Apparently, I wasn't done for today and I got this beautiful instruction: https://youtu.be/HEor39iB7cM?si=A52JmNYOlAKFbLjj
I highly recommend it for everyone learning Procreate!
But when I was done with the picture, I thought: huh, that fire is perfect for some partisans to rest by…
So, meet the Birnamians!
From the left: Burro (former school teacher), Goatie (he's in charge), Ox (former farmer) and prince Lars Westergaard of the Southern Isles who *really* doesn't want to be there but has no other choice, sorry… 😛
Now, since the Southern Isles had a bad luck with being ruled by the Westergaards, something must have been done. Hence - the Birnamians. Now, these three are all former convicts - sentenced for twenty years of prison for stealing food from a castle. The Southern Isles’ judicial system is based on only one rule and it is “do as the king says” (just like in Arendelle, taking from the books - apparently both kingdoms slept on both Locke and Montesquieu), especially if something is deemed as a “crime against a crown” (and well, they were in the kitchen? So they totally could poison the food, right? So, a regicide attempt! No poison on them? Well, lucky them, if the guards would find any they would be executed on spot) so even if it was ridiculous, it still must have been carried on. They served their sentence in prison, yes, but also through hard labour - in stables. A crime against the crown must be repaid to the crown. They were there for seven years.
And then the pirates came. And Goatie had the luckiest night of his life, because the guards haven’t taken him back to the Citadel this one time. He was laying down in a cellar, beaten half to death, when the same cannonball which destroyed Hans’ wall - destroyed also his.
He ran. He spotted Sitron on meadows, running in panic. He took him with himself. They laid low for a few weeks in forests on the east side of the Isle. Then they have met their future Chief. And they were given a home and a purpose. A few weeks later, Ox and Burro were rescued from the stables too and the Birnamians were good to go.
And now, what is Lars doing here?
Well.
For three years Lars didn’t know what had happened with Hans. Then, a few weeks ago, a parrot came, wielding a letter regarding “a historical research” about a long-lost treasure. Now, Lars knows his little brother is alive *somewhere*. So he started to actively look for him, because he didn’t really believe the whole “pirate” thing. He spotted Sitron in the crowd one day. He waited patiently and then tried to capture the hooded rider, being 100% sure it is Hans.
It wasn’t. It was Goatie.
And well. As Goatie - who loves Shakespeare - has stated:
"It can’t be like this, Lars.” He approached, so the prince could see him better. “Your family is skinning us alive, we can be imprisoned in the Citadel for every minor thing and if someone can’t keep up with their work, one of your favours us personally with their presence and takes the last penny. Hans at least had a common decency to pretend he’s not enjoying it, but those twins are all happy to throw hands. We don’t want to live like this.” He crouched. “That day I have found a new home. And my purpose. This veiled woman… the first thing she told me to do, was to read “Macbeth”. Of course, after I confirmed I can read. And I can, because my father has taught me. I am almost sure you read it too, maybe you can cite it by heart. But me and everyone else here is obligated to know this one snippet:
“Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care
Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are:
Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until
Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill
Shall come against him.”
And you, of course, know what that means?”
“Great Birnam woods has come for Macbeth” Lars answered as he was back with his old teachers. “The rebel’s army, lead by Macduff, dressed their armors with branches, so they couldn’t be counted. In the distance it looked like the forest was marching towards his castle. Macbeth has perished and the throne was returned to its rightful king.”
Goatie nodded.
“The Southern Isles must bury their dead in the woods, and their king doesn’t even have a place to cram their gold anymore. Those bodies should be enough to make the trees rip their roots off the ground and march for you all. But well, even Shakespeare knew it is impossible. But well, that’s what a metaphor is. Meet us, Lars.” He nodded at his people; they jerked Lars towards the biggest hole in a wall and pushed against the edge; broken glasses fell from his nose, flying far, far, down. “We are the Birnamians.” Now Goatie was talking right into his ear. “And our question is… are you willing to carry your branch with us, or do you prefer to go for a little swimming practice?
“You can’t…!”
“Oh, of course we can. That weird, annoying historian prince went to do some field work in the old ruins and fell down. Oh. What a shame. Well, it happens. At least you will be buried in a sort of a family crypt. So, that’s your choice?”
“No!” He yelled when two of the others bent him further; he felt tears slipping from his cheeks.
“So, who’s it gonna be? Macbeth or Malcolm?”
“Please, you must understand…!”
“Decision, Lars, I don’t have all night.”
“I am with you! Alright, I am with you!”
- The Pirate of the Southern Isles, Chapter 58
In other words: either you are with us, or you are dead.
So now Lars not only has to worry about suddenly resurrected baby brother, but also for his own life - threatened from two sides, because if his father ever knows, well… that’s not only a crime against the crown, it is a high treason.
