The Blackadder Tale - An England AAR
- Thread starter TC Pilot
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Pore King William, sounds like he is having a really bad hangover, I guess this shows that one should never start handing out title while one is drunk :rofl:
Great work, keep it coming
Great work, keep it coming
I am not sure if I remember it correctly, but I think that would be the moment where Edmund Blackadder shoots King Harold during the battle of Hastings…TC Pilot said:
Oh good grace, this is wonderful! I believe that there was another Blackadder-AAR quite a while ago that sadly died because of computer problems. But now someone else ahs picked up the torch! 
Following, eternally.
Following, eternally.
stnylan: Afraid I'm not familiar with that show, so the resemblance is unintentional (or unconscious).
Estonianzulu:
General_BT: I'm not sure Blackadder was ever feared, so a truly titanic effort will have to be made to achieve that.
Veldmaarschalk/Anti-Tank/Slinky/Wetew/etc.: Thanks!
Lord E: Exactly right! Well done, sir!
coz1: I felt it appropriate to give Edmund a dukedom early on (i.e. immediately) because throughout the entire first series he was Duke of Edinburgh (and various other places). Plus, for the sake of the AAR, my options are significantly expanded over a mere country.
Snugglie: Well, at the rate I'm getting replies, I do not see any "computer troubles" in the foreseeable future.
January 15th, 1067
Three men stood in the Exeter castle's great hall. Their clothes and bearing distinguished them was noblemen, and their manner of speech instantly revealed them to be Normans to the Saxon servants that skittered past them as they went about their daily chores.
"It's an outrage! An utter outrage!" the first noble, Robert de Conteville, Count of Cornwall, a brown-haired man with a startlingly large nose, blustered indignantly.
"A complete disgrace!" agreed the second, the dour-looking Robert de Courseulles, Count of Somerset, agreed emphatically.
"Such treacherous talk!" retorted the third, a heavy-set and grizzled Count of Devon, Baldwin de Brionne, stamping his foot on the stone floor. "He is our lord and master, appointed by the king!"
"Fah!" spat the second Robert. "The King was wearing a chamber pot and yelling 'Bibble bobble' at the top of his lungs when he permitted this."
"I am the Count of Cornwall," added the first Robert. "Should I not also be the Duke of Cornwall?"
"The Duke fought bravely and heroically at Hastings alongside all of us. His loyalty deserves to be rewarded!" Baldwin insisted.
Both the other noblemen hesitated at that. "Perhaps," de Conteville admitted at length. "I suppose we should at least size the man up before we judge him unfit. He is a proper Norman, at least."
As if on cue, trumpets sounded forth from a distance and a rotund boy, a dazed and confused look on his face, emerged through one of the castle corridors. "The Duke of Cornwall, Edmund Blackadder, approaches!"
The three counts turned toward the boy, waiting expectantly. The trumpets blared again and Edmund Blackadder entered, his cloak billowing dramatically behind him as he whirled in, his step confident and brisk. He stopped several steps in, planting his feet solidly on the ground and looking down his nose at the three counts...
...who were facing the opposite direction.
Edmund cringed and hunched forward in embarrassment as the young herald stared listlessly at him, clearing his throat. As one, the counts turned around, mild surprise on their faces. Edmund recoiled, flinching at the sudden move.
"G-g-greetings," Edmund stammered under the trio's gaze. "I am Edmund....Duke Edmund."
The two Roberts exchanged glances and rolled their eyes. Baldwin stepped forward, a wild grin on his face. "My Lord!" he bellowed, again causing Edmund to flinch. He held out his arms as if to embrace Edmund and stepped closer.
Edmund yelped and recoiled. "Please don't hurt me!" he cried out. Quickly recomposing himself, he again cleared his throat. "And...it's... not proper to embrace one's vassals....yes, that's right!"
"If you say so, my lord," Baldwin replied.
