Ironstove

It was a cold winter's night in the wee village of the Ironstove clan. The matriarch, a shriveled old woman known as Hildis, was lying awake next to her fat, snoring husband named Angus. There hadn't been much going on in the village as of late, with the war going on and all, calling all able-bodied men to serve at the front. It had been quieter than a graveyard, night after night; every night, that is, except for this particular one.

With a loud crash and a bang, a band of drunken brawlers tumbled into the snoozing couple's humble abode, knocking things over and making a dreadful noise. They were a bunch of ill-mannered ruffians: that much was certain.

Hildis, lying awake and ever-vigilant, prodded her husband with her toes, urging him to get up.

'Angus! 'Oi, Angus!' she said in a hushed voice. 'Get yer lazy bum outtae bed! Thar be robbers in tae hoose!'

Angus grumbled some inaudible oaths and turned to his side, showing his back to his wife. 'Lemme sleep, wife!' Angus lamented, 'we've got nuthin' tae steal, anyhoo. We're as poor as tae dirt, tha' we are.'

'And who's fault tha' be?' Hildis hissed angrily. 'Besides, tha's nae tae point! When robbers invade yer hoose, yer s'pposed tae defend yerself!'

Angus stubbornly stayed in bed and started snoring even louder than before to demonstrate his point.

'Och! Fat lot 'o good ye are!' Hildis said. She nimbly jumped out of bed and cast a look of utter revulsion on her useless husband, who had become too fat to fit into his armor and too lazy to lift his warhammer.

The ruffians were tearing up the living room, trudging around in their muddy boots and making a mess out of things whilst trying to find something to loot. Hildis went trough the kitchen to arm herself with a rolling-pin and boldly stepped over the threshold to face them, holding her kitchen utensil aloft like a warhammer.

'Oi!' she shouted fiercely, 'what do ye lot think yer doin'!'

The band of drunken brawlers – four in total – dropped what they were doing and looked at the angry housewife.

'Go back tae bed, gramma,' one of them said in a slurred voice, 'ye dunnae wan' tae get raped, do ye?'

'Aye! Less rape 'er!' another shouted.

'Are ye mad? Look at 'er!' said another. 'I'd rather stick me dick in tae forge than lie wif a hag like da!'

The ruffians roared with laughter and approached the matriarch menacingly, brandishing their cheap weapons in the moonlight.

'Ach! Yer nae man enoogh tae lie wif' a lass like me!' the bold housewife bellowed defiantly, 'yer nothin' but a bunch 'o bums! Thar be a war goin' on – shouldn't ye be at tae front? Yer a bunch 'o good-fer-nothin' deserters, tha's wat ye are! Ye relly think I'd be scared 'o a bunch tha's too chicken tae fight fer their country? Ha! C'mon then, lads! I'll teach ye somethin' yer mommas forget tae teach ye!'

'O? And wha's tha'?' one of the ruffians asked.

'Manners!' Hildis shouted as she launched herself at one of the robbers. With swift and deadly strikes, she hit two of them on the noggin', no doubt promising two big bumps in the morning. One of the robbers tried to knock her over, but the housewife remained steadt as a mountain and grabbed the assailant with one arm, grappling him with ease and throwing him to the ground. One enemy remained.

'Yer a devil! A she-devil!' the last one shouted, shaking from head to toe. Rather than to help his buddies, the coward turned tail and fled trough the crashed-open door.

'Oi! Git back 'ere! We're nae finished!' Hildis shouted as she went into pursuit. The robber barely even managed to get out of the door before he was overtaken and hit in the back of the head by the merciless rolling-pin of justice. The drunken brawler shouted pathetically as Hildis dragged him back into house by his collar.

A few moments later, Hildis had all of the robbers lined up and bowing their head in supplication, like a bunch of naughty schoolboys confessing to the principle.

'An'? Wha' 'ave we learned?' Hildis asked them.

'Robbin' be wrong, m'am,' said one of the robbers.

'Tha's righ', robbin' be wrong,' said Hildis. 'So 'ere's what ye're gonna do tae make up fer it. First, yer gonna clean up all 'o tae mess ye've made. Startin' wif tae door.'

'B-but, m-m'am-'

'Nae buts!' Hildis shouted. 'Then, when ye're finished, yer goin' tae Ironforge tae enlist in tha' army. Ye've obviously got tae much life in ye tae be sittin' aroond in tae village. Do I make meself clear?'

'Y-yes, m'am,' the ruffians said in unison. They had been utterly defeated; not only had they been dominated physically by the old woman, they had also been completely overtaken morally. The way Hildis lectured them reminded them of their own mothers, whom they all loved very much. There was no possible way to resist this woman's authority. Her control over them had become absolute.

Much to the robbers' surprise, the conquerer herself took a broom and helped with the cleaning.

'Ye dunnae 'ave tae do tha', m'am,' said one of the robbers politely, 'we can take care of et.'

'Och! Wha' good is sittin' aroond watching ye do everethin'? I've got me arms still, haven't I? Nothin' ever good comes tae those tha' just orders others aroond without ever doin' ennethin' themselves. Remember tha', when ye move up in tha' army.'

'Aye, m'am!'

The next morning the house was cleaner than it had been in months. The four ruffians had all gone to visit their mothers before enlisting. The conquering matriarch had swapped her rolling-pin for a frying pan and cooked her husband some bacon and eggs for breakfast and served it to him on bed.

'Och, wife, yer tae good fer me,' Angus said when his wife waked him up with breakfast.

'Aye, tha' I am,' she said in agreement.