The Court of Spades, part 8

The Wortbad Tales

Whan that Ignus with his shoures soote,

The droghte of Huntygn hath perced to the roote,

And bathed every veyne in swich licóur

Of which vertú engendred is the flour;

Whan Hysh eek with his swete breeth

Inspired hath in every holt and heeth

The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne

Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne,

And smale foweles maken melodye,

That slepen al the nyght with open ye,

So priketh hem Natúre in hir corages,

Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,

And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,

To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;

And specially, from every shires ende

Of the Harrowmark, to Wortbad they wende,

The hooly blisful martir for to seke,

That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.

Bifil that in that seson on a day,

In Gallowmire at the Gryph-hound as I lay,

Redy to wenden on my pilgrymage

To Wortbad with ful devout corage,

At nyght were come into that hostelrye

Wel nyne and twenty in a compaignye

Of sondry folk, by áventure y-falle

In felaweshipe, and pilgrimes were they alle,

That toward Wortbad wolden ryde.

The chambres and the stables weren wyde,

And wel we weren esed atte beste.

And shortly, whan the sonne was to reste,

So hadde I spoken with hem everychon,

That I was of hir felaweshipe anon,

And made forward erly for to ryse,

To take oure wey, ther as I yow devyse.

~ ~ ~

(Apologies to Geoffrey Chaucer)

The Grymwatch are such a characterful band of Crypt Ghouls I couldn't resist them. I wanted to make them blend in with the rest of the Grail Pilgrims so they all got greenstuffed rotting fabric robes - some more than others. The paint job was fairly rapid and loose and there a few things I need to tidy up but I'm happy enough with them.

This world nys but a thurghfare ful of wo,

And we been pilgrymes, passynge to and fro;

But deeth nys not the ende of every worldly soore.