The Peasants are Revolting! (zombies) [open]
Sir Guy of Gisborne was walking through the mostly deserted streets, trying to get a better feel for this strange City he was trapped in. The people dressed so strangely, especially the women. Their outfits were almost all unfit to be seen in polite company and yet no one else seemed to be offended by their attire. This was all very, very confusing to the 12th Century knight.
Guy was beginning to think he might not be anywhere near England anymore.
Wherever he was, Gisborne needed to find a way to get the advantage over his rival, Robin Hood. And part of that advantage meant he needed to have his sword sharpened. Perhaps he should even acquire a second weapon. But to accomplish both of those tasks, he needed to find the town blacksmith.
It took him a moment before he realized that there weren’t that many people out on the streets at that time. Another odd quirk of the City, he supposed. Perhaps these City dwellers preferred to come out at a different time of the day. He did spot one man lumbering towards him slowly. Gisborne hoped this fellow could tell him where the blacksmith was located.
As he drew near, Guy immediately noticed the God-awful stench coming from the man. He was beginning to doubt that this fellow had the means to employ a blacksmith, so it was doubtful he would even know where one was located. He decided that he needed to find a person of a higher class to ask and turned to walk away.
The smelly, dirty man reached for Gisborne, moaning out some strange chant. Probably begging him for money. Gisborne stepped back with a sneer and drew his sword. He did not know whom this man thought he was, but Gisborne was not about to allow himself to be touched by one of the great unwashed. Looking up, he noticed that others were moving towards him, most likely friends of this bastard.
Guy held his sword up, letting them all know he was armed. None of them seemed intimidated by the naked blade. They obviously were under the false impression that he would not use his weapon. Time to teach them the error of that thought.
The first dirty man leaned forward, acting as if he intended to bite Sir Guy. What a disgusting, filthy thing to do. Before he could get his teeth into him, Guy growled and swung his sword. Years of training allowed him to easily take the man’s head off his shoulders with very little effort. The sword was sharp and in good shape. Maybe he didn’t need that blacksmith after all. He glanced at the dirty mod that was slowly moving closer to him. They were continuing their advance in spite of the headless corpse at his feet.
Guy snorted in disgust and walked away, sheathing his sword. He had more important things to do than try to control a crowd. He had seen a castle close by. That was where he should have been heading in the first place.
He sneered at the crowd as he started towards the castle. “Peasants.”