on to greater activity with his pen. The tales she utters to him of magic and power enthrall him and inspire him to produce grater works.

Maelor

The Hollow Crown Melanctonsmith