Alar the Madman returns..

Like an icy blow the news hit the small village still having the mark of Madman last deeds: orphans on the streets asking for their parents, parents cursing the Madman name, widows, destruction and poverty.

That's the traces of the orthodox Russian Madman moving his nation all over the Europe. He didn't fought a single battle against a real army without running away. He was good only in butchering innocent people and take the heads of the envoys, such atrocities the worst barbarians won't do.

Save the children, the Madman returns..

The cry out loud almost cover the bells of the local church, not stopping to announce the unfortunate event.
Even the tavern close the doors, such thing never happen.

All the people are gathered to the church and rise their prays to the God Almighty:
"Please Lord, save us from the Madman.."

The Madman returns, Beelzebub himself bringing the doom in the Apocalypse days. The Four Horsemen follow him closely.

Fernando Alonso Charles Philip Rooney use to live in the highest shack of the village. Well, it was another higher, but one night a fire start it from nothing and burn in to the ground. He consider himself the chief of the village because of that.
Rooney's parents was simple fishermen, but since fishing it's a noble occupation in his opinion, he concluded that he is a sort of nobleman.
A plan to legitimize his status arise in Rooney's mind.

Obviously the village don't have a herald or see one, so Mr. Rooney had to make the announcement himself. Most of the people's village are gathered in the small plaza at this hour of the day.

Taking a deep breath, Rooney start yelling:

Hear this..! Hear this..!

From today our village and the sea surroundings will be called Despotato.

More than that, you will address to myself Fernando Alonso Charles Philip Rooney as Despoto Rooney.

- Hey, Rooney! says a voice in the first row.

In a second Rooney jump near the poor fella who did not pay enough attention. The first who violate his rules gets an arm and two ribs broken.

Despoto Rooney, get it? says Despoto with a red face due the effort.

In addition, Two Tales tavern, the place where you use to gossip and spread lies about myself, your Despoto will be demolished.

During recent invasions, the villagers was killed, beaten, robbed, left without homes, but the tavern is still there for them to get something to eat or drink and have a little chat. That was too much already.
The furious mob beat Rooney to death while his family decide it's wiser to gather their belongings and move into another village.
The historians unanimously deplore the tribal attitude of the villagers in opposing the progress and are sure one day the things will be different.

In the corner of the tavern, the village idiot was singing to himself:

"One Potato, Two Potato, Three Potato, Four!

Five Potato, Six Potato, Seven Potato, More!"

The tavern is quiet now, everybody including the innkeeper are out to see the Italian merchant, the first foreign trader arriving after long years of war. They barely have what to eat after the invaders burn down everything, bug soup and fried rats become a luxury these days, but the curiosity proves stronger even than an empty stomach.

They show like a bunch of beggars, but even so an advised eye can notice the English pride on their faces all the swords in the world cannot take it.

The merchant, obviously a prosperous one, make the announcement again:

- Signori e Signorite, come to Paolo.
Have a look to my exceptional wares, crystal glasses from Venezia, fabric from Florence, olive and oranges from Sicily, tools and swords from Milan, relics protecting you against any harm, there is everything you may wish.

- Why not go to sell your stuff to the rich nations? says a crippled man, drinking something who appears like a fermented roots and mushrooms alcohol. They are bloody rich after they took every penny we saved.

- Noble Signore, better earn a few coins and help Christian brothers than have their money spotted with blood. Beside of that, they don't respect anything, they defy even the God Almighty, why they should respect a humble trader like myself instead plundering my wares? Did they not plunder the whole England, a Christian country with the fear of God?

Approving rumors come from the crowd, the Italian seems to have a silver tongue, like all the Italians by the way.

- Mister Paolo, it happen that you pass by Ravenna? Rumors about a conclave there voting a pope called Urban III reach us! ask a woman who barely manage to cover her with the shabby clothes.

- Yes, Signora, it happen that I was eye witness of the events. A few clerics in the way to Rome, all of them claiming to be Bishops or Patriarchs drink like pigs at the local inn when one come with the idea to vote a pope. It was merely a joke, how on earth a pope could be rightfully elected other than in an Ecumenical Conclave called by the Holy Church in Rome?They wasn't all of them Catholic by the way.

While being in a room, mocking of pope election, one lock them inside, throw in by the window a poor fella who wasn't able to stand on his feet and leave to bed.
Next day they broke the door and claim they elected a pope, to not pay the damages.
The innkeeper chase the troublemakers away with a stick. Some of them should still have the marks on the back, the innkeeper was absolutely furious because of the damages. He says not even the Pechenegs produce such mess.

