The Drottin Saga
by Jarl Sir Gregory of York
It was in the 22nd year of the Lemming warband during the reign of Good
King Guillaume the Garlic Eater that Snortorious Furious came out of the
south and put forth his case to be the new Drottin. "You're too short,"
commented an elder. "How could you see over the shieldwall?"
Another elder offered the opinion that a good Drottin should have at least
one bad knee or he might be tempted to run away when a battle looked doubtful.
"A man with a bad knee is a man you can trust to pull a rabbit out
of his, ah, well, from wherever he keeps it." "And what kind
of name is Snortorious, anyway. Sounds foreign."
"It's Byzantine," cried Snortorious, "and even though
my knees are good, I can still see over Greywolf so I could always stand
behind him."
"Hah!" Peregrynne grunted, eyeing a promising pasture and
wishing the foreign dwarf would go away.
"And I have many good qualities that you have overlooked."
Peregrynne glanced doubtfully at him and went back to scanning another
part of the pasture.
"I have some great tattoos," Snortorious said hopefully. Getting
no response he tried again. "I have three great war dogs: Psycho,
Crotch Seeker, and Braindead." No response. "I have Scotch."
"I'm listening," said Peregrynne, holding out his cup. Like
magic a dozen arms extended horns and cups toward the surprised Southman,
and after filling each one, he gamely continued his case.
"I have a beautiful wife with great tracts of land. She bought
me a longhouse as dowry. It is just downwind of a bakery and a dairy, so
the smell of sweet cream and crispy rolls is always in the air and it would
be a great place for the warband to pass long winter nights, and summer
ones too. Really, you could come over any time. UHHH," he cried as
a pointy elbow slammed several inches into his short ribs.
Looking over his shoulder he saw the dangerous glint in the eyes of
his beautiful wife, who was looking at him in much the same way that the
mother of an attractive fifteen-year-old girl looks at Leon when he escorts
her daughter home long after dark.
Sensing that both the conversation and the Scotch had run dry the Lemmings
wandered off and Snortorious was left pondering deeply as he massaged his
ribs.
"I think I can help you," said a soothing, earnest voice.
Suddenly, Snortorious was overcome with an urge to buy cheap glass beads,
low-grade copper trinkets, and shiny lead Afghan necklaces that shone like
dull silver.
"I have such a strange urge," Snortorious mused...
"Jesus. Another one," the soothing voice said. "Well,
no matter. Just remember these three things. You can trust me in all things.
The archery unit will always be the most important band in Drafn, and we
never had this conversation because I was somewhere else and just following
orders. Got it?"
"Huh?"
"Good. We understand each other. Now here's my plan. You just have
to have the votes to win this upcoming election."
"Ja, that's my problem. People like the old Drottin. He kills most
of the knights he fights, he shares his booze, and his lady has really
pert little..."
"Don't worry about those things. It's votes we need here. We got
Balin Finehair elected Captain-General even though he had good knees and
walked like the Queen of Hillcrest."
"Really?" called a Viking in tight-fitting mail and a pair
of lacy wings on his helmet.
"Go away, Thorgrimm. We're busy here."
"That's not what you said when you tried to sell me those earrings
last war."
"What I said then is not important now. This is politics. As I
was saying, Snortorious, it's votes. Any votes: Vikings, hausfraus, Valkyries,
trolls, dwarfs, your dogs, whatever."
"Hmm, I like the way you think. I'll try it. Whatever it is you
think we should do even though you were never here and we never had this
conversation."
Several moons later when the raised hands, claws, paws and hooves were
counted, Snortorious Furious had a clear majority of the votes and so won
the privilege of having his longhouse full of Vikings every night and of
being blessed with the knowledge that should anything go wrong from now
on, it would be considered his fault.
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