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The Trappings of War: Volume XVI
An UnOrthOdOx View of the Glory of War
The crew woke me at the first sign of land, and as I peered over the blue expanse I could see in the distance the cliffs of what must be Gathering Storm’s border.
I sat in contemplation. What would I do? I had heard many a story of what few Voxian survivors there were. Stories that were obviously the creation of the minds of men who had been out foxed in battle. Ten feet tall fire breathing chickens. Ha! I was not fool enough to think that such a thing could truly exist. Still, my own experiences with my own dragon had taught me enough to know that there is always SOME truth to such legends and I began to wonder if it had been folly not to bring along a ballista with me.
No, I told myself, this was intended to be a peaceful voyage, I would treat it such. Perhaps my experience in Legoland would aid me far better than any weapons of war.
I watched the coast as our Galley rounded the coast and sat in amazement as I watched the cliffs give way to hills and eventually melt into dunes of sand. This seemed to be an inhospitable land. It must also produce a very hardened breed of men to live in this climate I thought to myself. A second later, I was thinking it would also produce a hardened breed of Chicken.
Our galley sailed along the coast in search of a safe place to land and we finally settled on landing at the mouth of a river figuring that it would provide faster access to the center of Gathering Storm if we were to sail upstream. No sooner did we land, however, than we were met by 5 giant chickens that seemed to have appeared from nowhere.
“UnOrthOdOx!” Boomed a voice from atop one of the lead Chickens. “Disembark and we will allow the Galley to leave in peace.”
The warrior inside of me heard this as a challenge, and instinctively I began to tense. A quiet murmuring came from the crew and I glanced behind to see 3 galleys flying the Gathering Storm colors had also sailed around to cut off our exit. Where had they come from? And how? This was clearly a fight that could not be won.
“Very well” I replied “but first I must know your name and intentions.”
“My name is Theseus, Co-General of the Armies of the Storm and my intentions are none of your concern. It is the will of the Gathering that you should be brought before the council and allowed to speak. That is all that need concern you.”
I cursed silently under my breath. I had been too long removed from the diplomatic scene. It was beginning to come back to me now. Gathering Storm was ruled by consensus. I fully suspected that Theseus would have liked nothing more than to slaughter us right there and then. He was bound to follow the will of the Gathering, however. I even wondered if his position as General had any true power. I found it much more likely that he would be required to first seek the approval of the Gathering before implementing any military action as well.
“Very well, I understand.” I said as I disembarked and ordered the crew to leave without question.
As the riders approached, I saw that one of the chickens was lacking a rider and I immediately knew it was intended for me. These people rode these chickens as other men do horses. I wondered only for an instant what the advantage of doing so might be, then I remembered the cockfights back in Imperia. Crude methods of entertainment that most men shied away from, it was common for the owners of the birds to arm the feet of the chickens with tiny barbs. Looking at the size of these chickens, a similar armament would rip through a man in no time. As I mounted one of the riders pulled up along side my mount.
“Greetings UnOrthOdOx, It is a pleasure to finally get the chance to meet you in person. I hope that your trip was a pleasant one and that your stay here will be equally productive.”
I might have never seen his face before, but the style of his speaking was without question. “Zeit!? Wow, I would not have expected to see you in person so soon. You are somewhat shorter than I pictured you.”
“And you are somewhat larger than I would have thought for an Ambassador. Now, I regret to inform you that I must ask you to wear this hood as we ride. I am sure you are well aware that our map has been kept a secret and we fully intend to keep it that way. This is not meant as disrespect and I am sure you can understand our position.”
“Sure, zeit. You guys must do what you feel is right.” As if I were in a position to argue the matter…
After what seemed to be days of riding, we had stopped and I was allowed to remove the hood only to find that we were in some sort of oasis and that it was getting dark quickly. Not much was spoken as we ate and drank that evening before finally the day gave way to night and I drifted off into a fitful sleep.
An UnOrthOdOx View of the Glory of War
The crew woke me at the first sign of land, and as I peered over the blue expanse I could see in the distance the cliffs of what must be Gathering Storm’s border.
I sat in contemplation. What would I do? I had heard many a story of what few Voxian survivors there were. Stories that were obviously the creation of the minds of men who had been out foxed in battle. Ten feet tall fire breathing chickens. Ha! I was not fool enough to think that such a thing could truly exist. Still, my own experiences with my own dragon had taught me enough to know that there is always SOME truth to such legends and I began to wonder if it had been folly not to bring along a ballista with me.
No, I told myself, this was intended to be a peaceful voyage, I would treat it such. Perhaps my experience in Legoland would aid me far better than any weapons of war.
I watched the coast as our Galley rounded the coast and sat in amazement as I watched the cliffs give way to hills and eventually melt into dunes of sand. This seemed to be an inhospitable land. It must also produce a very hardened breed of men to live in this climate I thought to myself. A second later, I was thinking it would also produce a hardened breed of Chicken.
Our galley sailed along the coast in search of a safe place to land and we finally settled on landing at the mouth of a river figuring that it would provide faster access to the center of Gathering Storm if we were to sail upstream. No sooner did we land, however, than we were met by 5 giant chickens that seemed to have appeared from nowhere.
“UnOrthOdOx!” Boomed a voice from atop one of the lead Chickens. “Disembark and we will allow the Galley to leave in peace.”
The warrior inside of me heard this as a challenge, and instinctively I began to tense. A quiet murmuring came from the crew and I glanced behind to see 3 galleys flying the Gathering Storm colors had also sailed around to cut off our exit. Where had they come from? And how? This was clearly a fight that could not be won.
“Very well” I replied “but first I must know your name and intentions.”
“My name is Theseus, Co-General of the Armies of the Storm and my intentions are none of your concern. It is the will of the Gathering that you should be brought before the council and allowed to speak. That is all that need concern you.”
I cursed silently under my breath. I had been too long removed from the diplomatic scene. It was beginning to come back to me now. Gathering Storm was ruled by consensus. I fully suspected that Theseus would have liked nothing more than to slaughter us right there and then. He was bound to follow the will of the Gathering, however. I even wondered if his position as General had any true power. I found it much more likely that he would be required to first seek the approval of the Gathering before implementing any military action as well.
“Very well, I understand.” I said as I disembarked and ordered the crew to leave without question.
As the riders approached, I saw that one of the chickens was lacking a rider and I immediately knew it was intended for me. These people rode these chickens as other men do horses. I wondered only for an instant what the advantage of doing so might be, then I remembered the cockfights back in Imperia. Crude methods of entertainment that most men shied away from, it was common for the owners of the birds to arm the feet of the chickens with tiny barbs. Looking at the size of these chickens, a similar armament would rip through a man in no time. As I mounted one of the riders pulled up along side my mount.
“Greetings UnOrthOdOx, It is a pleasure to finally get the chance to meet you in person. I hope that your trip was a pleasant one and that your stay here will be equally productive.”
I might have never seen his face before, but the style of his speaking was without question. “Zeit!? Wow, I would not have expected to see you in person so soon. You are somewhat shorter than I pictured you.”
“And you are somewhat larger than I would have thought for an Ambassador. Now, I regret to inform you that I must ask you to wear this hood as we ride. I am sure you are well aware that our map has been kept a secret and we fully intend to keep it that way. This is not meant as disrespect and I am sure you can understand our position.”
“Sure, zeit. You guys must do what you feel is right.” As if I were in a position to argue the matter…
After what seemed to be days of riding, we had stopped and I was allowed to remove the hood only to find that we were in some sort of oasis and that it was getting dark quickly. Not much was spoken as we ate and drank that evening before finally the day gave way to night and I drifted off into a fitful sleep.
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