Smithy of Malgarth

The Bacon sizzled in the pan of justice, an old man stood before the stove, his shoulders wide and broad, his hair thinning and grey, trimmed short.  His chain-mail shirt was aged and had many chinks in it but it was free from rust.  He cracked an egg open on the edge of the frying pan and let the yolk break upon impact, just as he liked.  He licked his lips at the thought of this Sunday morning Breakfast.  Shuffling to one side he started to slice bread from the Loaf he picked up at Sally's Bakery in town the other day. She used to put the little seeds on the top which he liked a lot, They got caught in his beard and made a good snack for later.

He gripped the Bread-knife of Truth and cut two nice wedges from the bread.  There was no need to be frugal any longer, the fields were yielding good crops again and the Farmers, Woodsmen, and City folk were happy.  Nobody was trying to blow them up, No Dragons were falling from the sky, No Goblin horde was encroaching on their walls.  Peace was good for the city. 

He paused for a moment and sipped his coffee from the Chalice of Honour, then walked to the door of his little shack and opened the door, It was raining outside, but his fire was lit and he was warm inside.  The smell of bacon wafted through the doorway and into the forest, raindrops mesmerized him as he hugged his warm coffee chalice, His wise eyes of blue staring off into infinity as memories of ages past, flashed before him.

The Knights in their armor, The pennants fluttering in the breeze in a multitude of colors.  Sigils and emblems aplenty, more than any man cared to learn.  The churning of mud as a thousand horses charged across a wet field, The roar of defiance from the Drow Warriors, The Lances leveled and braced for impact. He smiled those were the days, That was when he felt alive, That was when he made a difference in the fight against darkness, rooting out evil wherever it may lay.  

He blinked and realized he was wielding the Bread-knife of Truth in a fairly aggressive stance, he quickly put it down and hurried over to his bacon and eggs, which were sizzling nicely in the frying pan of Justice.  He carefully scooped out the two rashers of Bacon and laid them on the bread. Then extracted the egg, mostly in one piece and lay that on the top, before delicately slicing the whole thing into a diagonal sandwich.  A bit like the crest under which he rode, but cut in half.  Tomorrow he would make two sandwiches and reform the crest of Malgarth, But for now, he held aloft his creation.

"Behold the Bacon and Egg Sandwich of Truth, Justice and the Malgarthian way!"

He smiled at this thought and turned towards the door to take his seat and watch the rain.  Somebody was stood in the doorway, Dark with rain dripping off them. he opened his mouth to speak and the crossbow bolt went through it, pinning his tongue to the back of his skull and severing his spinal column at the same time.  The venom it delivered into his bloodstream did not help him either.  

The Bacon and Egg Sandwich fell to the floor uneaten by his lips.  It would, however, provide sustenance to Four Squirrels, Three Rats, Two dozen ants and a rather podgy cat called Mauve.

Eventually, the fire went out and the rain stopped.  The moon came out and sprinkled down its light on the little clearing, shadows rose from the ground and carried him away to hidden places underground for what nefarious deeds we know not what.  Who was this old man, From whence did he come hither?  To where did he go-eth?  Who knoweth?  What thinkest thou?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Gideon & Ranger team six

Yaels Death

Grannie & the Elven Council