Earl Lord of Sheriff of Ardsmuir - a new Lord of the Land

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Earl Lord of Sheriff of Ardsmuir - a new Lord of the Land

Postby Jiriki » Thu Jul 25, 2013 2:47 am

"Not so high and mighty and cocky now, are you?" The short thin lipped man sneered at his prisoner who knelt at his feet. Still that cocky grin was on his face, something the thin lipped man found infuriating as he gestured with his black leather gloved hand and spoke again. One of his guards stepped forwards and held out the shears for the short grey balding man who scowled heavily then cuffed the guard round the back of his head with the hilt of his dagger.

"Not me you dunderhead!" The short man snapped and jabbed his jeweled ring bound finger at the kneeling man. "Him! Cut his tongue out of his head for his insolence!"

Then he grinned wickedly, his hands rubbing together over and over in anticipation of the man screaming a gold tooth glinting in his mouth. "I Lord Earl, self proclaimed Sheriff of Ardsmuir, do here by, blah blah blah.." He waved his hand boredly. "So on and so forth... cut out his tongue or you're next!" He snapped at the guard who stepped up with the shears to do the job. The man on the ground writhed and began to struggle as he realised that this man was serious, then tongs were used roughly in his mouth to pull his tongue out and the sharp agony of his tongue being plucked and cut were left.

The self proclaimed Sheriff of Ardsmuir smirked and kicked sharply at the man now on the ground, gagging on his own blood and screaming piteously. "HAH! That be a lesson to anyone that dares to speak against ME!"

(This land is fictional, it's flavour, but keep watching. Things are a foot.)
Another day: "What we need to do my dear Tuon." The sneering man grins from behind his pile of gold coins as he counts them. "Is actually stamp down on those that think they are our betters." he steeples his fingers with a calculating look on his face. "I want to have my coffers so awash with gold that the whole place is full of bodies or full of gold!" The creature masked in it's back spiky armour nods silently, then turns to walk away.

"So that means... " The man's voice changes with a tone of irritation. "Up the taxes, I don't care what they have to sell to pay for it, their daughters, their animals, their crops and their roofs! I want that gold!" The last is an exasperated shout. "Hang some more of them til they get the message. In fact no.. " He moves around the table to be stood face to chest with the black monstrosity. "I want them skinned publicly, then hanged, then bring them back and send them into the fields to work as slave zombies as a message to anyone that tries to disagree with me. This is my land now. I'll not suffer to see anyone stupid stand against me."

He heads off out of the room with heavy feet and his shoulders hunched as if under the cloud of perpetual hate and misery, his eyes gleaming wickedly.

Later that day.

"You owe two coins, you're late." the man on the black fearsome beast growls out through his armor, then commands the shock troops with him. "Take him with us and we'll have his children while we're at it."

The man cries out in fear and stumbles along his way as the guards roughly shove him towards the wagon.

"My lord, weapons." one of the guards calls from a stack of barrels near another house next to the smithy and brandishes a small bow.

"Please, don't hurt him he's just a boy?!" The older smith calls out trying to defend the bellows boy. "he's innocent!" But it's too late the man is in the wagon and so's his apprentice. When the man tries to stand up for the boy again, he's hit over the back of the head with the stock end of the whip. The wagon rolls on with four prisoners, on to the next village while the coffers get filled slowly but surely.

Anyone gambling without a license is taken away with the profits of those playing, anyone trying to sell anything in the markets without a license, goods are seized and their gold as well. Anyone thought to be a vagrant is lifted from the streets and anyone attempting to stand up for them is taken too. The man with the spiky armor just keeps silent for the most part, except when he's throwing orders about in that growl.

Later that night

"We found this bow in the village, the man who made it has been rather good at his craft." The man in armor speaks to his sheriff in the main hall.

"Our troops could benefit from this, we should learn his secrets and force him to make them for us." The sheriff replies.

"Learn?" Comes the surprised response. "Learn, we should execute him!" it's said dripping with disdain.

"is that a note of sourness in your tone Tuon... hmm?" The sheriff speaks while studying the craftsmanship of the bow before him. "I presume your life as local lord of this land is losing it's meaning for you, hmm?" The creature in armor growls softly as he grinds his teeth in exasperation. "Bored with only picking on serfs, aww what a shame." The sheriff continues to goad his creature as he looks at him with that cruel sneer.

"No Lord Sheriff, I meant is that we should punish him. We must make an example of him, we must make an event of it." His eyes glint with dark malevolence. And the sheriff suddenly comes to life as well.

