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The Butterfly Device - A Grand Campagin

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That


Was



Awesome.


:D


Sorry there were no updates yesterday...had a massive fire here, and I was covering it all day (I'm a military reporter, for those who haven't caught on.)

Anyhow, here we go!
 
We Only Know What We're Told...And For All We Know, It Isn't Even True​

Christmas Eve, 1079 - Northern France

Matilda had no one to play with.

It wasn't fair...everybody paid attention to stupid Osbern now. "Sire, this" and "Sire, that." Sire...he was just a dumb boy! Osbern didn't know a word of Latin, despite the fact that he was ten, and she had mastered the language last year, at the age of six. She doubted he even knew how to read. Yet everyone was vying for his attention.

It wasn't fair.

The worst of it was that her own father (promoted to marshal after Monsieur Quentis' was lost at sea) was ignoring her...on the Eve of Christmas! Even now, seated by the so-called-Count at the dinner table, he was trying to explain about the uprising in Jerusalem.

She doubted Osbern could even find Jerusalem on a map...of Jerusalem.

"Sire, the uprising continues to grow. Their numbers are in the hundreds now. If something does not happen soon, it is possible that the rebels will overrun our guards."

Osbern, who was desperate to look as though he was in control of the situation despite the fact that, religious feuds in the holy land aside, it was, frankly, well past his bedtime, simply nodded.

"The guards need new recruits. We must make a second cru..."

Marshal Robert cleared his throat, then began again.

"We must make a second crusade to Jerusalem, and put down this..."

He coughed. Took a sip of wine. Coughed again.

"Forgive me, Sire. I seem to have something lodged in my throat. As I was saying...we need to put down this rebellion. We believe it's led my two men. One...very..."

The Marshal was gasping for air. Adults began to gather around him, trying to find some way to help as Robert de Blount began to change colors. Matilda rushed to her father's side, but couldn't reach him through all of the legs.

"One...very...tall, Sire."

"Save your strength, Uncle. This can wait. Why don't you lie down for a bit?"

"I...I'll be fine. One...one is very...tall. And the other...the...the other is...reportedly...quite..."

The marshal took one last sip of wine.



And then Matilda's father was dead.
 
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Not only do you keep throwing cliffhangers, you also tip bucketloads of demises over us. Me like.
 
Excellent! I'm guessing the other is reputedly quite short? :p Now, this:

She doubted Osbern could even find Jerusalem on a map...of Jerusalem.
Click to expand...

is particularly priceless. :D Also, judging from Matilda's mastering Latin at age six, I'm guessing she has uber-stats? Can't wait to see how the world is affected by this! (Although things are already going worse than Dr. What's-His-Face wanted. The Crusades showed up early, rather than not at all. ;) )
 
I have the feeling Matilda will start killing them all very soon :D
 
Slinky said:
I have the feeling Matilda will start killing them all very soon :D
Click to expand...

Yeah, me too...it is totally illogical, but I feel it as well.

Matilda is in a tough spot, hanging around with a bunch of drips like that...She'll kill them all I 'spect.

:D

TheExecuter
 
Matilda does indeed have uber stats...possibly the most uberest that I've ever seen. ;c)

We'll probably be checking back in with Dr. Johann Braun-Kennedy within the next ten posts or so.

And I was wondering how long it would take you guys to start wondering whether it might be Matilda, Annelies, or some other woman not yet introduced who would "kill them all"...if, in fact, anyone "is" killing them all...but this, too, will likely be revealed soon.

And I do remember Dahl's Matilda...but in my mind, I prefer to think of her as Natalie Portman's Matilda from "Leon: The Professional."

:D
 
Actinguy said:
And I was wondering how long it would take you guys to start wondering whether it might be Matilda, Annelies, or some other woman not yet introduced who would "kill them all"...if, in fact, anyone "is" killing them all...but this, too, will likely be revealed soon.
Click to expand...

You tease :(

I recognize who Robert was talking about. What are they up to, I wonder?
 
Honestly?

I have no idea.

We're going to find out together!

:D

I had no idea where Juvenal would first show up until he actually made his appearance...and that worked out pretty well...so we're on this little adventure together.

:rofl:
 
Just A Conspiracy of Cartographers​

Summer, 1082 - Northern France

Count Osbern stood at his chamber's balcony, looking at the stars.

He had been Count now for three years, and the entire time had been focused on the Second Crusade to Jerusalem. France had won. The Muslims had won. France had won. The Muslims had won. Back and forth, the two sides fought for the city of Jerusalem...the city his father had given his life for...and still the matter was unresolved. Jerusalem was, as of this morning's report, back under Osbern's control...but who knew if even that was still true?

There was only way to get the truth of the matter. He would have to go to Jerusalem himself. Despite the fact that he had been Count since his tenth year, his courtiers still looked at him as a mere child. But in three years, he would be sixteen...and then he could do as he pleased, to include going to Jerusalem to personally oversee the war against Egypt.

The matter resolved, Count Osbern returned to his bed and finally fell asleep.


But his slumber was anything but peaceful...he had the strangest nightmare.


He was just a young boy again, walking hand in hand with his father. They walked through the hills and fields, enjoying each other's company...when suddenly his father was attacked by a massive butterfly.