"So..." Edmund drawled, at a lose for words. "You three are... my...vassals?"
"Amazingly," the first Robert responded, looking incredibly unimpressed.
"Unbelievably," the second added.
"Well," Edmund said testingly, his eyes darting back and forth as he grinned sheepishly. "It was... nice meeting you all. You can go. I... dismiss you."
For a moment, no one moved. The two Roberts stared in barely-restrained disgust at their Duke, while Baldwin struggled to cope with the abrupt dismissal. After an awkward pause, the three counts reluctantly withdrew, vanishing down a corridor, leaving Edmund cringing more than ever.
An unkempt man with a scraggily beard and shabby clothes approached Edmund from behind. Leaning in, the man spoke: “You had them eating out of the palm of your hand, my lord.”
Edmund turned and recoiled slightly at the sight of the man. “Really?” he asked, fidgeting with his fingers.
The man pressed his lips tightly together and nodded. “Oh yes, my lord. They did everything you asked them to do, like servants to a master.”
Edmund’s cringing expression turned to one of unrestrained glee. “Yes, of course! I like the cut of your jib! What’s your name, anyway?”
“Baldrick, my lord.”
“Got a last name?”
”Sod off,” Baldrick replied evenly, not even blinking.
“What!?” Edmund scoffed. “How dare you!”
“No!” Baldrick protested. “That’s me name. All the kids used to say to me ‘Hey Baldrick, sod off!’ So who am I to argue?”
Edmund immediately felt relieved. “Well then. I shall call you…. Baldrick.”
“And I will call you my lord, my lord,” Baldrick replied.
Baldrick
Edmund grinned. “I have a good feeling that you’re just the kind of servant I’ve been looking for, Baldrick,” he said, clasping him by the shoulder, causing a small cloud of dust from Baldrick’s clothes to fly into the air. “Then again…maybe not,” he muttered under his breath, looking at his hand with distaste as he pulled it away.
“Edmund!” a man cried out from beyond the room. Edmund looked up to see Lord Percy Percy emerge from the same hallway he had entered through, looking something like a lost puppy.
Percy
“Percy!” Edmund gestured to Percy. “Glad you could join us. This is Baldrick, my new servant.”
Percy turned to Baldrick, noticing him for the first time. “Oh,” he said, crinkling his nose in distaste. “Hello… peasant.”
“Hello my lord,” Baldrick answered in the same even tone he had used with Edmund, staring dully up at the tall Norman.
Percy quickly turned back to Edmund. “News you were made a Duke has spread all over the kingdom. Everyone’s talking about it.”
“And why wouldn’t they?” Edmund boasted, puffing himself up with pride. “But a Duke is only the first step in my much bigger plan! No, this is but the beginning of my quest to become the king!” Edmund stared off into the distance, his mind wandering through his dream, licking his lips in anticipation. Quickly, he turned back to Percy. “And with your family fortune, it will be all the easier!”
“Actually,” Percy said, blinking several times as he stumbled over the words, his mouth hanging open. “That was partly why I’m here. You see….my family disowned me just the other day…”
Edmund’s expression suddenly became one of horror. “What!? You mean you’ve been excluded from the entire family fortune.”
“Completely penniless,” Percy said morosely, looking down at the floor. Sheepishly, he looked back up. “It was the…goat again.”
“Well…” Edmund grumbled, rolling his eyes. “So much for that plan. But that just means it’ll take a little bit longer than I expected.”
Estonianzulu:
General_BT: I'm not sure Blackadder was ever feared, so a truly titanic effort will have to be made to achieve that.
Veldmaarschalk/Anti-Tank/Slinky/Wetew/etc.: Thanks!
Lord E: Exactly right! Well done, sir!
coz1: I felt it appropriate to give Edmund a dukedom early on (i.e. immediately) because throughout the entire first series he was Duke of Edinburgh (and various other places). Plus, for the sake of the AAR, my options are significantly expanded over a mere country.
