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Part 2 it's getting better lol

posted 2/19/2007 5:01:38 PM |
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The old woman purred in lechery delight. She smiled up at Charity in a terrible rictus grin. “Yes I have what you need girl.” The witch withdrew to the corner and began throwing strange concoctions into a brown rawhide bag. Charity started to ask what was in the strange mix when the old woman laughed and then started to cough finally saying it was best not to ask. “Now listen to me my pretty, take one spoonful a month when the moon itself is pregnant and at its fullest not a day sooner or a day later. With this any man just as soon sow the soil with salt and expect corn as quicken your belly with child.”
So that was how it was in the days leading up to the wedding and now, to the day of the wedding. Great clouds of darkness had rolled into the region. It was just hours before the great wedding. The Baron was in his keep, freshly clean and powdered. Servants of all kind were cleaning the Baron’s bathtub which had a ring that was as dark and oily as boiling tar. The Baron usually had no use for baths. So he had accumulated months of grime and sweat. The Baron sat at his breakfast table mauling down his repast. His fat swaddley jowls were shiny from the bacon fat smeared all over his face. On the floor sat a meal unto itself crumbs and bits of pieces fallen from the Baron’s table. He was not a man to eat daintily. The Baron shoved the last of the beacon he was eating into his cavernous mouth. He parted his lips and belched an uproarious burp. Clapping his hands he called for more food. Speaking to no one in particular the Baron said “Oh what a glorious day, I feast on food this mourning and tonight I shall feast on a virgin who perchance will be my wife.” The Baron laughed out loud. “No more bastard sons for me hey?”
Oh the Baron was in fine spirits this mourning however lady Charity was a different matter all together. Charity’s head was on her small writing table, tears flowed from her cheeks. Her mother tried to provide comfort, but there was none to give. “Dearest daughter I pray you run, the family will survive the anger of the Baron.” Charity turned her face upwards red marks welted into her face. “And where shall I find happiness then? Knowing my family suffers intolerably. I will be imprisoned by sadness no matter the outcome. I and I alone shall suffer this fate. It is right then I bare the responsibility, I will do as the Baron asks.” Charity’s mother fretted with her hands wringing them together in despair. “Now the time is short and I yet to be dressed.” Charity said. The beautiful white dress sat in the corner. It was the most expensive money could buy. The dress looked to Charity as ugly as locks and chains in a dungeon. It was the conveyance by which she would be spirited away to her own living nightmare. The door opened as the chamber maid made entrance. Her eyes were sad and she did nothing to hide it. “Oh Dear Charity but that it was me to befall this fate. I wish there was something I can do.” The maid loved Charity with all her heart and it was written on her face. She had served as her maid since the tender age of 8. Charity looked at the girl who was roughly the same age. “Fear not, and you should have no worries of me. As my trusty servant and friend you shall come with me and in doing so provide all the comfort I need.” The words brought a smile of joy to the maid. She would be happy to serve her mistress and was glad she would not be parted from her. “Now please help me into my dress” Charity spoke to her mother and the maid.
If it was at all possible the sky grew even darker as the hour of the wedding approached. The wedding was being held inside the keep. It was large enough to hold all who might attend and keep them safe from the weather. Benches adorned in white and covered with the petals of red roses lined the great hall. Both grand fire places burned like bellies of ancient dragons. The chandeliers above burned with the brightness of over a hundred candles. Minstrels gaily attired sat ready for the event. Light reflected grandly of the stain glass windows. Happiness seemed to be found in every corner. Patrons of the wedding began to be seated dukes, and knights, and great barons of industry filed into the benches. The women of these men dressed in their finest accompanied them. Within minutes all the seats were taken. The minstrels began to play. The room was filled with gossip and jabbering. The Calderon’s sat prominently in the front. If the truth were told most of the gossip was about them. Little did the throng of people know the truth behind the wicked marriage. It seemed the majority of the people thought the family willing sacrificed the daughter for riches or some other monetary gain. The priest came into the front stopping behind the dais. He placed his immense golden bible on the rest and turned its great pages to the parts he needed. With a loud trumpet came the Baron himself regaled in his finest. As hard as the tailors tried the Baron’s great bulk wiggled when he walked. The baron strutted to his position just a few feet in front of the first row. This row contained all the finest people in the region. It could be said these chosen few owned more than all the rest of the people behind them. The Baron knew how to court power. The only people out of place were the Calderon’s. If it was not for their daughter they would no have fit even with the people in the very back who were left standing. The Baron stood in place with a rigid uptight air. He seemed to be concentrating on something important his face was twisted and pinched. He bent ever so slightly breaking wind which sounded like the proud roar of a dragon. The smell was thick and meaty from the great breakfast he had consumed. The patrons knowing on which side their bread was buttered attempted not to notice. One wrong deed and the slide down could be very slippery if one were to offend the Baron. The sound was easily ignored; however, the smell was inescapable. Ladies began to wave fans in front of their face to wash the evil air away. Those without fans pretended their noses needed attention from handkerchiefs burying them deep in disgust. The men simply fidgeted and twisted in their seats. Lord Jeffery the most stoic of men sat as if nothing at all was wrong. However, his eyes watered as the smell drifted pass. The movement of the people seemed almost choreographed as first one row then the next began to stir as the noxious gas overcame them. The Baron stood before the crowd a picture of pure serenity all his tension gone.
The great back door opened and in came 15 flower girls, one girl for every year of Charity’s life. One girl headed two lines of seven. The music changed as the sweet girls paraded down the isle. From their woven baskets they threw flower pedals of red and white. The floor became a swirl of blossoms, montage of red and white. The crowd gasped and murmured as Charity made her entrance. Her dress was as white as pure snow so delicate and fine t

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Feb 19 @ 5:24PM  
Excellant, as always, eagerly awaiting the next part!

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Part 2 it's getting better lol