Post by darthvayne on Aug 23, 2008 6:09:28 GMT -5
"Ahh, yer lookin fer The Famous Khale ir'Dantus. You must be new here soldier..." The grizzled old soldier wearily eyed the young recruit that asked him that simple question.
"That'd be him boy." The seasoned warrior raised a finger at the man standing a ways off in the distance. "The one that looks like a Cyran army recruiting poster."
The young soldier's eyes traveled in the direction the older soldier indicated. Until he caught sight of the one that had to be Khale.
He stood upon a slight hill one foot slightly above the other as he cast his gaze about the troops and terrain arrayed before him. He wore an ornate suit of armor, intricate engravings tracing the surface, though the young soldier was to far distant to make out any details. The armor was meticulously polished and glinted in the little sunlight afforded by this overcast day. Two swords hung at his belt, crisscrossed on his left side, one was a great deal longer than the other. A red cloak flitted behind him in the slight breeze, the cloak fastened by what appeared to be a Cyran Medal of Gallantry. His face was handsome, but not extraordinarily so, he had short cropped dark hair and a well groomed goatee. Behind him a Cyran flag fluttered. The young soldier smiled, yes, the old man was right he looked just like something out of a recruitment poster.
"He everything you expected him ta be, lad?"
"Well, all he's missing is a noble white steed..." the young soldier quipped.
"Ha!" The veteran chuckled "you might be alright here!" He slapped a weather worn hand on the young man's back.
"He wasn't always a soldier fighting fer the jewel that is our wonderful nation. The way he tells it he started out as a humble artist, we'll I can tell you that aint exactly tha truth. That boy was born into nobility, and not just any nobility mind you I heard that he's blood with the crown. But an artist, that part is the truth, by the Nine. I aint ne'er seen into that sketchbook he carries with him, but I've heard that his paintings are somet'in to behold. And boy can he sing! Gifted at that sorta thing, I heard. Born with a maestro's talent he could play just about any musical instrument since tha time he could walk. He's one of them musical whatchermacallits... a prodigy! Yeah that's it, heard 'im say that he'd travel about the noble courts and perform fer nobles and royalty alike, imagine what that would be like... though he tells it, he felt more like a trained puppy paraded about by his parents as a means of gaining political prestige, I don't make heads or tails of that, all that political stink makes a bodies head hurt."
"If he's a noble of some stature and as talented as you say, whys he out here with us folk fighting in this war, when he could live happy and richly far from any danger?"
"Heh, he says that he's out here 'cause this is where a nobles place is in time of war. Though I'd reckon none of the other nobles would agree with him. I wouldn't know what drives him to be out here with us common folk, but I can tell you that I'm glad he's out here. However his life started he's become one d**n fine warrior. I've seen him out on the battlefield and his skills are just as amazing as any song I've heard him sing or fancy artwork I've ever laid eyes upon. He's saved my neck mor'n a few times. If you really want ta know more about him, just go up there and ask, son. For such a famous noble and such he's actually quite the approachable guy, unlike that shifty brother o' his, but that there is another story." He slammed his hand into the young boys back.
"Welcome to the unit son, try not to die, I'm beginning ta like ya." He added with a wink.
The young soldier gave a wry smile and began to make his way towards Khale.
"That'd be him boy." The seasoned warrior raised a finger at the man standing a ways off in the distance. "The one that looks like a Cyran army recruiting poster."
The young soldier's eyes traveled in the direction the older soldier indicated. Until he caught sight of the one that had to be Khale.
He stood upon a slight hill one foot slightly above the other as he cast his gaze about the troops and terrain arrayed before him. He wore an ornate suit of armor, intricate engravings tracing the surface, though the young soldier was to far distant to make out any details. The armor was meticulously polished and glinted in the little sunlight afforded by this overcast day. Two swords hung at his belt, crisscrossed on his left side, one was a great deal longer than the other. A red cloak flitted behind him in the slight breeze, the cloak fastened by what appeared to be a Cyran Medal of Gallantry. His face was handsome, but not extraordinarily so, he had short cropped dark hair and a well groomed goatee. Behind him a Cyran flag fluttered. The young soldier smiled, yes, the old man was right he looked just like something out of a recruitment poster.
"He everything you expected him ta be, lad?"
"Well, all he's missing is a noble white steed..." the young soldier quipped.
"Ha!" The veteran chuckled "you might be alright here!" He slapped a weather worn hand on the young man's back.
"He wasn't always a soldier fighting fer the jewel that is our wonderful nation. The way he tells it he started out as a humble artist, we'll I can tell you that aint exactly tha truth. That boy was born into nobility, and not just any nobility mind you I heard that he's blood with the crown. But an artist, that part is the truth, by the Nine. I aint ne'er seen into that sketchbook he carries with him, but I've heard that his paintings are somet'in to behold. And boy can he sing! Gifted at that sorta thing, I heard. Born with a maestro's talent he could play just about any musical instrument since tha time he could walk. He's one of them musical whatchermacallits... a prodigy! Yeah that's it, heard 'im say that he'd travel about the noble courts and perform fer nobles and royalty alike, imagine what that would be like... though he tells it, he felt more like a trained puppy paraded about by his parents as a means of gaining political prestige, I don't make heads or tails of that, all that political stink makes a bodies head hurt."
"If he's a noble of some stature and as talented as you say, whys he out here with us folk fighting in this war, when he could live happy and richly far from any danger?"
"Heh, he says that he's out here 'cause this is where a nobles place is in time of war. Though I'd reckon none of the other nobles would agree with him. I wouldn't know what drives him to be out here with us common folk, but I can tell you that I'm glad he's out here. However his life started he's become one d**n fine warrior. I've seen him out on the battlefield and his skills are just as amazing as any song I've heard him sing or fancy artwork I've ever laid eyes upon. He's saved my neck mor'n a few times. If you really want ta know more about him, just go up there and ask, son. For such a famous noble and such he's actually quite the approachable guy, unlike that shifty brother o' his, but that there is another story." He slammed his hand into the young boys back.
"Welcome to the unit son, try not to die, I'm beginning ta like ya." He added with a wink.
The young soldier gave a wry smile and began to make his way towards Khale.