Snugglie: Well, at the rate I'm getting replies, I do not see any "computer troubles" in the foreseeable future.
~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~
January 15th, 1067
Three men stood in the Exeter castle's great hall. Their clothes and bearing distinguished them was noblemen, and their manner of speech instantly revealed them to be Normans to the Saxon servants that skittered past them as they went about their daily chores.
"It's an outrage! An utter outrage!" the first noble, Robert de Conteville, Count of Cornwall, a brown-haired man with a startlingly large nose, blustered indignantly.
"A complete disgrace!" agreed the second, the dour-looking Robert de Courseulles, Count of Somerset, agreed emphatically.
"Such treacherous talk!" retorted the third, a heavy-set and grizzled Count of Devon, Baldwin de Brionne, stamping his foot on the stone floor. "He is our lord and master, appointed by the king!"
"Fah!" spat the second Robert. "The King was wearing a chamber pot and yelling 'Bibble bobble' at the top of his lungs when he permitted this."
"I am the Count of Cornwall," added the first Robert. "Should I not also be the Duke of Cornwall?"
"The Duke fought bravely and heroically at Hastings alongside all of us. His loyalty deserves to be rewarded!" Baldwin insisted.
Both the other noblemen hesitated at that. "Perhaps," de Conteville admitted at length. "I suppose we should at least size the man up before we judge him unfit. He is a proper Norman, at least."
As if on cue, trumpets sounded forth from a distance and a rotund boy, a dazed and confused look on his face, emerged through one of the castle corridors. "The Duke of Cornwall, Edmund Blackadder, approaches!"
The three counts turned toward the boy, waiting expectantly. The trumpets blared again and Edmund Blackadder entered, his cloak billowing dramatically behind him as he whirled in, his step confident and brisk. He stopped several steps in, planting his feet solidly on the ground and looking down his nose at the three counts...
...who were facing the opposite direction.
Edmund cringed and hunched forward in embarrassment as the young herald stared listlessly at him, clearing his throat. As one, the counts turned around, mild surprise on their faces. Edmund recoiled, flinching at the sudden move.
"G-g-greetings," Edmund stammered under the trio's gaze. "I am Edmund....Duke Edmund."
The two Roberts exchanged glances and rolled their eyes. Baldwin stepped forward, a wild grin on his face. "My Lord!" he bellowed, again causing Edmund to flinch. He held out his arms as if to embrace Edmund and stepped closer.
Edmund yelped and recoiled. "Please don't hurt me!" he cried out. Quickly recomposing himself, he again cleared his throat. "And...it's... not proper to embrace one's vassals....yes, that's right!"
"If you say so, my lord," Baldwin replied.
"So..." Edmund drawled, at a lose for words. "You three are... my...vassals?"
"Amazingly," the first Robert responded, looking incredibly unimpressed.
"Unbelievably," the second added.
"Well," Edmund said testingly, his eyes darting back and forth as he grinned sheepishly. "It was... nice meeting you all. You can go. I... dismiss you."
For a moment, no one moved. The two Roberts stared in barely-restrained disgust at their Duke, while Baldwin struggled to cope with the abrupt dismissal. After an awkward pause, the three counts reluctantly withdrew, vanishing down a corridor, leaving Edmund cringing more than ever.
An unkempt man with a scraggily beard and shabby clothes approached Edmund from behind. Leaning in, the man spoke: “You had them eating out of the palm of your hand, my lord.”
Edmund turned and recoiled slightly at the sight of the man. “Really?” he asked, fidgeting with his fingers.
The man pressed his lips tightly together and nodded. “Oh yes, my lord. They did everything you asked them to do, like servants to a master.”
Edmund’s cringing expression turned to one of unrestrained glee. “Yes, of course! I like the cut of your jib! What’s your name, anyway?”
“Baldrick, my lord.”
“Got a last name?”
