The Pigknuckles

Near the town that would soon be called Thermogate lived an old farmer. Phil Pigknuckle was his name. He made his living keeping … chickens. Phil Pigknuckle was a widower, left to take care of his five daughters after his wife succumbed to the fever a few years prior. From eldest to youngest, Catherine, Agnes, Patricia, Polly and Morgan were all beautiful young ladies. Some with red hair like Phil the others with black hair like their mother. All with hazel-green eyes, as unique and beautiful as their dead mother’s. The girls would travel together all over the lands surrounding the budding new town. They would do anything to stay away from their father as much as possible.

The town that wasn’t a town yet was made up of a large refugee camp of survivors of the Zephramachy. People had moved inland – for the chance at a fresh start and a new beginning after so much destruction. Little Morgan weaved through the midday market crowd. Her jet black, middle-back-length ponytail, and a heart-shaped necklace flow behind her as she sprints too fast for her sisters to catch her.

“Morgan! Come back her Morgan!” Catherine struggles and just misses the sprite little Morgan repeatedly. “Morgan! We have to get back to the house before Pappa misses us!” Morgan’s laughter serves as an audible beacon, allowing Catherine to keep her darting toddler sister in view. Finally, Catherine summons the last of her energy to lunge out of her sprint and grasp the youngster’s tiny smooth porcelain-colored hand. “Gotcha!” Catherine says with a loud chuckle, which mimics the giggles coming from her bubbly baby sister.

Just as they come to a stop, an exhausted Agnes huffs to a halt just behind her elder and younger sisters. “Sorry Cathy!” Agnes pants between each word as she struggles to catch her breathe. “I promise, I only took my attention off of her for a second.” Catherine stands up to her full height as she picks up baby Morgan and pivots to face her flustered younger sister. “A second is all it takes, Agnes.” Catherine’s eyes start out with a piercing firmness, but she softens as she makes eye contact with free-spirited yet remorseful Agnes. “I’m so sorry Cathy,” Agnes says as she drops her head to break eye contact. “A second is all it takes Aggy. And you know pappa would punish you.” Catherine opens the palm of her free hand and places it under Agnes’s chin, raising it skyward.

“But I am here to keep you outta trouble,” Catherine winks over at a know relieved Agnes. “Okay, home then?” Agnes looks over her shoulder as she turns to begin a brisk walk toward the exit of town. Catherine, still carrying baby Morgan, follows close behind. The heart-shaped necklace that Morgan wore dangles from her neck as it brushes up against the front of Catherine’s slightly dingy frock. The diamond at the center of the amulet dazzles in the early afternoon light.

The girls’ dying mother made “Pappa” Pignuckle promise to place it around the neck of the newly born Morgan as soon as she was old enough. The ruby that comprises the jewel portion of Morgan’s amulet was expertly chiseled into the shape of a heart – a human heart. A silver-colored metal was hammered to resemble veins, covering the four chambers of the jeweled representation of an organ. In turn, a gold-colored metal has been shaped to represent the chambers’ arteries. The diamond rests directly at the center of heart-shaped jewelry, wrapped and held in place by the blood-vessel-shaped metals of both hues. The girls made it home soon enough to only slightly irritate their “Pappa.”

Old Pigknuckle was not a good man, as his five daughters could attest. He would swindle anyone stupid enough to seek to barter with him for his chickens. Pigknuckle had won the original five hens of his farm in a card game, he cheate of course. Pigknuckle would always overcharge for purchase of his livestock. And whoa be the fool that attempted to call Ole Pigknuckle out for his ways. Catherine would often be called on to help “Pappa” put things in his personal “stew.” The repugnant Pigknuckle would even call on his elder two daughters for “lady favors” at night while the others slept. Needless to say, the girls relished every chance to be away from the farmer’s shack at the edge of the Begroner Bog.

One typical morning the toddler, baby Morgan, played near the edge of a “boggy” pond behind the family’s home— as Agnes picked flowers. Agnes needed some way of distracting her mind from the hell she found herself trapped in every day. She didn’t notice as Morgan ventured to the edge of the pond and began to look at her own reflection. Agnes did not see as the necklace around baby Morgan’s neck began to glow, with the light brightest at the center, where the diamond rested. Agnes sniffed the fragrance of the blooms as Morgan’s reflection came alive and gestured for the youngest girl to come closer to the water’s edge. Agnes was not aware of the small whirlpool that began to spin at the little one’s feet. And when she turned to check on her beloved baby sister, she had no idea where she had disappeared to. Agnes was mortified. She knew that “Pappa” would kill her if anything had happened to “his property” while she was looking after “it.”

So, she ran.

“I will just go to the north.” Agnes had heard of powerful warlocks that made their home frozen wilds of the Glacial Wastes. Maybe they could teach her some magic and she could come home and rescue her remaining sisters from “Pappa.” Agnes knew she was putting her siblings in danger by leaving. But she had to save herself.

It isn’t hard to conclude that Ole man Pigknuckle was quite angry at the absence of two of his daughter. He blamed the eldest remaining sister. “I’ll deal with you when I come home from market,” snarled the sinister Pigknuckle as he slammed the door behind him.

Catherine knew what would happen to her if she did not escape. “He’ll put me in that damned pot!” Thinking quickly the teenaged Pigknuckle extinguished the fire under “Pappa’s stew” and hid behind a shelf in the room for the old man to come and investigate. It did not take too long for Ole Pigknuckle to come and investigate why his favorite “stew” was not still simmering.

Now was her chance …

As the old man leaned over the pot, trying to figure out “just what the hell is going on around here,” Catherine sprung to action. In one swift motion the eldest child ran in and lifted her frail father’s frame from the ankles. Finding strength that she didn’t know she had, she dumped old Pigknuckle into a pot of his own stew!

Cathy did not think anyone would believe that she hadn’t killed her father in cold blood, so she ran.

“I bet I can make it to the bearded shamans,” Catherine exiled the thought out loud as she began to move with pace. She had heard of a tribe of Yak-men to the far south of the Kilele Peaks. Maybe the tribes’ “holy men” could teach her great magic, if she proved a worthy student. Cathy knew she was possibly leaving her two remaining sisters to die, but she had to save herself.

Polly and Patty came home soon after Catherine left for the Yak tribes. The house was dark, cold and empty. Being the elder of the two, Polly had been taught how to light the fire under “Pappa’s stew” pot. She knew that would shed some light into the room. After lighting the fire under the pot the two remaining girls sat and waited for the other sisters or their “Pappa” to return. Hour after hour turned into day after day. It wasn’t long before Polly and Patty became so hungry until they began to become really weak. They both started to stare at they father’s pot. “He won’t mind,” whispered a starving little Patty.

The two little Pigknuckles worked together to set up the dining table and scoop out chunks if meat into bowls. The two little sisters had never eaten so well. “This is delicious Polly! I see why Pappa wants to keep this all to himself,” shouted Patty. The two little girls survived on the “stew” for the next few weeks before eventually having to travel into town.

So goes the tale of the fall of the Pigknuckles. Soon comes the tales of Turtleback Patty Pigknuckle, Rotten Polly Pigknuckle, Auntie Agnes Iceybottom, Cackling Cathy Bonechewer. No one ever found out what happened to the mysteriously missing Morgan.