Three Word Thursday #34

Welcome to Three Word Thursday #34. This week, joining the quondam obscure word-list, we have suffarcinatespiscious; & tristifical. We also have a dandy bunch of perspicacious writers. If you enjoy reading my story, leave a comment then click on the names of the other players and go see how they used these bygone words. You’ll be entertained (and possibly educated) all at once.

The 12th Knight of Strawberry Fife

Dragon Eggs

The tristifical sight at his feet caused Sir Evaard to heave, generally adding to the maleolent atmosphere of the Patisserie’s garden. Reluctantly, Evaard rolled the body over. It was Olaf Patisserie. The baker’s skull was concave. Dried gray matter crusted the side of his face.

Despite his roiling stomach, Sir Evaard knelt and inspected the bloating body. Vermin and bugs had already feasted upon the wounds and left their eggs behind. Evaard’s gaze fell upon the jeweled silver brooch still securing Patisserie’s cloak. Reluctantly, he searched the dead baker’s pockets and found his purse suffarcinated with coin.

Whoever had killed the baker was not intent on robbery then. Evaard stood and carefully surveyed the garden. It was a broad, fenced expanse and contained the requisite herbs, vegetables and flowers, but almost everything except Olaf Patisserie was coated in a brown spiscious goo that bore an offal stench. The animal that produced such waste was not one Evaard knew.

He turned his attention toward the house. Olaf’s Patisserie’s body had been here for quite some time, perhaps even since he’d left his bakery the afternoon before; so why had nobody found it and why had no cry been raised? He could well understand it if nobody within the house ever entered into this accursed garden but surely when Mrs. Patisserie ventured out last evening, she knew her husband had not returned home. Why hadn’t she said anything?

Or perhaps she had. Evaard moved purposely toward the back entrance to the cottage. He needed answers so it was time to start asking questions. As he stepped onto the hearthstone, a pile of broken giant urns beside the door claimed his attention. He grabbed one of the shards and examined it. “Holy saints,” he exclaimed. “Dragon eggs!” At least a half-dozen of them.

to be continued
read the story in full

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The 3WT #35 words will be: Your choice of any new words introduced in October.  Remember, you must use at least three

Got it? Good! In that case: Your story is due on: November 5th, 2009

Three Word Thursday #33

Welcome to Three Word Thursday #33. This week, joining the quondam obscure word-list, we have maleolentxenization; & pigritude. We also have a dandy bunch of perspicacious writers. If you enjoy reading my story, leave a comment then click on the names of the other players and go see how they used these bygone words. You’ll be entertained (and possibly educated) all at once.

The 12th Knight of Strawberry Fife

Through the Back Gate

“Tell me about Mistress Patisserie.” Sir Evaard questioned.  “You said she was a mariturient lady, but isn’t she already wed?”

Fencil looked at Evaard in surprise. “Well, yes sir, she is; but not her daughters.”

“Her daughters?” Sir Evaard frowned. “Mistress Patisserie wanted to arrange a marriage between Sir Chevall and one of her daughters? Which one?”

Fencil shrugged. “Dulce or Tarta. I do not think it mattered. The Patisseries just wanted a Knight in the family.”

“I see.” And Sir Chevall did see. The Patisseries were trying to elevate their social status. He considered the black wreath on their door. It was not Sir Chevall they were mourning, but the death of their hopes and dreams. Without Chevall, they would not be moving into the castle. “I wish to to talk to the Patisseries,” Sir Evaard said. “But the black wreath on their front door prevents me from entering. Could you watch the house and notify me when the baker or his wife emerge?”

Fencil shrugged. “Sure I could,” he said. “But why don’t you just use the back gate like the servants?”

How simple. Sir Evaard knew that using the back gate to contact the family was unacceptable, but he could question the servants. Perhaps one of them would know where he could find Sir Chevall’s body. “Fencil, you’re brilliant!” He said. “Stay here and watch the horse, and don’t let anybody steal any strawberries!”

