GOT2: Terryon's Gun

II

For 10 days and 10 nights the blacksmith toiled, groaning, while Lord Terry screamed instructions and sluiced cold wine over his back and face to keep him awake. 'This is for your freedom!', he bellowed, 'build my vision!'. His words were obscure and intimidating. The blacksmith wept and retched as the genius dwarf wailed on his back with a length of pipe.

Finally the work was complete, and Terryon snatched from the broken blacksmith's hands the fruits of his labour - a curious metal device, like a fat hollow sword with a clasp and a thick handle. He stood, swaying like a drugged clown, wild-eyed, as the dirty slaves and merchants gathered around him.

'Behold!' he rasped, thrusting his creation aloft, 'my sweet gun, bane of the living, son of my mind'. Terryol swiveled and aimed at the crowd who cowered, baffled. Suddenly a couple of familiar faces stepped forward - Sir Jonah with the grey arm, and the pretty assassin.

'What is this shit?' demanded Jonah, for all the townspeople to hear. 'Perhaps', sniped Lord Tyrron, 'you would like to know all about my gun? Well, let me tell you, it is a beauty, and it will mess you up like a wild animal.'

Sir Jonah was suspicious. 'This is no match for good steel and a cunning wit', he croaked. The pretty assassin agreed and said some bullshit. Terryon just laughed because he knew he was right, but he knew they would not understand until he showed them what was what. 'Join me', he said, 'and I will show our beloved Queen and once she knows, you will know too, you idiots.'