A Christmas present to my loyal following! The end of Scottish Pride!
And so we see Robbie bound to a small piece of earth for eternity, plowing in an endless circle. Poor bastard.
And what of Lilitu, now free to roam this new age? What revenge will she exact against the Order of the Templar and their heirs?
I’ll get to that another day perhaps.
I have to thank George MacDonald for planting the seed for Scottish Pride. Without his fine storytelling I doubt this story would ever have been written.
↓ Transcript
Page 10
Panel 1
The scene shifts to a large oak tree. Hanging from it is the possessed Robbie, his hands bound behind his back and his feet tied together. He looks like he’s taken a severe beating; his clothes are torn, covered in dirt and blood stains. He’s also been shot a couple of times. His punched up face has a wild, gleeful look as if he is thoroughly enjoying the situation. There is a local constable staring up at him, clearly angry at having to listen to his ravings. There is a saber in his hand and he looks ready to use it. A villager is also nearby, but has turned away in disgust.
Caption Man One: Twenty three. None pretty if ye get my meanin. Put the noose round his neck, heard he still wouldna die. Spewed all manner of unchristian curses, how his soul couldna be killed. They finally cut off his head.
Panel 2
Man one is rubbing his arm as he catches a chill. The second man is looking over at quizzically.
Man Two: Right cracked he was.
Man One: Wasn’t always so. Not till he destroyed the stones.
Man Two: Ye alright.
Man One: Caught a chill is all. Best be off.
Panel 3
The two men are walking away from the crater and are in the background. In the foreground we see Robbie’s spirit walking around the circle. His posture is bent; giving the impression his spirit is broken. Strapped across his chest is a harness pulling a battered plough. A pissed off look is on his face as he mutters away for eternity.
Robbie: Damn stone’s ruinin me field’s… shoulda taken care a them long ago. Wouldn’t be walkin round in circle would ah. No sir, neat rows. Neat rows, neat rows ah crops….
Man One: Ye sure yer wantin to buy the fields? Many say they’re cursed now…
Panel 1
The scene shifts to a large oak tree. Hanging from it is the possessed Robbie, his hands bound behind his back and his feet tied together. He looks like he’s taken a severe beating; his clothes are torn, covered in dirt and blood stains. He’s also been shot a couple of times. His punched up face has a wild, gleeful look as if he is thoroughly enjoying the situation. There is a local constable staring up at him, clearly angry at having to listen to his ravings. There is a saber in his hand and he looks ready to use it. A villager is also nearby, but has turned away in disgust.
Caption Man One: Twenty three. None pretty if ye get my meanin. Put the noose round his neck, heard he still wouldna die. Spewed all manner of unchristian curses, how his soul couldna be killed. They finally cut off his head.
Panel 2
Man one is rubbing his arm as he catches a chill. The second man is looking over at quizzically.
Man Two: Right cracked he was.
Man One: Wasn’t always so. Not till he destroyed the stones.
Man Two: Ye alright.
Man One: Caught a chill is all. Best be off.
Panel 3
The two men are walking away from the crater and are in the background. In the foreground we see Robbie’s spirit walking around the circle. His posture is bent; giving the impression his spirit is broken. Strapped across his chest is a harness pulling a battered plough. A pissed off look is on his face as he mutters away for eternity.
Robbie: Damn stone’s ruinin me field’s… shoulda taken care a them long ago. Wouldn’t be walkin round in circle would ah. No sir, neat rows. Neat rows, neat rows ah crops….
Man One: Ye sure yer wantin to buy the fields? Many say they’re cursed now…
