Albert1434

Aloha All 🙂

Were having for dinner tonight Beef Pad Thai with peanuts!

How rude but coming from Devil boy guess he would know these things from his own face! Could you spray that with some room fresher.

These would be prefect for your tank Gary there clam they do not dig and they breed easy Kribensis Cichlid and they nice looking fish.

Aloha Chris

Aloha Gary how the tank go? 😁

Aloha Dughlas how are you and mom today good I hope!

Aloha Bucket 😁

Now that's a scare thought!

Aloha All 😁

Thank you so much for sharing this — your enthusiasm is a gift to any storyteller. It’s wonderful to hear that you’ve grown attached to Kaylen and his small band of Wynthorpe defenders. They may be few in number, but they carry the kind of resolve that can tilt the balance of a much larger storm. As for what awaits them at morning’s first light… the French host is vast, confident, and certain of its advantage. Kaylen’s riders are cold, outmatched, and riding on loyalty, instinct, and the thin thread of hope that their courage might buy England a little more time. Dawn will test each of them in ways they cannot yet imagine, and not all trials come at the point of a blade. I’m delighted that Beric’s moment stood out to you. His doubts — and the way the others answer them — reveal the quiet heart of this tale. It’s in those small exchanges, those flickers of fear and defiance, that the true shape of a company is forged. Sometimes a single line between comrades can matter as much as any clash of armies.

Thank you for such a vivid and thoughtful review. You’ve captured the tension around Thornmere perfectly. The French may believe the path forward is simple, but as you noted, Thornmere is far more than a strategic point on a map—it’s a living stronghold of loyalty, grit, and hidden depths. Your reflections on Louis’s choices are spot‑on. Whether he presses on through exhaustion or retreats to gather strength, every step he takes is shaping the fate of both armies. The countryside won’t make his march easy, and tired men rarely move without consequence. Thornmere’s defenders know this well. I’m thrilled the story pulled you into the uncertainty of the coming conflict. There’s much more to uncover within those walls—and in the fens beyond.

When men of another land stand upon your own hearth, you learn swiftly that to rise and fight is not merely a choice, but your lone chance at survival. Those who march beneath Louis’s banner do so for coin or ambition alone, not for the welfare of the folk they ought to defend. Loyalty and honor may bind a sword to its cause and steady the hand that wields it, yet they promise no victory—only that, if death comes, it shall be a righteous one.

Spiders never lie!

Kaylen, Ronan, and Thomas stood ready—clean, well fed, and restored from the last march. Their armor was set, their blades sharp, and their resolve steady. Kaylen moved among them with quiet authority, reminding them that Louis would strike at dawn. Beyond the walls, the French campfires smoldered, a warning of the battle to come.

Thank you for the thoughtful summary. Aye, this chapter is meant to show Kaylen under immense strain, yet refusing to yield to fear. His words to the knights are forceful because he knows the realm stands on a knife’s edge—if they falter now, Louis’s advance will sweep through the keep by dawn. His counsel to Ronan and Tomas is quieter, more personal. He sees their fear as well, but he also sees the steel growing in them. The French campfires on the horizon are not just a threat; they’re a reminder that the boys he trained must now stand as men. And yes—the attack at first light is inevitable. This night is the last breath before the storm breaks.

Woot they say we may get snow and rain next week ok Gary do your rain dance! By the way do you do that in the nude?

So funny your starting to sound like Drew!

Good Luck with that may it go well!

Aloha Dughlas how are you and Mom doing?

Aloha All

Knight and Squire The Kneeling in the Rain In the Year of Our Lord 1216, July the Fourth The sun had scarcely lifted above the eastern hills when the keep’s grey towers came fully into view. Morning mist clung to the valley, veiling the stone walls as though the fortress itself hesitated to reveal what awaited within. Ronan urged his horse forward. “Master, the gates stand open.” Tomas frowned. “Open at this hour bodes ill. Either tidings has

Lewis run while you still can

catfish are a good one