by Vanidor » Thu Nov 20, 2003 4:47 am
One of the signs was seen by a soldier in crimson and black. His companion read it as well, then drew his service knife and cut it down from the post it was on. It was folded carefully, though the hands which did it were shaking in a bit of rage. The first soldier just arched an eyebrow, casting a look at the second.
"Who the 'ell is Gruumsh, anyway? An' why are y'shakin' like a leaf in the bloody wind?" Said he, eyebrows still arched upon his forehead. "Because, damnit all. These bastards... mngh. I know the Duke has enough on his mind... but we need to get this too him, quickly. Filthy greenskins..." And with that, he'd turn on his heel and start the long walk back to the fortress...
One should always be drunk. That's all that matters... But with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you chose. But get drunk. - Charles Baudelaire