Chronicles of England

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It was a gloomy, grey afternoon in rainy France. The castle in Caen, property of Guilleaume II, also know as WIlliam the Conqueror nowadays was hidden from the horizon by grey clouds and fog. The guard atop the wall was making his patrol cursing the weather as it was extremely windy, spats of rain falling here and there from all directions. A weather to be in the barracks, by the fire while drinking a fine pint of ale.
He peeked over the wall in a few directions, and noticed a few dots in the distance. As he kept gazing, the dots grew in size rather big, so they must be closing in a hurry. He pinched his eyes trying to distinguish the banners they carried, wondering who they were. After a few moments more, the banner became clear and his eyes flew wide open.
He started yelling for the gates to open, for Lord Robert was approaching.

It took a while for anythign to happen, yet the castle turned from a quiet sleepy painting into a busy ant's nest.

Robert took in the image of Castle Caen as he approached at a fast gallop. Normally the sight alone would be enough to lighten his spirit, but not this day. His mood at spread through his compagny, which had made for an uneasy and quiet ride for the most of them. Robert didn't care.
His thoughts were with the 'First King's Council' - and as far as he was concerned the last - and what had transpired there.
He had made his proposals - genuinely believing the ration and forebearance his proposals entailed would be reckognised - but had been rebuffed completely by his father and, worse still, his youngest brother. Not even a man!
At first, the silence of William Rufus, had been regarded as a bliss by Robert. Until one of his servants reported the first draft of the Kings annals. William to be bestowed with the title of Count, with all concerned lands... No wonder he had said nothign in the council! He probably had been smirking behind Roberts back the whole time. That he had voted against Roberts proposals said enough.

Robert had had enough. If they preferred to leave him to fend for himself, fend for himself he would!
He rode through the gates of Caen, thunder on his face and lightning in his eyes.

The castle wished it could return to the quiet,sleepy painting which it had been not so long ago.