”Sod off,” Baldrick replied evenly, not even blinking.
“What!?” Edmund scoffed. “How dare you!”
“No!” Baldrick protested. “That’s me name. All the kids used to say to me ‘Hey Baldrick, sod off!’ So who am I to argue?”
Edmund immediately felt relieved. “Well then. I shall call you…. Baldrick.”
“And I will call you my lord, my lord,” Baldrick replied.
Baldrick
Edmund grinned. “I have a good feeling that you’re just the kind of servant I’ve been looking for, Baldrick,” he said, clasping him by the shoulder, causing a small cloud of dust from Baldrick’s clothes to fly into the air. “Then again…maybe not,” he muttered under his breath, looking at his hand with distaste as he pulled it away.
“Edmund!” a man cried out from beyond the room. Edmund looked up to see Lord Percy Percy emerge from the same hallway he had entered through, looking something like a lost puppy.
Percy
“Percy!” Edmund gestured to Percy. “Glad you could join us. This is Baldrick, my new servant.”
Percy turned to Baldrick, noticing him for the first time. “Oh,” he said, crinkling his nose in distaste. “Hello… peasant.”
“Hello my lord,” Baldrick answered in the same even tone he had used with Edmund, staring dully up at the tall Norman.
Percy quickly turned back to Edmund. “News you were made a Duke has spread all over the kingdom. Everyone’s talking about it.”
“And why wouldn’t they?” Edmund boasted, puffing himself up with pride. “But a Duke is only the first step in my much bigger plan! No, this is but the beginning of my quest to become the king!” Edmund stared off into the distance, his mind wandering through his dream, licking his lips in anticipation. Quickly, he turned back to Percy. “And with your family fortune, it will be all the easier!”
“Actually,” Percy said, blinking several times as he stumbled over the words, his mouth hanging open. “That was partly why I’m here. You see….my family disowned me just the other day…”
Edmund’s expression suddenly became one of horror. “What!? You mean you’ve been excluded from the entire family fortune.”
“Completely penniless,” Percy said morosely, looking down at the floor. Sheepishly, he looked back up. “It was the…goat again.”
“Well…” Edmund grumbled, rolling his eyes. “So much for that plan. But that just means it’ll take a little bit longer than I expected.”
*subscribes*
As an American who loves Blackadder, I have to say I am truly loving this! Keep it going!
I/C
~Hawk
As an American who loves Blackadder, I have to say I am truly loving this! Keep it going!
I/C
~Hawk
Oh lawd, the goat! I need to pick forward that Blackadder-box and sit down by the telly some day...
I need to pick forward that Blackadder-box and sit down by the telly some day...
Up Pompeii is really quite good fun - if you like Blackadder I think you would like that.
Was quite pleased as this update features one of my favourite lines from the first series.
Was quite pleased as this update features one of my favourite lines from the first series.
good work, though some things are a bit to close to the original plot and lines. Still keep up the good work! making me laugh
they may be close, but I gotta say, they are some of the good ones from the first series lol
I/C
~Hawk
I/C
~Hawk
Baldrick at least gets to be Chancellor... too bad CK doesn't have a Court Jester position - Percy Percy might fit that just fine!
I see our blackadder will be the rather fussy and perhaps incompetent of the first series. That might not be so good for his duchy, however. But with Baldrick by his side, he is sure to come up with a cunning...well, you know.
Could this story continue onwards after CK.... with an early EU3 Blackadder 2 and a late EU3 Blackadder the Third... or even a late Victoria/HOI Blackadder Goes Forth (my favorite season!)?
Hawkeye1489: I intend to do just that.
Enewald: In the first Blackadder episode, Henry Tudor escaped discovery by pretending to be a sheep in Edmund's bed, much to his mother's disappointment. Estonianzulu seems to know it well.
stnylan: What line is that?
robou: Once the story, and the game, start picking up pace, I will necessarily have to start moving away from the plot of the series. Considering this game will (hopefully) last a few hundred years, obviously a "next generation" of Blackadders will have to take over, and not necessarily with any Baldricks or Percys at his side. I certainly don't hope for it to be a constant stream of Series 1 references where the main character is the same sniveling coward again and again.