"An event, why not! A festival of pain! Ooh oh! Invite all the local village leaders to it, put on a big show with lots of food." The sheriff grins excitedly, as if the mere thought of it. "We should be very creative with it, mutilation ofcourse, torture and a good lashing. What an idea!!" His eyes widen as if he can see and smell the blood on the stones of his main hall. The creature across the table from him smirks behind his mask.
Another time: "You my friends are not in the position to really make any demands now are you?" The sheriff with his sarcasm enjoyed this moment all to much. That moment when it was all going well, when it was all going according to plan. He had them, those outlaws that were pilfering form his wagons of taxes through the forests.

"Today is a good day to die!" Came the terse reply from the bandit leader. A reply that only made the sheriff laugh even more.

"Tell you what... No, bored now... Kill them all!" He waved his hand and the men behind the horses stepped forwards with their composite bows, arrows began to rain down on the outlaws, killing some as they stood, injuring others. The sheriff rubbed his hands in glee, cackling with bliss. Then had to promptly duck to avoid being skewed by one of the arrows that were fired back. "My tooth!" he exclaimed clutching at his mouth in shocked anger, then screamed out in a loud almost hysterical voice. "KILL THEM ALL NOW! I want them.. I want their bodies. Hack them open but don't cut anything off!"
Another day: The sheriff coughed in revulsion at the smoke from the forge fire and grimaced, waving his black gloved and jewelled hand across his face to disperse it. “Let’s see it then, the ‘magic’ metal.” He smirked as if expecting to be disappointed, and anticipating pulling this man’s finger nails out slowly one by one for lying to him.

The smith led them deeper into his forge. The tall spikey armoured man growling softly in the depths of his helmet and making the smith step back a little more in fear. The short balding man – the sheriff - hands his gloves after removing them to the man in armor, then runs his fingers over the metal breastplate as it’s handed to him. Then hands it to Tuon, the black armored brute.

“This it? Bit thin…” His lip curls in disdain and he looks briefly incredulous at the smith when he replies with “Well yes, but that is it’s beauty.” The sheriff blinks the smoke from his eyes again.

“With this on, a soldier can dance in battle.” The smith explains, defending his work to the black robed figure that stood easily a foot shorter than he.

“Yes, yes, how does it work?” The short man speaks lower in irritation then grins conspiratorially.

“That is my secret and I am the only man that knows of it.” The smith assures him causing the smile to falter on the Sheriff and evil glint in his eyes again.

“Well lah dee dah dee dah..” The sheriff interrupts and and rakes a dagger across the breastplate in his henchman's hands, then turns to examine it at once gasping and clutching his hand in shock and pain. His fingers opening and closing, from behind his mask, Tuon smirks but says nothing.

“Oh ye of little faith.” The smith replies with a sigh of mock sympathy. “I will show you a little of my art.” He turns away and the sheriff steals a moment to look at the metal where he’d tried to damage it and and grunts.

“Stinks like a tarts trousers.” The sheriff grunts as he moves to follow the smith.

“Here, my special ingredient.” The smith speaks again. “This to me is more precious than diamonds.”

“I hope so, it’s more expensive than diamonds.” Comes the reply as he watches the smith do his work, he grinds something into a powder and casts it onto the coals before him sending up huge bursts of smoke that steals the air from the Sheriff’s lungs, making him cough and wheeze.

“Don’t cough! Inhale! Enjoy!” The smith speaks in alarm.

The sheriff manages to wheeze further. "Enjoy?" He coughs and chokes more, while Tuon speaks calmly as if not bothered by it. “Water for the sheriff.” His tone implies boredom, then he turns and watches as the sheriff puts in the order for five thousand chestplates.

As they walk off the sheriff grins nastily and notices the huddled group of prisoners his underling had captured and grins further. “Tuon!” He holds his index finger up reproachfully with a sarcastic sneer. “Have you gone and started a family without telling me?”

He walks off to the cluster of coughing dirty brats and proclaims. “Children.” Then looks at Tuon meaningfully and in disapproval.

“I caught them snooping in the woods.” The beast growls.

“So, they didn’t see you testing the armor?” The sheriff asks eyeing the little creatures then glancing at his cohort again. Then his eyes go back to the children, a couple no older than six or seven. And grins nastily as he asks, already knowing the answer. “Why didn’t you just kill them Tuon?” Then he crouches and glares at the three tied up boys.

“I thought we could use them in the mines.” Comes the response and the sheriff turns to shout at his man.

“Just when I thought I could let you out to flap your little wings you go and show compassion! When there are people that know our secrets, they need to die!” He snatches his gloves from the man and storms off. “Put them in with the prey pack. We’ll have some sport after all, no more foxes for me! I do hope they can run fast.” He mounts his horse and begins to laugh menacingly. “I do so love a good hunt.”

