Enjoy the ride. We can do nothing else.

[s110wl]

Becoming a parody of himself; true genius I'd say

[Semedo's ferret]

I await the next chapter. Great stuff

[Lord Snooty]

I think one astaneer type poster is motr than enough tbh

True perhaps,

However, in the great mans absence ...

 

"Come young scout, take the weight off your feet. What news?"

"None.  There was to be a recruitment drive, but so far non have signed barring a couple of foreigners from the flat lands"

."Foreigners? Are they to be trusted?"

"Sir Glen of Loovens is from the flat lands"

"True, but he has spent much of his life living amongst the Celts, that toughens the will of any man"

"True. True"

"The natives?"

"Well, they were appeased after the announcement of The Portuguese.  But the shadow of Pearson still looms large. As it does with all the great ex servicemen. Speaking of which..."

"Go on."

"There are whispers. Oh,  I don't know..."

"Go on."

"They seem farfetched, and cannot be confirmed from my usual sources"

"These whispers?"

"In a few of the other taverns they are talking. A traveller from the West  claims to have seen strange things. "

"Where?"

"In Greno Woods."

"What things?"

"There is talk of a strange cult, of midnight gatherings. It all seems too much, you know what long journeys can do to a man's senses. It is probably nonsense.  They say they gather by the moon,  are using witchcraft to bring back the Ginger one. But that is just fairy tales"

"I wouldn't be so sure"

"How so?"

"I heard from Meg in the Village that he is rising. Returned from the Garden of the dead."

"Meg? She's old and mad, she dances in the coach station"

"Old maybe, mad perhaps, but she knows this town, she knows about the occult happenings."

"But Megso.."

"Shush! Don't mention his name."

"But it's nonsense, rumour"

"I've have told you not of this before boy but perhaps now you are of an age...

Long ago it was said that there is a place,  deep in Greno Woods,   a place where no man would tread.  Not even Sir Mick of Lyon in the rise of Sergeant Wilkinsons Great Army would go to that deep in the wood . But one day during training he who shall not be named was lost from the pack.

They thought he was just late back, but days later he had still not returned. Weeks passed, they feared him dead. And then when all hope was but lost, he trotted into Middlewood, with a look in his eye. A glint.  The other men noticed a change. They didn't want to joust with him even in training. Sergeant Wilkinson sent him away deep into Sherwood hoping he might be cured by the Great Sorcerer Clough."

"Did it work?"

"No. Even Clough with all his powers daren't tackle him and he was shackled in the Dungeons of Nottingham Castle until they could banish him to the Dark side of the Pennines."

"But he came back to Hillsborough"

"Indeed he did. It was the real reason Wilkinson left.  Fear, once he new he who shall not be named had crawled from Manchester he knew that his old protege was coming for him. It made the Sergeant  Fear for his own life"

"But, he's he's dead now. Madaric killed him, this talk...it makes no sense."

"As I said, deep into Greno woods far beyond where men will go, that dark place still lies. Though Lord Madaric broke his heart , after the sacking it is said his broken soul and limp bones crawled back into Greno Woods. Right into the darkest heart.

  There he sleeps. Each day growing stronger. Maybe not today,  maybe not tomorrow. But the Ginger one will return.  You keep your ear to the ground young scout. And don't rubbish tales of the cult for they exist and they feed him"