Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Face Gets Red After Eating Lunch

The Chronicles of Crises and the Void

Pirs

The Cloister Andrea delle Frate was ready for the match. Long wooden tables beautifully laid with every gift of God warm bread prepared in all the various recipes of beautiful country. The scent mingled with that of green olives, black olives, raisins, cheese and fresh, all dominated by the strong scent of wild game and meats. At the corners of the cloister court chefs were preparing the coals for grilling pork shanks, chicken breasts and vegetables. Crates of red wine and beer had been strategically placed every eight seats.

"We, is the decisive moment, we can not fail. "

Pirs, First Knight of Fratte, talking to himself looking at the great gate 's entry, which soon would be opened to let the guests. The lord of all the most major allied families had accepted the invitation. His men first: Dar Littlefrank, Maximilian Huntingari, Rosy Bindi. For the current internal conflict Walter Fleece, Knight of the former prime Fratte. Belpaese For values \u200b\u200bof the warrior Antoine Madeofstone. And then, the new energy. So vital and dangerous Nick Sellola of elevated for Freedom . Pirs was with him that would be convincing if he wanted was to leave behind reputation as the eternal loser. In addition to their expected for lunch a large following of ladies, knights and squires. Eighty guests in total.

A skinny guy, from the fiery red hair, walked gingerly to Pirs.

"Sorry to bother you, ser. What do I do, Sir?" I open, Sir? "

Pirs stroked his linen shirt staring at the door. Then he made a grimace of approval to the good-natured boy.

"Yes."

When the boy began to open quickly enter items that until then had been isolated from 'huge oak door, seven-meter high, three wide and seventy centimeters thick. At the center, at one time, was carved an oak, an old family crest. Thereafter, the coat of arms was carved a second time to turn the oak in olive, but the old symbol is only black lines in the wood. The past was erased with a few strokes of the chisel.

"Pirs, you finally decided to organize. We need this. It is no coincidence that now we can sink the knife in the folds, and look gift horse in the mouth."

Madeofstone had entered first. The muscular arms the warrior who had been told. The rest, over the years, had lost tone and vigor. Pirs winked and then shook hands without saying anything, to review other invitati. Passarono tutti, accolti con una stretta di mano o una pacca sulle spalle, ma senza dire niente. Tutti eccetto uno, l'uomo che chiudeva la fila. Nick Sellola.

"Sono contento di essere qui."
"E io contento di averti nelle nostre fila."

Pirs mentì. Nick rispose con la verità.

"Ancora non ci sono."


Le Cronache della Crisi e del Vuoto  nascono dall'insana commistione di due mie fisse del momento -  Le Cronache del Ghiaccio e del Fuoco  di George R.R. Martin e l'Italia. Sono previsti un numero imprecisato di Capitoli che non avranno una cadenza periodica.

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