Another day: The bald man grinned with that one gold tooth glinting in the fire light from behind his desk. His eyes bright with mischief and menace. “And if you leave your village… “ He made his tone all light and airy, and excited, full of sarcastic delight as if describing a new toy. “I’ll make the hand come to life, and it’ll come and find you. And your family, and it’ll come strangle you all, one…” he walked his fingers across the desk towards the eight year old terror struck child. “by… one!” He grinned even more and chucked the boy under the chin, who didn’t even flinch, he was so white and terror stricken, his eyes wide horror and full tears that he dare not shed.

“Now we’re having fun! TU-ON!!” He bellowed and the boy almost squeaked, then the sound of the pat pat pat of urine on the floor as it falls. The sheriff turned to the boy, then stood and leaned over the desk then smiled nastily. “Someone get him a bucket and mop.” The next is to the boy himself. “I suggest you get and clean that up. Filthy brat.”

And another: Within the dark confines of the castle that broods, the Sheriff sat waiting his fingers drumming in irritation on the wood as he watched the door open with evil glinting in his eyes. A muscle in his cheek twitched and he pressed his hand to it to stop it then sat up more when the tax man came in. Two soldiers joining him holding a chest between them that they placed on the table with a heavy clunk and a promise of metal inside. The sheriff grinned, the gap in his upper jaw revealing that tooth still missing. As if suddenly aware of it, the man reached for the skull before him on the desk and pulled the missing tooth from its jaw, then inserted it in his own. He chomped on it experimentally once or twice. “There, that’s better.” He proclaimed and laced his fingers together on the desk. Leaning forward like an expectant professor awaiting good news, his eyes firmly fixed on the box. “Well?” He spoke again impatiently. His eyes blinking and still fixed on the box until he glanced at the man that stood before him as well, taking in the grim visage of the black armored creature before him, then to the tax man.

“It has been a good month. We've collected nearly 300 gold.” Spoke the taxman solemnly.

The Sheriff clearly wasn’t impressed by this, his tone mocking as he replied. “Would you want to be the King in Antioch - a clue: no - trying to feed a starving army on 300, when you promised 500 gold?”

“It's more than we ever managed before.” Tried the taxman, wanting to take a step back but a quick glance behind him told him that the man in armor was there as well and not to bother trying.

“Oh, yippee! So my army is starving and you have failed me, but ‘It's more than we ever managed before!” The sheriff’s tone was first mockingly sarcastic, then it was whining as it mocked the taxman before him. “Take this…… creature…… away.“ He gestured with his hand dismissively. “Take his gold, take his land, his home and put his brats in the mine, his wife can go serve the soldiers. We will have that 500. “ The sheriff nods his assurances.

The taxman lunged to try to attack him with outstretched fingers, but didn’t get very far, the hand closing down on the back of his neck made him stop and a short moment after that, the world went black.
And another: The flags fluttered stiffly in the breeze, then drooped again. The guards looking up at them frowned then breathed out again as they saw the flag resume it’s moving on the pole. Before long, the screams renewed from the open grate at their feet. “They never gonna shut up?” The first one complained to the other. His companion nudged him and nodded his head further down the path. “Quiet, lest yon sheriff do hear. I hear as how he pulls teeth from the dead to fill his mouth. That none a his teeth are his nay more.” He shivered and the first speaker shivered as well.

“Taking his time bout torturing them prisoners an all.” The second grumped. “I heard as how he was goin to feed their toes and hands to dogs in the pit. Then make em grow back.” The second continued as if not a care in the world, the shiver this time from his friend on duty was bigger, a real involuntary shudder of revulsion. The second guard grins nastily as the first guard turns his back and chuckles silently to himself. The best way to find out how your guards felt about you, was to slip in unseen and let them talk.


The sheriff kept his cloth mask over his face and was cautious not to get to close as he inspected the after effects of his concoction on the guard he’d shared the wall with not too long ago, the guard that had nudged him and warned him not to say anything. He grinned wickedly at the prone man, now sweating profusely and shivering with the ague that consumed him. “Not so clever are you now eh? Still at least that screamin… oh no..” He holds his hand up again for a moment of silence. The man on the bed’s eyes widened again and he let out a low horrible groan of someone dying in agony. “there it goes again.” The sheriff waved his invisible baton in the air like a conductor, playing the tunes of the dying man’s cries and humming under his breath.
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Re: Earl Lord of Sheriff of Ardsmuir - a new Lord of the Lan

Postby Jiriki » Sat Aug 03, 2013 4:46 am

The rain on the small jaol sounded like a thousand drums hammering down on the drunks head. It didn’t help his composure nor did it help his state of mind. He got to his feet shakily as another sound caught to his ear, a strange grinding sound. He paced his way cautiously to the door where he would be able to view better, where with the glass on the other side of the bars it would allow him some view. Then, for all his shock and to his horror, he barely caught a glimpse of the narrow wheel that suddenly loomed out of the dark. He threw himself backwards to the wall with a cry of alarm, his hands coming up to defend his face. Then the door was split by the venom of the wheel, for a second he thought here was freedom, freedom from the hole he’d been left in to rot, but then the wagon spar burst through as well and continued to slide forwards toward him as well! He cried out again shutting his eyes quickly unable to watch his looming death. But it didn’t come, the viewer would live, yet..