General_BT: Strangely, Baldrick has the best diplomacy rating of all my courtiers...
And my intention is to carry this game all the way through CK into either EU2 or EU3, into Vicky.
coz1:
February 19th, 1068
Edmund Blackadder sat at the small square table in the center of his bedchambers, broodingly plucking through two gold pieces, picking them up and dropping them again in his hand. He stopped as the door opened and Baldrick stepped in, carrying a tray of food and drink in his hands.
"Good afternoon, my lord," Baldrick said as he approached and set the tray down.
"Hello Baldrick," Blackadder grumbled, eyeing the food with only feigned interest. "You haven't seen Percy around, have you? I'm starting to think he got lost again."
"I have, my lord," Baldrick nodded. "He's off wooing' that new lady friend of his, singing to her through her bedroom window."
"Good Lord," Edmund rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly. "I've heard cats in heat singing prettier than Percy. She'll throw herself out her window rather than into his arms."
"What's that you got there?" Baldrick asked, pointing to the two coins in Edmund's hand.
"These represent the month's tax revenue of the entire Duchy of Cornwall, Baldrick. At this rate, I'll be able to afford the newest line of stylish cod pieces by the time I'm eighty."
"I dunno, my lord. Two gold pieces ain't that bad."
"Baldrick," Edmund sighed, eyeing his manservant disapprovingly. "King William sneezes up more gold after one of his drinking parties than I'm getting out of this land."
"Well, you could always tax the church," Baldrick suggested.
"No good. William made that stodgy Lanfranc Archbishop of Hampshire and he's been milking the Church dry. What about the county's industry? We could tax the fish mongers."
"All went out of business," Baldrick replied.
"Woodcutters?"
"Migrated to Rutland with the trees."
"Miners?"
"Too young."
"Well what can I bloody well tax in this god-forsaken cesspool to make a decent bit of cash!" Edmund demanded, hitting his hand against the table.
"Dirt-farmers, my lord," Baldrick declared matter-of-factly.
Edmund sighed and slumped his shoulders. "You expect me to levy a mud tax!? Oh, what's the point? I may as well have Percy serenade me to death..." he trailed off, his eyes widening and lighting up. "Baldrick, I have a cunning plan!"
"What's that then?" he responded, his anticipation evident.
"I'll get married!" Edmund declared. "All I have to do is find some bloated old noble with a daughter, get married, and reap of dowry off it!"
"You think anyone would want to give their daughter away to you?" Baldrick asked, immediately regretting the question.
"Why wouldn't they!?" Edmund snapped, slapping his servant across the back of the head.
"Well.... sounds like there'd be more profit in prostitution," Baldrick rationalized his question lamely.
"No good. The King already owns the prostitute monopoly."
March 8th, 1068
The great hall of Edmund's castle, rather forbiddingly titled Blackadder Hall, was stacked with piles of papers rising menacingly up toward the ceiling. Edmund was pacing back and forth, hands clasped at the small of his back.
"Edmund," Lord Percy Percy complained from his seat near the corner, hedged in by several paper stacks. "We've been searching for weeks now and the best candidate is that 70-year old Irish woman from Cork."
"I'm still on the fence with that one," Edmund muttered without breaking his step.
Baldrick emerged from behind another stack. "I dunno, that bearded lady you met last Thursday took a shine to you. You could marry her."
"Baldrick, for the last time: I am not marrying your mother!" Edmund snapped angrily, balling his fists. "Who would have thought finding a decent bride would be so hard. We've checked every court in Europe and the civilized world, and even sent a proposal to Scotland. Seems every noble is either dirt-poor or has a daughter like an outhouse! Maybe I should just settle for a lowly peasant...."
