Tomarsen Family/Deathwyrm Tomarsen
Thoughts on the Principality of Zonasa, or A Life of Petrification
Deathwyrm was bored.
Stupidly bored. Idiotically bored. Count-the-rat-feces-behind-the-sofa bored.
He couldn't image why this realm even existed anymore. Probably because no one had bothered to march south and destroy them yet. Not that they would notice that they had been destroyed, for the first few days.
Probably when they rang for their butlers, and noticed he had been stabbed through the abdomen, and the estate had been burned down, and their wives had been carried off, would they realize that their was something more to being a noble than sleeping for weeks on end and rallying.
No, probably not.
"Hamlyn, what's the word for an individual mouse dropping?" Deathwyrm asked his captain.
"M'lord?"
"You know...mouse droppings. There are 317 of them behind the sofa. I just counted them."
"I'll tell the steward to get a cat, m'lord."
"Not really the point," Deathwyrm sighed.
"Whatsa matter, Frotsu?" the guardsman asked from his bed.
"Damned kids," Frotsu answered, laying his spear against the wall of the bunkhouse. "Saw a bunch of them lying under a tree just now, pretending to take a nap. So I says to them, 'Hey! Watcha up to?'"
"Yeah?" Creptoff asked.
"So the littlest one, he looks up and says 'Shhh! We're playing Zonasa Soldiers'."
"That's not funny at all," Creptoff complained sourly, sitting up sharply.
"Forty-seven."
"M'lord?"
"Acorns," Deathwyrm said. "Forty-seven acorns."
His captain looked at him blankly.
"If you draw an imaginary line from the base of this tree to that small group of dandelions, then over to that rock, and back, forty-seven acorns have fallen into the space it makes since sunrise this morning."
"Acorns, m'lord?"
"It's the squirrels. They shimmy about on the branches, and it shakes them loose," Deathwyrm explained.
"I'll instruct the steward to bring the cat, m'lord."
"Not really the point," Deathwyrm mumbled.
"A sling, m'lord?"
"Yes, a sling. They use them to hunt birds in the woods near Talex," Deathwyrm answered. "You see, you hold it like this, and put the stone in here, whirl it around, and..."
The stone flew across the square and smashed into a signpost.
"Well shot, m'lord!"
"Thank you. It's good fun - you can shoot it at birds, or signs, or peasants, or cattle...anything at all!" Deathwyrm explained gleefully. "I know! Let's hunt advies!"
Deathwyrm calmly replaced his sword in its scabbard. Nearby, the General was being attended to by her second.
"You gave her the advantage," whispered Captain Hamlyn. "Why? You might have run her through and ended this whole farce."
"To what ends?" Deathwyrm asked.
"To gain a great reward from His Majesty, I should think!" exclaimed Hamlyn. "She might have even lost her title to Razrpot."
Deathwyrm remained stoic. "His Majesty does not reward such service," he stated flatly.
Hamlyn looked stunned. "He refused a reward for removing Nina from her title and position? But that's idi-"
"His Majesty is King." Deathwyrm's stern glance cut him short. "He may choose whatever path he wishes, be it intelligent or otherwise."
