[Bordermarch] The Baron

[Lathrop, Dave]

The tale speaks true. 
I have recorded all of HE Elisabeth's little helpers names in my big red "BOOK of SHAME!"
I shall let my revenge fester like the open sores that pepper the deadly canker root mushroom.
It really wasn't so bad in the loo; 
I was surrounded by a pleasing quasi-blue light that filtered gently through the translucent walls of what could only be precious alabaster stone sliced to the thinnest possible thickness by master craftsman from the isle of Porta. While interred, I had time to study the pierced white Genoa marble stone work near the eaves of the loo. I noticed that the intricate geometric mosaic patterns in the marble would align with the "Father, Son and Holy Ghost" constellations; the three northern most star clusters this side of the great Sabine. It was unfortunate indeed that the drinking fountain, conveniently located within reach whilst one is sitting upon the "Throne of Sincere Contemplation", was not in working order; my throat was parched and filled with ashes due to Lord Brand Eric constantly poking around our campfire with his fire poky sticks. The semi circular glutei maxi support was surely hewed from rare Gabon ebony wood, found only deep in the jungles of the Dark continent. It was a privilege and honor to rest my weary bones on this seat of   
great expectations. I noticed the magic of the "Throne of Sincere Contemplation", begin working the instant I was seated. My eyes glazed over for God knows how long, but after the magic was spent I felt a burden had been purged from my inner being. When my senses had fully returned, I realized that my kneecaps were level with my eyes. Perhaps this  "Throne of Sincere Contemplation", was constructed for people of shorter stature than I. As I studied my left knee, for that is my favorite knee, my eyes spied an object in the far left corner of the loo. I asked myself, "Could this be the legendary, Receptacle of Knowledge?" Yeh! say's I to myself, it must be so for there I see the ancient white parchment scrolls wrapped tightly around the sacred cylinders of Char-min. The enigma know to all as the "Mystical Whipple" will leave words of wisdom on the scrolls if he is obliged, but more than once, imitators of the "Mystical Whipple" have desecrated the walls of loos with their scribbled names, as if to brag that they too can be enigmas. I must admit that sometimes good fortune comes to one who can decipher those very same scribbles; that's how I was blessed to finally met with my lovely Elisabeth.
And the rest is history. 

HE Santiago

To: Bordermarch
Subject: [Bordermarch] The Baron

All though the Baron is full of fun it is the Baroness he must beware of for he learned no better lesson then when she had her small but dedicated team of Lords try and capture him.

It was a late night around the warm and glowing fire when HE Santiago excused himself and trotted down the road toward the loo.  His young populace left behind they started to plot a trick on him and thought(with their young, small minds) to scare the Great One!  "Oh but no," said the Baroness.  "You must use those precious minds for something more then war practice.  Think BIG, really BIG!  If any one knows the Baron it is I.  He will be expecting you and will not scare."  So I sent them forth to lock the Baron in the plastic loo with nothing but the fine stick whittled earlier in the evening by M'Lord Jessie son of Aaron White Wolf.   (Seems Jessie had a lot of time on his hands doesn't it!)  Oh but his tiny instruments came in handy for the Baroness,  for it was this tiny sword whittled from a branch that kept the Baron at bay, for in the black of night you heard but a bump, then another, and another bulging the flimsy door outward as the
 Baron thrust his mighty chest at it to escape.  Then suddenly he emerged with a loud kaboom, tall and straight, chest pumped up like a super...man in the night. Yet no one saw him(he thinks).  Defeated he shrugged his wide, broad shoulders then proudly walked back to the campfire thinking he defeated the lot of them...oh but little did he know who sent them.
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