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/!\ Disclaimer /!\
The text contains explicit/vulgar language (and also spelling/grammar errors ^^”)
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Sometimes King Conrard mingles with the locals to "escape" his royal responsibilities for a few hours or days and like Clark Kent, no one recognizes him without his crown and his rich outfit.
Only a few "chosen ones" know about this masquerade and do not reveal anything about that. Conrard pretends to be a member of the Royal Guard and calls himself Edward (a pseudonym used during his military service).
Pretending that he's in rest is a good alibis to explain his temporary presence and enjoy the pleasures of life. (beers, games, parties, ... you know)
He often goes to the Stilt village because it's one of the places of the island where there are a lot of travelers and less chance of him being discovered. - it's too the place where there's always an animation.There is no getting around it.
Old Boris' tavern is the perfect place for this: the alcohol flowing, helping to get some tongues wagging. People talk about everything and nothing. Especially nothing. Conrard was sitting at his usual table, enjoying his beer freshly served by Delia, the charming daughter of the patron of the establishment.There is nothing exciting tonight: No women, a lot of regulars, most of them already drunk, bellowing, belching incomprehensible songs. Nothing.
He continues to drink his mug and doesn't notice newcomers who settle in quickly, loud and hilarious as the others persons. A dozen individuals with outfits that differ greatly from the local population as well as their well-spoken dialect: pirates. No no, not merchants or fishermen but pirates. Conrard finally notices them and sighs into his mug. These "sailors" can come to his island because of the "rare resources" they bring. But there's no denying it: they can also be a source of trouble because things can quickly get out of hand for no reason. Fortunately, it is rare that it goes beyond a good fight. Thanks to the militia placed all over the port. The incognito king half-listens with one ear to their grotesque elucubrations and to focus his attention on Delia, busy serving for the 9th time Joey, the most faithful customer of the establishment, slumped on the table like the wreck he was at the moment. Sad spectacle.
"------ Na but the king is just a barroom loafer !" The person concerned turns towards the voice that dared to say this sentence, somewhat circumspect and incredulous. It's one of the famous pirates: small, skinny, with a big nose, pale as a sheet and as hairy as a newborn's buttocks. A contrast to his other colleagues. "You can't say that." says one of them, "We're going to get arrested !” “And why ?! Do ya think HE'll come here ? Surrounded by his pitiful militia ? Pfff ! NEVER ! He's a coward ! A shitie loser who doesn't inherit his throne !" Breathe in, Breathe out. Conrard tries to ignore what the man says. This isn’t the first time he has been "spat on". And not the last. The midget continues his monologue of his hatred against the royalty, of this island which is filled only of innumerable happy simpletons to be governed by an incompetent. The habit. Breathe in, Breathe out. "Barf ! I'm willing to bet he's never fought ! That he doesn't know the difference between a butter knife and a sword ! Speaking of sword, I can swear he's never straddled the queen ! Since they've been married, they don't even have a kid ! He must not know which one's the good hole !" The bandits start to have a good time except for one of them, the same one that intervened earlier. "Gerald, stop ! We're going to get in trouble with your bullshit ! " "Roooh Com'on ! What do ya want to hap---" He didn't have time to finish his sentence that the Gerald in question ends up being thrown against the nearest wall as well as the table and his companions. And before he can react, a monstrous fist hits a few centimeters above his head, cracking the wall. The other hand of his attacker grabs his tunic to force him to look straight into his eyes. Bright and threatening green eyes. "Dare to repeat to me all the shit that comes out of your fucking mouth.” Gerald tries to retort, to persuade himself that he divides. It can't be King Conrard who is standing in front of him. No ! Impossible ! Until an object catches his attention, around the neck of his assailant. A priceless necklace made of a rare gemstone and a thick chain in pure silver. Only one person could afford such a jewel in this place. The pirate understood. He begins to cry, panicking from this revelation. He tries to beg for mercy from his tormentor and for help from others. Nobody reacts to what is happening. They had also understood who poor Gerald had to deal with and couldn't help him even if they wanted to.
Did they at least want it ?