A strong sense of xenization followed Sir Evaard through the back gate of the Patisserie cottage. City gardens were alien to him, but he was certain most didn’t smell this maleolent. Only gross pigritude could be blamed for the offal stench. It turned his stomach.

Sir Evaard walked on his tippy-toes with his nose pointed toward the sky as he struggled for a breath of fresh air. That’s why he didn’t see the body in his path until after he had tripped over it.

to be continued
read the story in full

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The 3WT #34 words will be: suffarcinate; spiscious; & tristifical.

Got it? Good! In that case: Your story is due on: October 29th, 2009

Three Word Thursday #32

Welcome to Three Word Thursday #32 . This week, joining the quondam obscure word-list, we have tenellousutible; & nubivagant. We also have a dandy bunch of perspicacious writers. If you enjoy reading my story, leave a comment then click on the names of the other players and go see how they used these bygone words. You’ll be entertained (and possibly educated) all at once.

The 12th Knight of Strawberry Fife

Fragile Honor

Sir Evaard turned away from the Patisserie household. With the black wreath hanging there he could not bang upon the door demanding answers. Maybe, if he were and older knight, one with tried and true experience, he could get away with such a thing. Now, if he started making accusations without proof, they would probably accuse him of nubivagant fantasies. He needed utible proof before going any further.

He walked back toward the Strawberry stand. Yesterday he thought guarding strawberries an embarassment. This morning he wished that strawberry thieves were his greatest concern.

The oporopolist saw him coming and let out a wail. “You boy! What kind of Knight are you? The sun has been well up for at least an hour!”

The morning was still cool, the shadows were still long, and in truth it hadn’t been full-light for even half that time. Further more, Sir Evaard was no longer a boy, he was a knight of the realm. He considered how his former master, Sir Tomlinson, would have reacted if faced with such disrespect. Sir Evaard tensed with his hand poised above the hilt of his sword. He lowered his chin a fraction, and stared at the fruit seller.

A look of shock crossed the man’s face. He scuttled behind the counter of his fruit stand and stuttered, “P-pardon Sir E-evaard. I-I am c-certain you kn-now the K-king’s business b-better than I!”

Sir Evaard started at the man just a moment longer, then turned his gaze on Sir Chevall’s war horse, clearly dismissing the fruit seller. The horse remained tied to the tree as Evaard had left it, but someone had brought water and feed. From where he stood, Evaard could see a pair of small feet. He approaced the horse and found Fencil leaning against the tree. “I thought I told you to stay with Vernal?”

“I must stay with the horse,” Fencil said. “That is the last order my master gave me.”

“Sir Chevall is dead,” Evaard answered.

“He is not dead until I see his cold body,” Fencil responded.

Evaard knew those words. They were among the first things taught to a page. He considered ordering the boy to return to Vernal and the cabin, but child or not, he had a sworn duty to uphold and he seemed determined to do so. Evaard nodded at the boy. “You are an honor to your master.”  His offered the words as a healing salve for the boy’s tenellous pride.

Fencil’s lower lip quivered and his eyes filled with tears.  Evaard looked away as the boy furiously swiped his eyes with the hem of his tunic.  Once Fencil was under control, Evaard spoke, “If you wish to help your master, I have more questions.”

Fencil gave his nose a swipe on the sleeve of his shirt and nodded his head.

to be continued
story archive

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The 3WT #33 words will be: maleolent; xenization; & pigritude.

Got it? Good! In that case: Your story is due on:  October 22nd, 2009

Three Word Thursday #31

Welcome to Three Word Thursday #31 .  This week, joining the quondam obscure word-list, we have misqueme; tragematopolist; & vacivity.   We also have a dandy bunch of perspicacious writers. If you enjoy reading my story, leave a comment then click on the names of the other players and go see how they used these bygone words. You’ll be entertained (and possibly educated) all at once.

The 12th Knight of Strawberry Fife

Mourning Complications

Sir Evaard left the alley to it’s vacivity, and made his way to the bakey. Olaf Patisserie always timed his baking so that the scent of loaves fresh from the oven greeted the morning sun.

The bakery was closed and no delicious scents wiggled through the shutters.

