Tale of the Week 13 - Break the tie or die!
Two equal gentlemen are bound to fight it out!
Juvenal
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Horsemen of the Apocalypse
The three riders plodded slowly across the burning plain, two seeming to wink in and out of existence, as if not fully committed to this world.
“I really can't be bothered any more”, said gaunt black Death. “All I get here are the regurgitated left-overs from that greedy bastard”.
“Don't you get the nobles when they pop their clogs over doing it in the harem or in the feasting hall?” suggested Famine, portly and sweating in his tightly fitting full plate armour.
“Yes, but most of them die in suicidal charges, which means War gets them first. By the time I see them they're all dried out and they taste disgusting”.
“Count yourself lucky”, said Famine, “I get nothing at all, armies can sit in the middle of the desert for a hundred years and no one starves!”
“As for Pestilence,” he continued, gesturing to the pathetic figure bringing up the rear, “the next scripted plague is fifty years away, so he has to carry it himself until then, poor bugger ...You all right back there?” The figure attempted a response, but all that came out was a wet gurgling cough.
The two of them agreed that War was definitely having all the fun.
Famine continued in a low voice “Actually I've been rather naughty, I took all the siege casualties, after all it doesn't actually say they die of disease – it could easily have been starvation, they don't even have refrigeration yet!”
Looking back they saw the Pestilence had stopped, his back arched in a spasm. He gave a great racking choking cough that sent blood and bile arcing through the air only to be swallowed instantly by the parched earth. Then he toppled slowly from his horse. While he was still falling, both rider and horse abruptly disappeared.
“Well, that's torn it.” said Pestilence. “I'm off too, maybe we'll have better luck in ETW”.
The burning plain was empty, natural disasters no longer worked and soldiers still lived forever, but at least War was happy.
Pontifex
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Blood andSand
-for sensi XD
The bolt struck his neck, just above the breastplate. The brilliant spray of red that splattered along the steed's back was closely followed by the warrior's last dying breath as he slid from the saddle. The warrior landed in a crumpled pile of his own gear, once polished and shining, but now blighted with smears or bloody mud.
About 100 yards away, standing on the hilltop, a young man wielding a crossbow recovered from the slight recoil of his weapon and looked towards the field. It was almost impossible to plot the flight of his bolt through the chaos of the enemy charge, but he was fairly certain the bolt hit a target, as several mounts fell at about the same time his bolt would have reached the enemy. With a smirk, the young European again went about reloading his weapon. The desert sand scorched his feet as he struggled to pull the string back on his weapon. Reaching for an arrow, the young marksman heard a whirring buzz, and in an instant his comrade nearby was struck down with nothing but plumage visible and protruding from the hole in his chest.
Looking quickly to his left, cold fear gripped him as the crossbowman realized their position was flanked by mounted archers. The buzz of panic and horror was quickly stifled by a silent dart, loosed from an unknown rider, which found it's mark in the man's belly. As the man fell, his bowels opened and a mixture of filth and blood mixed with the gray sand. The cold eyes of the dead stare straight ahead, uncaring as the bodies were claimed by the desert. Standing on a distant holltop, the ghastly visage of a mounted rider, banner furling in the wind, could be seen silhouetted against the setting sun. The rider reared his mount and trotted off in the opposite direction, never again to return to the field.
Originally Posted by bomberboy
...is my daddy!
It springs from the idea, that we need humour to ridicule the Powerful and the Fearsome. We laugh, because we feel superior to things and people who otherwise would be superior to us. On a side note, I think it would have been cheekier without the last line.
