User:Klonimus/Seamus mitwurst

Seamus Mitwurst, nee Schinkenwurst, was the progenitor of the Mitwurst clan of the middle forests of southern Bavaria. Seamus, son of Beamish, was born sometime between 1224 A.D. and 1227 A.D. He was originally of the Schinkenwurst clan, but married into the Mitwurst clan sometime around age 15. At the time of his betrothal he renounced his birthname to take on the surname of his new wife, Fettina. Though it is not widely recognized, the forest-people of southern Bavaria were, until the reign of Seamus, a matrilinial society, thus explaning why Seamus took the name of Fettina instead of vice versa.

Seamus' early years are shrouded in mystery. We do know that Beamish was married to Bettruna and made a handsome living as a medieval mycologist, thus ensuring that Seamus grew up lacking for none of the luxuries to be found in medieval villages. Apparently, however, Beamish’s skill as a mycologist was not absolute, as both he and Bettruna died from “en evylle stoole” shortly before Seamus’ marriage. Beyond these minimal facts, nothing else is known of Seamus’ childhood.

Seamus and Fettina are thought to have married in the spring of the year 1241. For two years, they lived quietly with Fettina’s parents, Gurharth and Gartrina. Gurharth taught Seamus the ancient art of Wurstmachen, or sausage-making, and the family was content. This peace, however, came to an end in the fall of 1243 when Boleslaw V the Chaste, the King of Poland, entered southern Bavaria on a boar hunting excursion.

Few animals are more majestic than the wild boar of southern Bavaria. Standing a good 3 feet at the shoulder with an aquiline snout and ferocious tusks, the wild boar presents a stunning image of natural strength and beauty. It also tastes quite good when prepared as ham and wurstchen. Because the wild boar of southern Bavaria is at its fattest and tastiest in the fall, Boleslaw the Chaste undertook a boar hunting trip into the wild woods sometime in fall of 1243.

As legend has it, Boleslaw took a small hunting party into the Bavarian hinterlands. He left his encampment early one morning to hunt for wild boar in one especially wild and verdant ravine. Armed with nothing but a 14 foot lance and a boar-pricker (a 12-inch steel blade with a blood groove or fuller), he plunged into the thicketed crevasse. In the early morning light, surrounded by foliage, Boleslaw had to hunt primarily by ear. Fortunately (or unfortunately in this case), the wild boar of southern Bavaria is not a silent beast. It’s favorite food is the Bavarian begrabentruffle, which grows between the exposed roots of the mighty larch. In hunting and digging for this tasty morsel, the wild boar can make a tremendous din. One eminent zoologist reports that the boar in mid-hunt sounds like “the 4:00 express to Newhampton colliding with a hot-air balloon.” Another is quoted as saying, “If I hadn’t known it was a truffle-hunting boar I was listening to, I’d have thought that someone had just dropped a trumpeting elephant from Parliament’s roof.” Needless to say, the wild boar of southern Bavaria makes quite a ruckus and this is what Boleslaw was listening for.

On that fateful morning, however, Gartrina had left the hovel early to pursue her “morning constitutional”. A grand feast of Gurharth’s best wurstchens and fricassee of asparagus the night before had left her feeling a bit pressured, and she walked down the family ravine to ease her suffering. The details are best left unreported, but Boleslaw was recorded later as saying “Ich neffer herde sych e puffinge und e brawying es thet morgen. Ich dacht es wert a fressing boare.” We can only assume this means that Boleslaw mistook Gartrina’s exertions for those of a feeding boar and, denied any other clue by the masses of vegetation, jabbed at her with his mighty lance. Gartrina’s howls woke both Gurharth and Seamus, and they found her slumped against a tree, pierced in her ample left buttock. Boleslaw the Chaste, under the impression that he had speared some screeching demon, fled back towards his camp. Gurharth and Seamus, pursued him, hitting him with rocks and sticks. At the camp, Boleslaw’s party drove Gurharth and Seamus away with a volley of arrows and then fled back through the Czech forests to Poland.

Gartrina survived for a week after the attack, but ultimately succumbed to “evyle vapers” resulting from her ignominious wound. Seamus, having now lost three of his four parents, swore revenge. He called a great meeting of the tribes of southern Bavaria and formed what has become known as the Wurstmachersmacht, or the Sausage Makers Army. This brave band of ragtag yeoman marched into Poland, laying waste wherever they went. For 5 long weeks, they sought the head of the unfortunate Boleslaw. Lacking good information, they could not know that he had retreated to his winter redoubt at Mzeracwzlawslaus. Empty-handed, running low on nourishing wurstchen and with winter fast-approaching, Seamus and his warriors returned to the forests of southern Bavaria.

Back at home, the tribes of southern Bavaria recognized that they had a great leader in Seamus and they named him to head their Great Council. From this position he established the first capitol of southern Bavaria, Gartrinaburg. Seamus also wrote the first great democratic charter in central Europe, the Wurstfrieden Beschaffenheit. For many years, peace and prosperity were the rule in the forests of southern Bavaria. Finally, at the ripe old, age of 42, Seamus passed into the annals of history, hopefully borne on the wafting scent of a roasting wurstchen.

Retrieved from "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seamus_mitwurst"