Osbern's father took off into the forest, being pursued by the butterfly. Osbern grabbed a stick to try to fight the attacking insect, but it was no use. His father climbed a tall tree in an attempt to escape...but then fell...to his death.

Osbern rushed to his dead father's side, crying, when a man approached. There was something that seemed terribly familiar (and even, somehow, tragic) about the man...despite the fact that Osbern was certain they had never met before.

"My dad!" Osbern cried to the man.

The old man simply nodded, not saying a word.

"My father! My father is dead!"

He nodded once more, then whispered.

"She killed him."

"What?"

"SHE KILLED HIM."

"Who? Who killed him?"

The old man suddenly lunged forward, seizing the young child by the neck.

"SHE KILLED HIM! SHE'LL KILL THEM ALL!"

My God...he's choking me. I'm going to die. I'm going to die just like Uncle...



Osbern's eyes snapped open.

His heart was still pounding, but he was safe. Safe in his chambers. Safe from the crazy man in the forest. Safe from the giant butterfly. It had just been a dream. A crazy, crazy dream.

Osbern was just about to fall back asleep, when he was blinded by a flash of light.



Specifically, the sort of flash that moonlight causes.




When it bounces off the blade of an assassin's dagger.
 
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'She' is the butterfly...?

Ooo...new cliffhanger, quick Osbern! The window! Now, just jump out onto the butterfly's back, and... :eek:

:D

TheExecuter
 
Buckle your seatbelt kids...we are about to hit two of my three favorite plot twists...in a row!
 
Yaaayyy! And... Is Matilda the assassin? No, no, too obvious. Perhaps.... M'Lord Quentis? Or, even worse, SOMEONE YOU HAVEN'T INTRODUCED US TO YET? ;)

Anyway, I thought up some more of that theme song: :p

"Well, I was walkin' through my manor
Just a-havin' a think
When ol' Juvenal Quentis gave me wink!
Well, I was shocked,
He took me by surprise!
He spoke of Holy Grails
And of butterflies!
He stared at me,
And I felt a change,
Time meant nothin'
Never would again!
LET'S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN!"

;)
 
@LordCowles: Matilda as the assassin? She's only ten years old! But I will give you a hint: The assassin is, reportedly, quite short. At least, perhaps, in comparison to a man who is...reportedly...quite tall. :D

By the way, I only find the time to follow two or three AARs right now...and rarely comment on them, as I am dozens of pages behind...but I obviously need to crank up the pace so that I can earn the "Best Fan" award...and then turn around and nominate you.

It is not everyday that an author receives a theme song...but I think that it should be! :D
 
Well, if Matilda were a Byzantine, she'd already be a learned assassin by ten. :D But, it seems that Guines is not the same as Byzantium - their Wikipedia pages show that.

Awwww.... I'm touched. :eek:o I just like twisting words. ~Insert random sarcastic statement about preparing to become politician and/or lawyer here.~ :p Joking, of course. No offense meant to our boys in pinstripes! ~Salutes.~
 
Things Have Gone About As Far As They Can Possibly Go...​

Summer, 1082 - Northern France -

The assassin was short, practically drowning in his cloak, but there was nothing small about the dagger.

Osbern rolled quickly from his bed, narrowly missing death, and spun to the floor. His foot caught on the stand near his bed, toppling a candelabrum, which struck the Count on the head. Osbern shook off the pain and grabbed the candelabrum's base, using it to parry the assassin's second strike.

Thunderclouds had rolled in as Osbern slept, and now there was a steady fall of rain. Where were his guards? Had they been killed? Paid off? Or were they simply mistaking the sounds of battle for the sounds of thunder?

Osbern was a swordsman of average skill...mitigated of course by the fact that he was not actually using a sword...but the assassin operated his blade at such a level that it seemed like just another appendage of his slight body.

If the fencing continued, the Count would be killed. He would have to use his superior size and strength to his advantage...each of which were minor, given he was only thirteen years old.

Osbern hopped to his feet, flipping the candelabrum in his hand so that he now held it from the top, and swung the base at the assassin's head. The cloaked man easily stopped the attack by grabbing the young boy's wrist and applying pressure, until Osbern fell to his knees and dropped his makeshift weapon. The assassin moved behind him, and prepared to drive the blade between the count's ribs...but Osbern launched his body backwards from the floor, feeling the back of his skull connect with his assassin's nose.

The assassin fell to the ground, laying on one of the sheets which had fallen from the count's bed. As he began to rise again, nose bleeding, the count reached for the sheet to pull it out from under his attacker...but the assassin was quicker, throwing his blade with such skill that it completely severed Osbern's right ear.

Osbern fell to the ground from the pain...but the fear was even greater. He was going to die...he was going to die. His fight or flight instincts told him the fight was over. It was time for flight.

His assassin, with a second blade at the ready, stood between him and the door. There was only one way out. The balcony.

Osbern turned and ran, ready to leap over the balcony and down onto the roof...but slipped on the wet floor from the rain. He felt the assassin's body slam into his with a tackle, and then Osbern's head connected with the marble balustrade and everything started to fade.

As he lost conciousness, he looked up at the assassin who now sat, straddling his body, with the blade up about to pierce his throat.

The wind had blown the assassin's cloak off of his head, revealing a pair of piercing blue eyes, sharp, black hair...

...and the soft face of a ten-year-old girl.



"Matilda!"
 
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