Recent content by Corvetius of Ruthgaard

When fear seized his senses, Corvetius resorted to one particular method. A method oft practised in his iron mirror before a public hearing, or exercised in his hot tub the day before a hanging. He spoke to himself. "Very well, Corvetius, a small setback, nothing major--" his eyes locked on a...

Corvetius' hand twitched for the hilt of his blade, but it wasn't forthcoming. "Lampfrey, where in the bloody blazes have you gone? Sword!" There was no sign of the man-at-arms. However, the shambling dead came steadily closer, red eyes honing in on Corvetius. Sweat trickled down his brow...

Events transpired at an unnatural speed. What Corvetius had mistaken foe the enraged and wordless protests of a leper, turned out to be something else entirely. An axe cleaved against the pot-helmet of the crossbowman. That helmet saved his life. With a harsh clang and skidding of metal...

In a sea of uncouth interruptions, one wave crested above the others. Corvetius' generous jowls quivered with indignation. He lowered his scroll an inch, spotting above its roll a black-robed figure, pale as death and gangly as a scarecrow, standing behind the peasants. Some vagrant...

Sir Corvetius stepped up on the improvised scaffold - an impounded cart - and unsheathed his scroll case. Scattered about him stood the finest of the finest of Lord Ruthgaard's men-at-arms, the cream of the crop, coifs and kettle-helmets glinting with rust in the sunlight, all cleanly shaven, as...