Homeless and hungry, the poor people forgot a moment about all miseries and almost suffocate of laughing.
The elections of the pope was the best joke they heard for ages.

Hear now and listen to this tale I am telling to you just as I heard it. Every word of it is true, for it was told to me by none other than the cousin of the friend of the wife of the valet of Sir Pelinor himself.

On the fifth day of his quest the brave questing knight Sir Pelinor was caught in an unseasonable snowstorm and was forced to seek refuge in a humble barn. After drying off and wrapping himself in a blanket, he went to sleep on a pile of hay.

The next day the snow had melted and the sun was shining brightly. Sir Pelinor set off in good spirits. But ere he had reached the next hill, he begun to squirm in discomfort. He twitched, looked first startled and then embarrassed. He turned around and went back to the barn, unbuckled his armour, took off his helmet, gauntlets and haubergeon - and lured out 4 recently hatched chicklings, who had nestled into the warmth of the padding of his breastplate.

This was not an auspicious start to Sir Pelinor's quest. But he was not the first man to fall afoul of - chicks in chainmail.

The tavern is full again like in the good old days of Argorian de Wolfe great king reign.

QUOTE:
.. The Lord Chancellor fast and pray
That the Lord show him the way

The people sing and cheerfully join their drinks, full of hopes:

Did you know he give his personal belongings to the poor and live like a saint?

I hear that he share his bread with those hungry

He is in our prays every day!

(a woman)
He looks so nice in his armor with the red cross over the chest and on the shield. Oh, James..

(a person who just enter)
Are you talking about our savior?

I'll name my son James, if it happen to have any

(a nobleman)
Let's hope the nasty figures won't assassinate him to stop his way to the papal chair

Do you remember his father? He was also a saint.

James name is on everybody's lips today and the people put all the hopes in him.

The old soldier enter the tavern and take a seat in the middle:

I tell ya, if you didn't see English army marching to battle, you saw nothing.. we had one hell of battle in Utrecht!

Did you was there? ask a woman almost touching him to convince.

He nodded in approval. An English soldier would never lie about that. Yes, he was there, watching the provisions cart.
The woman run to the bar and bring something to drink to the soldier.

So, tell us..

First are Scot and Irish swordsmen, they always go first.. brave, fearless, only death could stop them. Welsh archers cover the sun with a cloud of arrows. better watch out if you don't want to walk with one in the back or even worse, in the neck between the armor and the helmet.

The man have his drink and return the empty tankard to the woman. He wait for the woman to come with another drink.

Then come English knights.. I'll tell ya, maybe French knights are more fancy or have better horses, but nothing compare with English knights before charging, so determined..
"St. George" or "God save the Queen" from thousands of chests could make such an impression that you could piss in your pants.

The woman have a sneaky look at the soldier's pants, but he noticed:

Not me, of course..the enemy.. I saw it many times and still impress me..
They get through enemy lines like butter, nothin could stop them.The battle was long and tiresome.

He stops again for another drink.

And.. did we win? ask the woman, impatiently.

Of course we win, aren't we always? A glorious battle in England history like many others..

In fact he could not say for sure. It was a cloud of dust coming from the battlefield that could not say for sure if it's friend or foe. The soldier thought it is wiser to put some distance in the beginning, more and more distance after that, before being caught by the enemy or by his own as deserter.

The bells did not stop for a second. Saxon and Italian invasion gathered all the people in the church.

What we will do without our hero? Saxon dogs will kill us all! says a woman, keeping the children next to her.

Bloody Saxons.. they start killing us now. My husband and elder son fall at the Polish border, defending their lands.. Pigs, that's what they are.. pigs. says another in black.

A merchant who seems to be well informed continue the story:
That evil Jessica vom Grefenstein lie to him that she wants only to talk and expects him at the castle. When James arrive, she command the guards to take him down. A friend of mine says that more than 50 guards was need it to kill him. They practically tear him apart. His head was put in a spike and show to the people. How horrible!

A young woman start to cry:
James, our savior, where are you? Who will defend us now?

The priest come and comfort her:
Don't worry my dear, I'm sure he will come from the skies like an angel to protect us. He was a saint.

A man with german accent from Lothringen or Pfalz was about to join:
Sachsen Schweine, Ich..
but when he realize his accent, suddenly become busy.

The priest realize the embarrassing moment and call the people to pray. There are good people and bad people everywhere, no matter of nation.