Monday, 23 December 2013

That Other Warhammer Fantasy Pamphlet

Gravin Clothilde von Alptraum's Thighs Open for Business!

A True Recounting of the Prostitution Of the Gravin.
As much as it PAINS this humble and modest speaker to REPORT it, there are many who SUSPECT that for some time now the GRAVIN CLOTHILDE von ALPTRAUM has been suitor'd by a STRING of base and crude fellows, with one such LOWLY and UNWORTHY knave standing tall in her AFFECTIONS.


This SWAIN, some time soldier in the Averheim State Forces – and most-like a DESERTER - is now a MENIAL of the Red Arrow Coach Company, where he was recently employed upon the task of walking the road to recover lost goods and chattels of WEALTHY and POWERFUL clients, who were nevertheless IMPOTENT to prevent their treasures being FORCED from them and their persons RAVAGED.

After a long and TEDIOUS journey through the gloomy forest, this SWAIN did happen to fall upon some BANDITS in those same woods, who CONSORT'D with DARK POWERS and did plot to rob the honest travelers upon the roads.

CREEPING softly into their camp, like unto one who is used to many NOCTURNAL assignations, he did find a SHADOWY spot and UNFURL his might WEAPON – six feet of STOUT WOOD – which he swiftly GREASED by spitting into his hand. Then, with his bow held ERECT, he pulled back his HOOD, took careful aim, and then did POUR OUT a FLURRY of STIFF bolts, EJACULATED forth, which did PENETRATE deep into the flesh of his foes until they all lay  PROSTATE upon the ground, PIERCED to the quick, and he then stood to, EXHAUSTED.

Then, seeing that one of these MUTANTS did have upon it's head a most PROUD HORN, of some great GIRTH and impressive LENGTH, he did stride over and – taking it firmly in his hands – judge its WEIGHT and HEFT. Having never seen one as BIG, he did decide upon the spot to FUMBLE in his trews for his trusty BALLOCK knife, with which he quickly parted the HORN from the head, and then STUFFED the thing ROUGHLY into his BULGING SACK.


Upon completion of his ERRAND the Swain did find himself in the dusty PASSAGES and musty CHAMBERS of the Gravin, who gave him a WARM welcome, WELL LUBRICATED with ale. There, he thought fit to make to her a GIFT of the UNBENDING horn which was the SPOIL of his VICTORY.

This the Gravin did receive by STRIDING over to the swain in a most IMMODERATE fashion, hanging about him with many cooed words, and CARESSING his cheek, so that those who watched were most SICKENED to behold it.

Then, FINGERING a scar upon the Swain's cheek she spake the following, or some such formulation: “Why, that deep GASH which was SMOTE upon your visage has healed well, thanks to my MINISTRATIONS – if only my own WOUND were not still DEEP & OPEN & waiting to be FILL'D.”

No doubt, this TESTIFIES to some prior and UNWHOLESOME relation between the two – and, who might say not some UNSAVORY night-time assignation too?  

And it is WHISPERED, amongst those who were there and did WITNESS it with their own eyes, that in return for the HORN which the Swain PRESENTED to her, the GRAVINE did surrender up unto this LUSTY hunter her SOFT little PURSE, contained within which was a priceless JEWEL – that is to say, for those who lack WIT and do need the allegory expounding to them, that she did CLEAVE unto him and give up her very VIRTUE, hereto UNSULLIED it is said by any man.


Already there are those amongst the so-called 'HIGH SOCIETY' of Averheim who are casting grave doubts upon the CHARACTER of Clothilda von Alptraum, and in turn upon the INFLUENCE which she wields with those – like CAPTAIN BAUERFAST – who might be easily taken in by her thinly plastered FACADE of virtue, like unto that white lead which the WHORES of 
 Averheim do paint their faces to DISGUISE the marks of the Pox.

It is clear that we cannot TRUST the future of this great CITY to such a STRUMPET as this Gravin!


Printed in Averheim

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