₦airaland Forum

The Last Peasants Life

Night and day, sleeping in the small, uncomfortable peasant cottage lying beneath the shadows of the manor house. Dreaming, to be considered higher standards like a king, knight or noble.
During the day working on the peasant croft and common pastures. Watching the even lower serfs continuing their even more dreadful life working on the lords demesne.
Walking to the village church one day the church official. Yelling to get into the church. For I heard the flinging noise of the trebuchet’s and mongonel’s, we are under attack. “They’re coming from the woodlands,” said a man.
Looking out of the stain glass windows you can see a battering ram, followed by tortoises one after another. Siege towers are now reaching the walls. Now all you can here is people yelling for help. Mantlets are getting closer and closer. I decide to run.
Running for my life I see one building not being destroyed, the mill. Starting to feel safe I start to think about what will happen and I start to cry, I lost all whom I ever cared for. A few hours later, it was silent. I take a look out side to see that every thing is over nothing insight, but the death and rubbish.


This was a story I had to do for history class and felt like sharing it.