(New Racksom) Legendary Tales (31st Board)

Subject: (New Racksom) Legendary Tales (31st Board) Fri Dec 05, 2014 10:38 pm

"Son, listen to me." He carried on, rambling, sure of himself and the astounding nature of his story. "I've told you once boy, and you lot, and I'll tell you again." He waved a finger at them all, blinking hard.
Rette was not a boy of course, but to the veterans of New Surahnia, those that had served in former Surahnia's military, he was both their subordinate and their outlet of grand stories that needed to be told, just as any other young men like him. The King naturally, was an exception...and few others. "No man of...no rank or what, is going to respect a braid, without a tale, right?"
Theros was beyond charmingly drunk, he was now hilariously awful company as the group of men had moved away from the natives tavern, now disturbed a street of sleeping folk amidst the calm night in Racksom. "You want to hear how I got my white braid, right?" Right? Rette already knew the story, but the numbers seemed to change every time. Still, he himself was none too sober either so he indulged the man.
"Your braid mate, it isn't even white. How'd you get a fake one like-" He egged Theros on, an old dog amongst pups that reckoned himself wiser even though he barely seemed to behave a day beyond his youth.

Theros spoke over him, cutting across to begin his epic, his voice loud and rowdy as ever.
"You know those gold hording, weedy, sly damn girl-men, before we got them all, right? The ones that talked all...sort of, Lah, yeah?" The group hung on his words, whatever they might have been as the man slurred and broke his focus.

Subject: Re: (New Racksom) Legendary Tales (31st Board) Sat Dec 06, 2014 1:31 am

Evgennii, having watched the whole spectacle from the rooftops, smirked. Standing, thus revealing his position he waved his bow.

"Aye. I remember them, old man. But how much do you remember? You're swimming in the drink."

Always grinning, he sometimes frustrated the older men. While he was good natured, he never seemed to understand that there was a time and place for smiles. However, seeing as he'd come up with the tactician, and had earned both a white and a yellow braid, chiding him was not healthy for one's career.

"These young boys want to hear of explosions. They want to hear how a bowman managed to get the better of foul magicians, or how he pinned corsairs to their own ship and drowned them in their own accursed sea. Those are grander tales, Aye? And me with the lion father's blessing."

Evgenii flexed, mockingly, and climbed down from the roof with ease.

"What say you, old dog?"

Theros, of course, did not anticipate men to be sitting upon rooftops, ready to ambush his moment of fame.
He paused as he heard the man speak, his eyes resting on that cocky grin of his. All before giving a hearty, and decidedly unhealthy, laugh.
"Young boys? You one of 'em. Listen 'ere before you go tellin' tales like that without knowing the real, mate." Theros did not believe what he heard, but then he couldn't see the proof either.
He continued with his piece.
"So them folks from Gelect, southern country, then to become the most southest point of Surahnia." He started again, a palm out in front of him as he created a map with his hand, though mostly to steady himself.
"I was first in the first ranks to be there, all those years ago...we were taking it y'see, taking,"

The Capital of Urid, the last stronghold, a fortress of hundreds a hundreds of beast-men" Rette thought, though watching the face of this stranger carefully rather than Theros himself. The stranger seemed amused rather than impressed by Theros' bravado so far.

"The Capital of Urid, the last stronghold, a fortress of thousands a thousands of beastly men. Hard shitters. Nothin' like these fairy peska. Savage." Oh, he had elaborated. "So I tell my men, by the end of tonight, you'll all be braided. No doubts and fears. The Lion father has spoken." Theros nodded enthusiastically, though his face had become as serious as it could have been in his state. "So we go to fight, already camped for moons at the gates of this city - a tough bunch they were. What you know of it? We fight like the Lion Father himself is in ther swords. Something fierce - we bring back their leaders heads, ten or more of them fallen for every one of us...But none a my men were slain; we made our braids we did that night. The King, Lords, companions. Ask any one of mine, they're in each of our braids. White, lads." Some of the men then grinned widely, a low ripple of the simple yet famous slurs to the old foe coming forth, along with a few tuneless howls of celebration.
Rented country! Rentboy country! Land for sale! Took like peska!
Gold won't save you. Gold won't save you. The gods don't care, the gods don't care.

Rette was never sure how much of the story to take seriously, but he liked the idea that one of his drinking companions was a hero of kinds, however unorthodox he was after the drink had settled in him. Rette knew that he may never become such a hero; too cautious, too obedient, to have a true moment of glory that demanded a great feat belonging only to him.
Yet, he believed he would also never fall to the enemy either for the same reasons. So it did not bother him when Theros spoke of such things.

Subject: Re: (New Racksom) Legendary Tales (31st Board) Sat Jan 03, 2015 7:50 pm

Evgennii stood with his arms folded, his white and yellow braids straining against the bulge of his bicep. He was listening with a half smile, but his face was a mask. This man, this Theros was not a hero, else he'd have a white braid, and that was the War Father's truth. If he was a hero of old, he must have been one thousand years old, because the only heroes in Old Surahnia were the ones that sailed with Zartear. He smiled on in the face of this man, wondering if he'd ever even seen a beast man, and what man he stole this tale from. But he was old, and the Willow Mother's teachings were to respect one's elders, no matter how senile. Thus he smiled only, and when the man was done, he gave a hearty applause.

"Well done, old dog. Would you like to hear my tales?"

He wasn't transparent. Evgennii was the best at hiding his inner thoughts, though his disdain for the man might have slipped through the crack in his mask to the man standing closest to him. He hadn't given Rette a second thought, but he had chosen to be kind to Theros. This was good for the both of them. Theros did not need to be torn down, and Evgennii did not need to lose trust between these men and himself.

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