Baldrick's expression lit up and he opened his mouth to speak but Edmund cut him off before he could get a word in, "Who isn't your mother!"
"My lord!" Percy exclaimed. "You could ask the stork to bring you a wife!"
Edmund stopped in his tracks and stared at his old friend. "What?"
"Well, the stork brings babies," Percy explained, "so he's bound to have loads of women you could marry."
Edmund hesitated from responding immediately, considering his next words carefully. "Percy, it's really quite astounding how you manage to come up with these things. If that were actually true, we'd all be bastards!"
"But you are a bastard, my lord," Percy replied.
"The correct term is 'parentally challenged,'" Edmund retorted snidely. "By the way, what are all these papers doing here?"
"Oh," Baldrick responded. "Those are just letters from all the peope that want to marry Muriella de Graystoc."
"Who?"
"I think that's your steward," Percy interjected.
"Oh my God!" Edmund nearly screamed as he tore through the piles, reading the names of distinguished and wealthy nobles at the head of each paper. "Do you know what this means!? We've been sitting on the single-most sought-after woman in all of Europe! And she's single! Quick! Find her before she comes to her senses and runs off!"
Just as the trio of men were about to fling open the doors to the great hall trumpets blared in the distance and the castle’s rotund herald stepped in, nearly being bowled over by Edmund and his cohorts.
“An embassy from the King of Scotland requests an audience with you, my lord,” the boy announced, oblivious to nearly being trampled underfoot.
“Tell those flea-bitten skirt-wearers to come back another time,” Edmund retorted impatiently. “I have more….”
Edmund’s voice trailed away as a gigantic Scot, easily twice Edmund’s size and with a wild, red bushy beard consuming half his face and unkempt hair running down below his shoulders, entered the room behind the herald.
“Duke Edmund?” the Scot asked in a thickly-accented voice.
“Y-y-yes?” Edmund blubbered, completely intimidated by the Scot’s stature.
The Scot was stone-faced as he shoved the herald aside and stepped up to Edmund, who instinctively backed away. Suddenly, the Scot’s expression changed into a giant grin. “The King Malcolm Dunkeld has accepted your request for Lady Margaret Atheling’s hand in marriage. Congrats laddie! Hold on, I’ll go get her.”
Edmund stared dumbfounded as the Scottish ambassador vanished again down the corridor. Whirling around, he grabbed Percy by the shoulders. “Oh God, what have I done! I can’t be married to some stinking Scottish weasel! Quick, Percy, put on my clothes! Pretend to be me!”
“But my lord,” Percy protested. “I’m in love!”
“What does love have to do with marriage!?” Edmund replied as he began tearing off his black outfit. Before Edmund could get any further, the Scot returned, a beautiful raven-haired woman in tow. Edmund’s eyes bulged at the sight of the woman.
“Presenting Lady Margaret,” the Scotsman declared.
IGNORE the stork
“My lord,” the woman bowed respectfully.
“Hello, my lady,” Baldrick answered, taking his dirt-encrusted hat off and stepping in front of the speechless Edmund. “I’m Lord Edmund, Duke of…”
“Baldrick!” Edmund snapped viciously, shoving his servant roughly off to the side before sheepishly rearranging his disheveled clothes. “I don’t suppose you brought a dowry with too?’
Enewald: In the first Blackadder episode, Henry Tudor escaped discovery by pretending to be a sheep in Edmund's bed, much to his mother's disappointment. Estonianzulu seems to know it well.
stnylan: What line is that?
robou: Once the story, and the game, start picking up pace, I will necessarily have to start moving away from the plot of the series. Considering this game will (hopefully) last a few hundred years, obviously a "next generation" of Blackadders will have to take over, and not necessarily with any Baldricks or Percys at his side. I certainly don't hope for it to be a constant stream of Series 1 references where the main character is the same sniveling coward again and again.
