New Lore Entry
Damien Boom Boom of the Valley threw back his cape and puffed his chest, letting out a boisterous HA HA HA at the intruder.
“So, Sir Arthur Goodknight,” he spat. “Are you really so eager to die today?”
Sir Arthur Goodknight drew his sword and pointed it toward Damien, sunlight gleaming off its sharpened edges. He tossed his long blonde hair over his shoulder, and gazed intently at his opponent.
“Your reign of terror is at an end, you wicked villain! You will feel the thrust of my avenging blade before this day is out!”
“Oh, I’m so afraid! Sir Arthur Goodknight, the most valiant paladin of justice this realm has ever seen, has come to my lair to slay me! What shall I do?”
Damien’s night wolf, Malchizor, ran to his master’s side and growled a terrible, low growl. Arthur drew back, lowering his sword and regarding the animal warily.
“HA HA HA. I see you’ve met Malchizor, the Demonic Hell Hound, who ate his way out of his bitch mother’s womb, whose bark can terrify the skin off a man, and who delights in snacking on the bones of little boys and girls everywhere! Malchizor, kill!”
The wolf leapt toward Arthur. The knight dodged, and threw down a piece of roast mutton onto the floor. Malchizor attacked it greedily, before trotting off to enjoy his meal.
“Curses! Fine, I’ll just handle you myself!”
Damien threw his arms out and charged at Arthur, dodging low to avoid the knight’s swinging blade. He wrapped his arms around his armor, and drove him to the ground, rearing back to throw a punch when Arthur backhanded Damien, sending him spinning to the floor. The two foes grappled, trading the advantage, before Damien Boom Boom of the Valley succumbed and lay pin beneath Sir Arthur Goodknight.
The knight pressed his arm against Damien’s throat, gritting his teeth and aggressively grunting. Damien’s arms flailed, slapping fruitlessly at his assailant’s chainmail, before lying still at his sides.
Sir Arthur Goodknight climbed off his defeated foe, slowly standing and lifting his arms into the air.
“Damien Boom Boom of the Valley is no more! A great victory for truth and justice was won today!”
Arthur held this position and waited for applause. The handful of villagers who had come to the outskirts of town clapped politely. A donkey brayed.
Damien jumped up to enjoy the applause himself, when one of the gathered youths remarked, “Hey, he’s not dead!”
“I wish I were.”
Later that night, Damien carried a jug of fresh well water, filled Malchizor’s bowl and then kissed the dog’s head, filling the evening air with questions of “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy? That’s right! You are! You’re a good boy! You’resuchagoodboymwahmwahmwah.”
Damien carried the jug toward the campfire, where Arthur spit shined his absurdly large, stylistically inappropriate helm, and set it down beside him.
“Is there no ale?”
Damien sighed.
“Haven’t got money for ale. Barely got money for food.”
“Well how much money did we make today?”
“One piece per adult attendee, a ha’penny per child… that’s eight and half…”
“So how much does that sum up to with what we already have?”
Damien looked at his partner with the emotionless, empty stare that comes with years of sustained disappointment and sweet regret.
“…eight and a half.”
Arthur worked over the figures in his mind for a moment.
“What’s that get us in ales?”
Entered by: 0xC56C…C0d1 and preserved on chain (see transaction)