Then there was sounds a new, shouting and screams for help, he cautiously crept forward to see again, but was shocked to see two men climbing up above the on its side wagon, they were rifling through the man that had half crawled out of the wagon to try to escape before being cut down by the highwaymen.

Then there were other sounds he could hear, more horses were coming, and pistols were being shot, a fair noise to one so unused to it. Then the two highwaymen were shouting out, one he could see swallowed a ruby as big as a childs fist, the other giving cover and calling for them to make away. But that wasn’t coming. The one that swallowed the ruby was shot before his eyes, the ball from the pistol hitting his stomach and making him cry out in a way that made it clear he wasn’t leaving any time soon. The other, moved to try to comfort him at first, or so the viewer thought, then belligerently began to ask after the ruby, and was alarmed to hear of the news that it was swallowed. But he had no more time, the sheriff’s men were upon him and he slunk away into shadow before he was seen.

The black boot that the viewer could see was well turned out, it was shiny, it was big as well, the leather armor of the man wearing it spattered with mud and blood, he stepped forwards and the viewer dared hardly to move or to breath. He could hear the silence louder than anything else, louder in fact than the soft cries of the dying man he approached. “Sheriff, the other made off.” Came a low growled out sound. The viewer’s breath barely rose from his lips in fear at that sound. The other man paused, then his boots turned to face the downed man and he disdainfully spat out near his head. “Name?” he asked casually, master to servant.

“Di… Dismal.” Came the small reply through blood stained lips and an awful cough that sent more blood to his mouth.

“Hung him last ride. Give another.” The tone broached no argument, yet again he paced and then spat. Then without giving the boy a chance to reply, the viewer watched in horror as he crouched low, his beard short and giving the look of a feral and violent badger. His hand fumbled in the fallen clothing, then the boy cried out again in agony, writhing as he tried to get away from the sheriff and his fingers. The gasps of the dying made it hard for him to speak though, and the pain from the ball being probed for took his breath away. The viewer all but bit on his hand to prevent his crying out as well. Then to his utmost horror, to his awful terror, he saw the Sheriff sit up just a little, then suddenly he thrust his thumb into the boys eye. The struggling and screams of agony only ending when there was an unforgettable popping sound and the boys face ran red with eye fluid and blood.
The viewer didn’t dare to move, only breath til two days later.
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Re: Earl Lord of Sheriff of Ardsmuir - a new Lord of the Lan

Postby Jiriki » Thu Nov 28, 2013 2:16 pm

“Did I tell you or did I not tell you that I expected his carcass in my dungeons dead or alive before today?” The badger bearded semi bald man snarled, his gold tooth glinting in the firelight as his beady black eyes bore into the guard before him. The guard turned his face away, he couldn’t do more, the manacles held him against the rack in the dungeon and he wished he could keep from shivering against the fear that threatened to consume him.

“Yes lord.” He answered a trifle too calmly for his own liking, as if already, part of his mind had determined his fate as it would come.

“Yes lord, YES lord!” The badger bearded man turned with his hands thrown into the air in exasperation. “Yes lord! Well lah dee dah!” On the last syllable, he turned back picking up a hot poker as he did so and examined the weight and the heat that came from the coals it’d been resting in. Then advanced closer to the definitely shivering guardsman, who’s eyes widened as best they could between the bruised and swollen lids on his face. He could feel the heat now, and he knew what would come next. That pain, that awful pain that wouldn’t end. His skin sizzled as the sheriff ran it slowly down his ribs and couldn’t help but scream in agony at the sensation. The sheriff grinned a grin of full malice as he turned to the newly appointed head of the guard and his eyes twinkled playfully in the light from the coals.

“You’re not going to fail me as well, are you?” He demanded meaningfully.. the guardsman shook his head quickly eyeing the still glowing end of the poker in his hand then shook his head all the more. “No, Lord.” He quickly assumed the posture of going onto one knee with his head bowed and the cruel man standing grinned even more in delight, turning to the only other figure in the room. The one that stepped now from the shadows. His armor black and absorbing the light. “See?” The figure remained silent, the guard kneeling didn’t look up, and the guard hanging nearly sobbed at the lack of attention, mingled with the fear of his fate.

The guard on his knee got to his feet at the command given to go finish his task, and the screams of his former boss followed him until at the last he was nearly running to get away from the sound.
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