Because I'm a wee bit paranoid, yes I admit it.. step one and all that.. but I have already digressed. Being the paranoid albeit normal person that I am, I have decided to change the names of the victims that I will undoubtly rant, rave, and gossip about. You see.. I work for the government, and I know there is at least one person in this office that would dearly love to use anything I write ..against me.. but If I change the names.. and location.. and yes, even the time period in which it happens.. I feel I can vent freely with out a hint of the backstabbing bastard getting me.
What I do is not glamorous, or even special. I'm an office assistant.. but for the sake of 'location & time period' lets just say.. I'm your everyday average serf, living in fuedal England during the middle ages. Yes there are lords and ladies a plenty.. and even more serfs .. like me .. but only one King.. The funny thing about this King, is that no one really knows what he looks like from the front.. as the only time anyone sees him, is by having someone else say 'look there goes the king around the corner'. Now this can be a frustrating thing..having a King that wants to rule and have say in every kingdom peons life.. yet never around to do so. It makes for some interesting power struggles between the lords and ladies that want to become the next King or Queen.
I have no illusions that I shall ever become queen. I know I want.. but I do fall prey to the sins of plotting world dominition just like the next fellow. However.. as frustrating as it is to have an absent King.. it is also quite nice. You can do your job, and if one of the lords gets on you.. you just say 'But the King said...' that usually shuts em up. Granted this could come back to bite you royally in the arse.. but such is life. Especially when you have some lords like the ones I deal with.
For instance Sir Percival. Sir Percival is the Lord of all that Ages. It's his duty to make sure all the old serfs in the kingdom have information available to them lest they should need something that they are too old to get for themselves. But.. the man is 56 years old and still lives with his mother... Oh I know.. you're thinking to youself.. he's jsut taking care of her in her old age.. like a good son. But he's not! He's never moved out. Never been on his own! His mother still cooks and cleans for him! Being the Lord of all ages .. you would think he would say to himself 'I make good money.. dont have to spend it on the castle cause Me dear departed Lord Father paid it off by his death.. I could hire someone to let me dear darling mother have a restful old age.' But no.. he doesn't. He even leaves her lists of things to have done by the time he returns later in the day.
But then .. there is the evil lady Terror; in charge of Serf Labor relations. You know.. you keep your serfs happy.. you get productive serfs.. you whip your serfs.. you get food with spit in it. Lets just say I dont eat at the King's castle.. ever and the water has a distinct amonia smell. The Lady Terror is by no means the worst of the kingdom, because she has the Trogladite as her henchman. legends say the Trogladites were killed in the ice age.. but evil never really dies.. and thus explains the precambrian lifeform of the Trogladite.
The trogladite isnt very big.. but it is as tall as it is round. It has no neck, i guess that's why it has a raspy projectile spittle cough every 2 minutes. It tends to drag its overly hairy arms behind it as it waddles toward you. It's not verra fast, as it lumbers along, but when legend said they were stupid creatures.. legend was wrong. It is very cunning.. it has an undying thirst for supreme power and has climbed to its current position of henchman to Lady Terror on the backs of a myriad of innocent serfs. Lady Terror protects the Trogladite with threat of posion, death and hacking to pieces of those that dare speak ill about it; and so the serfs are too scared to hunt it down and destroy it. Yes even I am wary of the Trogladite.