Work Text:
This piece was donated to the Dundonian Public Archives as part of the “Remembering the Day” project, which was sanctioned by Queen Iona McDougall and serves to remind us all of how shockingly quickly a mad sorcerer almost took control of the entire Kingdom of Fife.
1192.12.31: Pending removal from the archives. Reason: “irrelevant; falsified account”
The darkest year in the kingdom’s history, some say, when the Dark Wizard took over Dundee and most of the Kingdom of Fife and reigned for several months of darkness before he was finally defeated by “the great hero” Angus McFife, yada yada yada.
You know, maybe it was the darkest year -- for the nobility, or somethin’. But fer a farmer like meself? It wasn’ that bad.
Sure, the invasion of Dundee was quite terrifying. I was lucky I hadn’t gone into town on that day -- I had been sick, an’ the girls didn’ want me keelin’ over on the side of the road or anything -- else I surely would have ended up among the dead (undead?). Instead, we just ‘eard the unicorns storm past in the distance as dark clouds gathered above the city. The fields got a bit singed, but given that the early frost had ruined part o’ the harvest anyways, it wasn’ like we had much more t’ lose.
It was a weird day. Scary, too; everyone was scared, even the other farms. We didn’ hold market on that day. But the next day? The skies cleared, the sun came out, and if you ignored the plumes of smoke still coming fro’ the city, it wasn’t much different than a normal day. The day after that wa’ the same, and the day after that too, an’ eventually we got on with our lives again. Bigges’ difference was that no one showed up fer our taxes, really.
Hell, would you believe tha’ the undead unicorns did us a favor an’ fertilized the entire fields? And how! ‘Twas long past growin’ season, but suddenly overnight there were crops ripe for pickin’ everywhere! We worked almost day an’ night to harvest all of it, an’ what feasts we had for dinner, those surely rivaled those in the fancy citadel!
Halfa month in or so, we had a knock on our door. It was an odd knock, we weren’ expecting visitors, so I opened it meself while the girls stayed in the back o’ the house, just to be safe. Ye can imagine, when I saw a demon in spiky armor outside, I damn near screamed loud enough t’ send the bastard back to whaever bloody hell ‘e came from! But nae, I didn’ scream, and good thing I didn’t because I woulda never expected wha’ the demon had to say. It was so shockin’ I remember i’ as if ‘twere yesterday!
“Greetings, mortal. I had been sent here by the Dark Lord to examine your living conditions. Step aside and allow me in so I may complete my report.”
Did I step aside? Nae! The demon looked bored and pushed me o’er as if I weighted nothin’! Rude. Then it went in, walked aroun’ the house, made some huffy noises, an’ took out a small stone that engraved itself when the demon made some raspy-clicky noises at it. I wanted t’ get my axe an’ chase it out, but the demon didn’ even look at my girls, so I decided it could live.
What was weirder was when the demon chose to return to the front door, lean against the doorframe, an’ insult my family home.
“Your living conditions are woefully subpar under the Dark Lord’s orders. They will be improved tomorrow.”
I tried to tell it that I ain’t movin’ from me farm, but it left and shut the house door in me face.
The next day, the girls an’ I woke up to our home havin’ doubled in size, the outhouse havin’ dwarven pipin’, an’ our roofs and windows and doors no longer leakin’. Oh, an’ there were big winged bat-demons outside rebuildin’ our barn from scratch.
‘Twas the most excitin’ thing that happened; I’ve nae seen the girls so happy. Well, maybe besides a few weeks later, when the inspection demon showed up again (this time, I stepped aside and offered it tea) an’ did an inspection, which was followed immediately by the arrival of a crew tha’ added a dwarven pump to the well that could pump on its own, plus some more dwarven piping an’ all. They were very happy then, too.
It was the best months of our lives, really.
Almost a shame when we heard abou’ the wizard’s fall. The girls were especially sad about it. Said they’d find a way to help him some day. (Wha’ am I mean’ to say to that? I can’t tell ‘em not to.)