The door to the Confectioner’s Shop opened and the tragematopolist stepped out. “Good-morning, Sir Evaard.” The rotund man looked as though he tasted too many of his own sweets. “Twenty years I am next door to Olaf and every day his shop, he opens. Today, not so. So I sent my boy. Boy, I said, go see if all is well with Olaf. The boy comes back. All is not well.”

“And may I inquire the nature of Master Olaf’s complaint?” Sir Evaard asked.

“I mean to say,” the tragematopolist continued as though Sir Evaard had not spoken. “Olaf himself is well, but his wife and daughter fare less so. The misses was set upon by brigands late yester-eve. I understand that quite roughly they handled her. Your commrade, Sir Shovel –”

“Chevall –”

“Just so.” the fat man nodded and cleared his throat. “Sir Shovel, indeed. On the scene he arrived, and the misses, her escape she made, but the knight, he perished.”

“Perished?” Sir Evaard repeated. “Do you know where they’ve taken his body?”

The rotund tragematopolist shrugged. “Tell that, I can’t, but closed the bakery will remain for the days three of mourning as customary it is.”

Sir Evaard thanked the confusing man and turned away. Patisserie was no relative of Sir Chevall. Evaard was certain of that. So why would the baker and his family choose to observe the offical mourning? Was it simple gratitude, or something else? Evaard made his way to the Patisserie Cottage.

He stopped several yards from the house. A black wreath adorned the door and black curtains covered the windows. Disregarding such symbols of mourning would surely be a misqueme of epic porportions. Sir Evaard bit his lip and stood in the street, undecided.

to be continued
story archive

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The 3WT #32 words will be: tenellous; utible; & nubivagant.

Got it? Good! In that case: Your story is due on:  October 15th, 2009

Three Word Thursday #30

Welcome to Three Word Thursday #30. This week we had no word list and our prolix bloggers (and not so prolix dragons) were invited to use any three (or more) words of their choice from the previously used word list. We also have a dandy bunch of perspicacious writers. If you enjoy reading my story, leave a comment then click on the names of the other players and go see how they used these bygone words. You’ll be entertained (and possibly educated) all at once.

The 12th Knight of Strawberry Fife

A Clue

Evaard rode into Strawberry Fife on the back of Sir Chevall’s war steed. The sun had barely cleared the horizon. The street was occupied by only a few bonded servants, most of them girls visiting the well. Dismounting behind the strawberry stand, Evaard secured the beast’s reins to a tree branch and hastily made his way to the alley.

He wondered how Mistress Comida Patisserie came to be outside after dark unescorted. That seemed highly suspect, yet Fencil said it was a common event. And if she was Mistress Patisserie, was she not already wed? Why was she courting Chevall? Fencil said she had marriage in mind, but that simply could not be. Evaard knew the merchant, Obel Patisserie. He was a rotund man with a fleshy, glabrous head and sagging jowls. That his wife might want to be rid of him came as no surprise, but the fact that Patisserie allowed her out alone after dark most certainly did.

Evaard drew his sword before stepping into the alley. He entered sideways with his back to the wall, remaining in shadow as much as possible. He paused, looking the scene over carefully. He saw no signs of Chevall or his sword. The club wielders were no longer on the scene.

Evaard scanned the shadows carefully, looking for possible places of ambush. The alley remained surprising clean, save the hitonious pool of stagnicolous water bisecting its length. The only concealment to be had lay behind the closed back door of the Royal Dragon Pub. Evaard stepped from the shadows and approached the foul puddle, noting a glimmer of silver near its northern edge.

Carefully using the toe of his boot, Evaard nudged the silver disc from the sludge. It was a phalerae and it bore the distinctive symbol of Strawberry Fife, a dragon coiled around a giant strawberry.  XI was engraved on the back of the phalerae.  Eleven.  Sir Chevall would never have parted with his badge of office if he were still able to fight.

to be continued
story archive

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The 3WT #31 words will be: misqueme; tragematopolist; & vacivity

Got it? Good! In that case: Your story is due on: October 8th, 2009