Marlon
The years following the Norman invasion were definitely not pleasant, religious persecution, witch hunts, uprising, and wars, saw people killed by the thousands. What's more there was no football, so all anyone had to look forward to was death, in one of a thousand painful ways.
In fact, there were only a few ways of surviving to old age.
Marlon was the great nephew of Hugh and lived in the very same castle that his great uncle had lived in when he moved to England. At this time, he was fifteen years old and worried about dying young, so he sought the advice of his grandmother Ethel. Ethel was in her seventies, I guess you would describe her as a wise old hag.
"You could become a hermit and live in a cave on a remote Scottish island," She offered.
"Yuk!"
"Well then, you could become a monk and live in a monastery on a remote Scottish island."
"Yuk!"
"Well, er, you could become a sheep farmer and live in a croft on a remote Scottish island."
"Yuk! Can't you think of something that doesn't mean going to a remote Scottish island? I really hate cold, wet, lonely, boring, remote Scottish islands."
"Well, oh, yes, you could pretend to be totally loony and write daft stories, then everyone will just ignore you. Only trouble is you'll have no chance with the ladies, they hate loonies, you'd be better off with the sheep."
"Yuk!"
"Well then Marlon, the only alternative is to make sure that you frighten the pants off everybody else, then they will steer well clear of you. Come with me, I want to show you something your uncle Roger was given by a wondering gypsy when he was just your age."
Ethel lit a torch and took Marlon through a secret door beside the living room fireplace, as they walk down a dark passage Ethel spoke.
“No one else knows about the secret door or this passage, it leads to a room deep under the dungeons below the castle. Keep very quiet, we don't want anyone to hear us.”
It was a long walk that took them down several spiral staircases and along long narrow passages. Eventually, they entered a large room, Ethel lit several more torches around the walls and Marlon could then see that the room was filled with lots of boxes, cabinets and all manner of other strange things.
"This is a most secret place," Ethel whispered, "you must never tell of this place, to do so will most certainly cost you your freedom, for this is Rogers' Magical Kingdom!"
"Er, excuse me gran, are you going to suggest that I become a wizard?"
"Yes, of course Marlon, it makes perfect sense."
"Now gran, excuse me for being a little bit doubtful about this plan, but don't wizards and witches get drowned in the moat on the last Friday of every month?"
"No, don't be silly Marlon, those aren't real wizards and witches,
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