The house lords murmur to each other as the enclave continues until midday. The servant of the King is trying his best to bring decorum to this honourable house. Never has the house of lords in all his years been a farm full of indignant pigs. He meekly thinks to himself, ' At worst they might be Peregrine.' YEars of training and lifelong dedication to the royal has strangled out of him any unsavoury thoughts.
The muddy discordant lords taking their cues from their king. Squealing like pigs they have descends into open madness. Openly shouting and insulting each other. Petty grievances are being raised out of turn. The lords attending to business meant for lower houses.
