4.24.13

Forsooth-
A day of feasting and of games doth await. King Henry VIII hosts a joust, the likes of which has not been seen. Have you not heard of Sir Allyn, the most skillful and duplicitous of all knights? He rains terror upon his opponents and will not sheathe his sword until it has tasted of the blood of his most unfortunate foe. He is come to drive violence 'gainst Sir Heathcliffe, whose noble heart and righteous bearing impress us all.
The two shall game for points and prizes until Sir Allyn's dastardly ways show forfeiture to his victory. The rat, in his cheating, flies at Sir Heathcliffe and unhorses him. A fight breaks out! Blood falls warm upon the ground and seeps from the valiant Heathcliffe's veins. Shall this injustice go unnoticed? Nay--a duel to the death--to joust until fatal victory.
The dark Allyn and fair Heathcliffe clash upon another like the surf in a storm. Neither knight falls though lances shatter and horses froth. Until! Fortuitous strike drives terrible Sir Allyn to the ground. Unsatisfied with loss, Allyn takes axe and bootheel and drives Heathcliffe to his knees. The gasping onlookers cry at every resounding strike. But mighty HEathcliffe rises again! Allyn, the wretch, has a flaming weapon, the barest touch of which will sear our fair hero's courage as a brand. Skill comes to the champion of right, and he tears the madman's sword away with a whip. Again and again his strikes fall fast upon the wretched liar until like a beast, he is vanquished.
And yet--Sir Allyn rises to show us his bloody aspect. This cannot be, unless our knights be actors at the most glorious Georgia Renaissance Festival.
[I wrote this three years ago for the Photography final. I won the dot contest and got 150 of 150 points. There were some photo essays which were technically better than mine, but none were as interesting. Thank you, Ren Faire.]