the reviles of porglitag the saber, part 1

Here's something I wrote. It's entitled "the Reviles of Porglitag the Saber, part 1"

Counting the masses of silver coins on his desk was Porglitag the pigman highbringer, chief taxer to Derblesplish the lordcutter, a local minor lord. His office was a strewn mess of broken pottery and statuettes of jasper maidens exposing their orifaces. With a gleeful chortle he jangled his piles.

"Yee hee! Income is up 6% from last quarter! Before long I'll be able to purchase my own minor duchy from king Skirplupigan!"

There was a pounding at the door and a small putrid man wearing rusty chainmail entered, sweating profusely.

"Lord Porglitag! An army of bandits approach the castle!"

"Wonderful," said Porglitag "I'll be there in a moment!"

He chose his favorite plush pineapple hat and a crystal wand from a door before sauntering down the hall. It was a beautiful fall day and a crisp wind filtered in through the ports which faced the court. As he passed by one he caught a glimps of a sea of golden grass stretching out for miles to the far plump mountains. The sky was gray.

He crawled up a flight of spiral stairs before arriving on top of the rampart. Below was about a hundred and fifty men in black carrying spears and small wooden shields, arranged in two haphazard factions. Heading the group were three men riding small mottled brown horses. They came to a halt fifty yards from the outer wall.

The larger of the three men raised his arm in salute. His hair flowed in a firey coif around his neck and shoulders. He wore a bright red cape and purple steel cuirass which once had been in the latest fashions. Even from this distance Porglitag could see dents and spots of rust the bearer had failed to burnish out. The son of a knight on the descent into peasanthood.

"Highbringer Porglitag!" called the man "I am Shertrabe son of Guxlitux, son of Shertribux, heir to the hall of Lyllgyllyhylla. I come to to demand the release of"

Porglitag raised the crystal wand in his hand, Shertrabe son of Guxlitux burst into flames and fell screaming from his horse. Without a sound archers from up and down the ramparts presented themselves and released a volley upon the unsuspecting bandits, who turned and began to run. A full third of the men fell and were crushed underfoot by their retreating brothers.

The two remaining horsemen gathered their reigns and circled back around, swords drawn, corralling the deserting spearfolk and forcing them back towards the fort. The archers prepared to launch another volley. The spearfolk gathered back into their formations and bristled into a phalanx, shields raised.

The guardcaptain gave his order and the archers launched again. The bandit's were peppered, downing only the few who failed to raise their shields high enough. They marched forth, the riders on each side of the formation, swords drawn, shouting commands and encouragement.

Porglitug made a sign to the guardcaptain and a porticullus at the front of the fort was raised. Seven yellow chargers wielding heavy lances streamed forth. In a calamitous moment there was a crash of horse and spear against bone and the chargers cut through the phalanx like a bolt of lightning. They cast down their ruined lances as they passed through and drew long boar-headed maces. The archers readied to launch again.

Within twenty minutes the bandits were all dead, except for one. One of the riders who came with Shertrabe had been captured by the chargers and carried back. The other was smashed to death by three of the charger's maces in an instant, and his ruined body was carried into the woods by his horse. The prisoners was strawhaired boy, perhaps sixteen, barely of age to carry a sword at all, much less take part in a rebellion. Porglitag had him beaten and chained in the dungeon.

Moments later the butler arrived, announcing the gathering for supperfeast.

In a blur of lime green chiffonade Giffleblig of Butter, a visiting nobleman from the south, appeared at Porglitag's side as they made their way to the banquethall.

"Quite a wonderful display, Porgy! It is always a pleasure to visit you in fort Stamadingdong, what colorful wildlife inhabit the areas about. I should like to partake in a hunt during my stay!"

"Indeed," croaked Porglitag, as he pulled at the hairs on his chinny-chin-chin.