General_BT: Strangely, Baldrick has the best diplomacy rating of all my courtiers...
And my intention is to carry this game all the way through CK into either EU2 or EU3, into Vicky.
coz1:
~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~
February 19th, 1068
Edmund Blackadder sat at the small square table in the center of his bedchambers, broodingly plucking through two gold pieces, picking them up and dropping them again in his hand. He stopped as the door opened and Baldrick stepped in, carrying a tray of food and drink in his hands.
"Good afternoon, my lord," Baldrick said as he approached and set the tray down.
"Hello Baldrick," Blackadder grumbled, eyeing the food with only feigned interest. "You haven't seen Percy around, have you? I'm starting to think he got lost again."
"I have, my lord," Baldrick nodded. "He's off wooing' that new lady friend of his, singing to her through her bedroom window."
"Good Lord," Edmund rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly. "I've heard cats in heat singing prettier than Percy. She'll throw herself out her window rather than into his arms."
"What's that you got there?" Baldrick asked, pointing to the two coins in Edmund's hand.
"These represent the month's tax revenue of the entire Duchy of Cornwall, Baldrick. At this rate, I'll be able to afford the newest line of stylish cod pieces by the time I'm eighty."
"I dunno, my lord. Two gold pieces ain't that bad."
"Baldrick," Edmund sighed, eyeing his manservant disapprovingly. "King William sneezes up more gold after one of his drinking parties than I'm getting out of this land."
"Well, you could always tax the church," Baldrick suggested.
"No good. William made that stodgy Lanfranc Archbishop of Hampshire and he's been milking the Church dry. What about the county's industry? We could tax the fish mongers."
"All went out of business," Baldrick replied.
"Woodcutters?"
"Migrated to Rutland with the trees."
"Miners?"
"Too young."
"Well what can I bloody well tax in this god-forsaken cesspool to make a decent bit of cash!" Edmund demanded, hitting his hand against the table.
"Dirt-farmers, my lord," Baldrick declared matter-of-factly.
Edmund sighed and slumped his shoulders. "You expect me to levy a mud tax!? Oh, what's the point? I may as well have Percy serenade me to death..." he trailed off, his eyes widening and lighting up. "Baldrick, I have a cunning plan!"
"What's that then?" he responded, his anticipation evident.
"I'll get married!" Edmund declared. "All I have to do is find some bloated old noble with a daughter, get married, and reap of dowry off it!"
"You think anyone would want to give their daughter away to you?" Baldrick asked, immediately regretting the question.
"Why wouldn't they!?" Edmund snapped, slapping his servant across the back of the head.
"Well.... sounds like there'd be more profit in prostitution," Baldrick rationalized his question lamely.
"No good. The King already owns the prostitute monopoly."
~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~
March 8th, 1068
The great hall of Edmund's castle, rather forbiddingly titled Blackadder Hall, was stacked with piles of papers rising menacingly up toward the ceiling. Edmund was pacing back and forth, hands clasped at the small of his back.
"Edmund," Lord Percy Percy complained from his seat near the corner, hedged in by several paper stacks. "We've been searching for weeks now and the best candidate is that 70-year old Irish woman from Cork."
"I'm still on the fence with that one," Edmund muttered without breaking his step.
Baldrick emerged from behind another stack. "I dunno, that bearded lady you met last Thursday took a shine to you. You could marry her."
"Baldrick, for the last time: I am not marrying your mother!" Edmund snapped angrily, balling his fists. "Who would have thought finding a decent bride would be so hard. We've checked every court in Europe and the civilized world, and even sent a proposal to Scotland. Seems every noble is either dirt-poor or has a daughter like an outhouse! Maybe I should just settle for a lowly peasant...."
Baldrick's expression lit up and he opened his mouth to speak but Edmund cut him off before he could get a word in, "Who isn't your mother!"
