PHQ-Nickname:
SonOfMan
Halfquake:
Screaming Deth
Level:
40
Total kills:
3,688,748
Birthday:
September 01st 1974
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| Mood: | neutral |
| Type: | Story |
| Added: | October 09th 2009, 22:20:22 |
| Visits: | 1428 |
| Rating: | Not rated yet. |
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Description:
As two armies await to hear if their fates on this day are to fight to the death or to find peace among men, our "envoy extraordinary" is sent upon an mission that could change the lives of many. |
 Get up here on the back of my horse
and let us ride out to meet them.
Blown by the wind you carry Our Flag,
Distant sounds meet us as we set out.
I have a fruit basket to offer them,
did you bring anything?
Aha, flowers and a bottle of wine,
that was thoughtful of you.
We ride at a slow walking pace.
Lo! They have sent a party our way,
Three riders, one a lowly standard bearer.
And here are we, two to a horse.
That's a little embarrassing.
I hope they will not mock us for it, I am
terrible at witty comebacks.
We can try to forget about that for now.
See the soldiers lined up across the plain.
There must be thousands of them. They
appear fierce even from this distance.
How deep do their ranks go, 3 men, a hundred?
We are many, but have few horses.
If they ask how many we have I will include
the mules in my number. Sancho Panza was carried
admirably by a mule, we can be too.
Now they approach, the battlefield lies silent
and deserted but for us. The wind blows cold.
How should I greet them? I recall not the
name of that guy on the left, I met him only
once before and he mumbles, the fool. Due to
his mumbling I could not catch his name.
I think now that we two ought to have decided
a strategy between us. This could be problematic.
Should my fellow officer say something stupid
then I am of the opinion that we will be, as the infantry
would say, "fucked".
"My liege", I say and bow my head. Ha, that was
clever of me, I will direct all my dealings to
the officer in charge and ignore mumbling-man
completely. We begin with the gifts. I offer them
to the standard bearer, it amuses me to watch him
trying to carry so much. The flowers look lovely
in the cold winter sun. He has sniffed them!
And he appears pleased. One point for our side!
The mumbling-man has demanded that our troops retreat.
I will not agree, we have made camp in a good place.
We have a strategic advantage from inside the
stone fort, while they are in a swamp.
We negotiate the lands to the east, there are,
I remind them, some rivers plentiful in their bounty
of fish, and in addition there is a fine forest.
I know we burned the forest, I say, but it will
grow back given time.
We must discuss this further.
The standard bearer breaks out a folding table and chairs
to seat four. Where on Earth could he have been
concealing those, I wonder. I eye him with awe.
They produce a ham and bread. We will sit and
eat together as we discuss the matters at hand.
Mumbling_man draws a blade! My blood begins to
race, my mind races too until he informs us all
that he will slice the ham and cut some fruit.
We laugh together, this band of mortal enemies
upon the killing field.
I will not be outdone by a ham and have remembered the
salami in my saddlebags. Impressed by the size
and quality of my German sausage the mood mellows.
As we sit down to enjoy the humble feast before
us, mumbling-man introduces himself. He does not
recall that we have met once before at a ball hosted
by his cousin in the Eastern Lands. I introduce myself
in turn, but will not remind him of our earlier meeting for
I am careful in what I say here on this day that
may lead to the bloody act of war.
The negotiations progress amiably and we are agreed
for the most part. It seems battle may be avoided on
this day but there is something upon which we cannot
be agreed. There lies to the north a lake surrounded
by good farming land inhabited by a considerable population
of peasants. It is a bountiful larder capable
of feeding many. Our foes will have it for themselves.
All are agreed that we must decide on this very day
how we are to proceed. A duel is suggested. The wine
has made us bold but merry also. Not one of us has
the will to duel another. We decide upon a game
in place of the duel. We will play Dungeons & Dragons.
The last one to die will receive the lake for his King.
We send for Captain Pennypink of the First Cavaliers.
He is known to be the most revered Dungeon Master,
both fair and impartial and with a sturdy knowledge of
the rules.
Captain Pennypink arrives and we play. It takes many
hours, each successive hour more enjoyable than
the last. As dawn approaches my wizard is the
last man standing, having killed a mighty ogre
with a fire spell. I have dubbed my wizard
'Salami Gandalf' and joked with the other players
that he attacks not with spells but with a big
penis hidden beneath his robes. Laughter abounds.
Such is the bawdy behaviour amongst warriors such
as we are. War hardens a man like no other work can.
All is settled and we make to leave. We give thanks
for the ham and bread and for the sportsmanship.
In turn we receive thanks for the beautiful
flowers, wine and other gifts.
Still embarrassed to have arrived together on
but one horse we lead the horse away on foot.
I will have coffee I think to myself, or perhaps
tea. We walk back to the fort through the early
morning mists stopping only to admire the sunrise.
We are agreed that once we have reported to the
King that the negotiations were successful
I will visit the Queen. No doubt it will
excite her sexually to have me recount the tale
that proves my D&D skills and prowess.
She will want to bed me for certain.
We walk slowly onward as the sun rises over
the mountains, it's orange glow lighting up
the sky with such beauteous wonder.
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