News From Poughkeepsie – Day 156

Last week’s theme inspired Jessika to write her very first prompt for NFP. It’s a killer start for a story, and I selfishly hope she picks up where she left off, so I can read the rest! I have no doubt we’ll be reading more from her.

Finally got out to see Guy Richie’s “Sherlock Holmes” last night. Whether Robert Downey Jr’s filthy action hero fits your vision of Sherlock or not, it is an incredibly enjoyable film, with just enough charm and wit to balance out the explosions.

It got me thinking about how resilient the character of Holmes is. Even filtered through the lens of a modern action-thriller blockbuster–or through a android on a space ship–the character remains a singular presence. There are many versions of Sherlock Holmes, but they are all recognizable as the character, deerstalker hat or no. The character of the Great Detective is so elastic, you can remove his Victorian trappings and shove him into a hospital in New Jersey and he still remains as fascinating as ever.

This week, let’s see how far we can stretch him…

Great Detectives: Barbarian

Iber was killed by a franscisca. Everyone believed that, because the small throwing axe was buried in his shoulder. The villagers came to agreement that Corbus the Black must have done it, as only Franks used fransciscas and Corbus was the only Frank they knew. Armed with rusty swords and farming implements, they searched up the hills and down the river, but they could not find him. For Corbus the Black was in the one place they did not think to look.

Corbus the Black was with the body.

“Someone wants the village to believe I killed this man,” Corbus said to his companion, Wisigard.

“Looks pretty damning,” Wisigard said.

“Hardly,” Corbus motioned to the wounds on the corpse’s torso. “If I was going to kill this man, I would have thrown the franscisca at him, not hacked at him like a blind man caught in a spiderweb. Even if I missed–which I do not–there is a reason I carry sword.”

“You don’t think these wounds caused by a sword?” Wisigard bent over the body to get a closer look.

“Not in the least,” Corbus said. “But you’re the barber, Wisigard. You tell me….”