"My lord!" Percy exclaimed. "You could ask the stork to bring you a wife!"
Edmund stopped in his tracks and stared at his old friend. "What?"
"Well, the stork brings babies," Percy explained, "so he's bound to have loads of women you could marry."
Edmund hesitated from responding immediately, considering his next words carefully. "Percy, it's really quite astounding how you manage to come up with these things. If that were actually true, we'd all be bastards!"
"But you are a bastard, my lord," Percy replied.
"The correct term is 'parentally challenged,'" Edmund retorted snidely. "By the way, what are all these papers doing here?"
"Oh," Baldrick responded. "Those are just letters from all the peope that want to marry Muriella de Graystoc."
"Who?"
"I think that's your steward," Percy interjected.
"Oh my God!" Edmund nearly screamed as he tore through the piles, reading the names of distinguished and wealthy nobles at the head of each paper. "Do you know what this means!? We've been sitting on the single-most sought-after woman in all of Europe! And she's single! Quick! Find her before she comes to her senses and runs off!"
Just as the trio of men were about to fling open the doors to the great hall trumpets blared in the distance and the castle’s rotund herald stepped in, nearly being bowled over by Edmund and his cohorts.
“An embassy from the King of Scotland requests an audience with you, my lord,” the boy announced, oblivious to nearly being trampled underfoot.
“Tell those flea-bitten skirt-wearers to come back another time,” Edmund retorted impatiently. “I have more….”
Edmund’s voice trailed away as a gigantic Scot, easily twice Edmund’s size and with a wild, red bushy beard consuming half his face and unkempt hair running down below his shoulders, entered the room behind the herald.
“Duke Edmund?” the Scot asked in a thickly-accented voice.
“Y-y-yes?” Edmund blubbered, completely intimidated by the Scot’s stature.
The Scot was stone-faced as he shoved the herald aside and stepped up to Edmund, who instinctively backed away. Suddenly, the Scot’s expression changed into a giant grin. “The King Malcolm Dunkeld has accepted your request for Lady Margaret Atheling’s hand in marriage. Congrats laddie! Hold on, I’ll go get her.”
Edmund stared dumbfounded as the Scottish ambassador vanished again down the corridor. Whirling around, he grabbed Percy by the shoulders. “Oh God, what have I done! I can’t be married to some stinking Scottish weasel! Quick, Percy, put on my clothes! Pretend to be me!”
“But my lord,” Percy protested. “I’m in love!”
“What does love have to do with marriage!?” Edmund replied as he began tearing off his black outfit. Before Edmund could get any further, the Scot returned, a beautiful raven-haired woman in tow. Edmund’s eyes bulged at the sight of the woman.
“Presenting Lady Margaret,” the Scotsman declared.
IGNORE the stork
“My lord,” the woman bowed respectfully.
“Hello, my lady,” Baldrick answered, taking his dirt-encrusted hat off and stepping in front of the speechless Edmund. “I’m Lord Edmund, Duke of…”
“Baldrick!” Edmund snapped viciously, shoving his servant roughly off to the side before sheepishly rearranging his disheveled clothes. “I don’t suppose you brought a dowry with too?’
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TC Pilot said:
Hur hur. I wondered how long it would take for you to get to that joke
It appears Edmund didn't score too badly in the looks or the intelligence department with his wife... and look, she came pre-pregnant! :rofl:
Ahh...hilarity ensues when you wed the Blackadder search for a bride and his inevitable dissatisfaction with the one he winds up with alongside the CK issue of simply finding a suitable bride in the first place. And I believe you have the Edmund speech down. Good stuff.
The trees of Rutland are creating trouble again… I am not very surprised, the people and the trees of Rutland are all evil to our hero. Quit interesting to see Scotland agree to Edmund’s proposal, I just wonder if he is going to get cold feet and try to get out of the marriage, or maybe we shall see a cunning plan to just grab the money and lose the girl :rofl: