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Matt Hein / Fantasy / Cognizant | |
| Camaraderie: Fellowship of the Red Dragon? Chapter two, part two) As the ruby glare of the receeding sunset stained the overhead clouds with a burst of fiery vermillion and golden hues, which scattered quickly into the vanilla evening, the countryside surrounding the city seemed still and serene, save for the commotion of various residents embarking upon the ends of their vigils and the fluttering of birds as they returned from their forays into the distances of the swaying fields, castng spiked siltouettes against the cover of the trees and sky. With the onset of the approaching moon into the distance and the faintest touch if moist inclement about drifting winds, a young military officer stood at his post, a hemispherical, ornamented banister of cedar which provided a panoramic view of the region, and scrawled some information onto a tattered and dog-eared ledger using a feathered stylus. With a lit, half-spent candle to one side, a pair of heavy glass optics at his neck and a sheathed rapier at his feet, the man leaned against the banister as he strained, then closed his eyes with fatigue, one hand rubbing against the stubble of his unshaven face. From one view, his equipment seemed poorly maintained, as pocked dents and streaks of faded rust lashed ribboned stripes across his decorated and egraved metal cuirass, fading into the segments of sun crackled leather and stitched burlap togs which constituted the brunt of his attire. Yet, damage to this extent was possibly marginal compared to the condition of his comrade’s equipment, which most likely endured far greater abuse than simple exposure to nature’s subliminal wrath, as forays into the fields yielded unrepairable scrapes and punctures. His eyes reddened, it appeared as though the officer had not slept for days on end, giving him much anticipation towards dismissal of his duty, much less to simply pick up and abandon it entirely for the prospect of rest. But, the consequences of doing so only prompted him to assauge his tensions, as he procured a small roll of tobacco from his satchel, and flicking the end of his metal lighter to ignite the end of the makeshift cigarette. Placing the cig to his mouth and drawing in a deep breath, he stood there in concentraton, then exhaled the vapors slowly. Taking the optics to his neckonce again, he was startled to hear a shrill command from his rear, only to nearly drop the cigarette. Catching it upon the burnt end, he gritted his teeth in pain for a second, then rubbed at the wound, turning abruptly to see a presiding officer decked in a fine black military ensemble, complete with a starched collar, tie, bandolier and sheath, which hung like the tendril of a mantis from his side. “Officer Seia! I assume you’re concluding your watch for the eve?” “Lieutanant Ramsay!” The soldier remarked in surprise, as he stood upright, saluting the official. “At ease, officer! Have you encountered anything on your watch?” “Nothing at all, sir...save to say a few unidentified movements throughought the field. Probably Astras, though...they are of no actual concern, in my opinion.” He spoke, as he proceeded to quell the cigarette. “I see...you know, Seia, it’s imprudential to waste a cigarette like that...neglect about the regulatons and finish it off now.” “Are you certain?!” “Go about it now...” Ramsay replied, as the officer took the cigarette to his mouth once again, drawing from it deeply as he closed his eyes, then exhaled a plume of smoke, flicking the still fiery ashes from the cigarette to his feet, as they died abruptly amongst the uneven bricks of the overhang. Taking another hit and finishing his smoke, Seia turned back to Ramsay, handing the presiding officer his pair of optics. “Commander Koreii has not yet dismissed me from duty...let alone assigned anyone to the post. In fact, I haven’t heard from him for the duration of the day...” “He notified me of some matters he had to attend to...although... I surmise Kimiahn would have taken the reins of command. Where might she have retreated?” “I’m not sure...we’re so badly understaffed, she’s probably back at regional office issuing orders again.” “I see...” Ramsay spoke, as he surveyed the area with the optics, as Seia inscribed several more entries into his tattered log, eyeing his timepiece. Shaking his head, Ramsay adjusted the optics and concentrated towards the wilderness ahead, motioning to Seia as he comented. “We have several approachments?” “Come hence, Au’lierre!!!” Ramsay shouted, as one of the approaching figures stopped, calling with a shrill voice towards him. “Kan’ai, faukke!” “Kimiahn, I need to speak with you regarding some urgent matters.” He called back to them, only to receive a quickl reply. “Ramsay, we need access!” “Seia, don’t just stand there! Escort them to my office immediately...I’ll have someone take up your position.” “Right away.” Seia replied, as he hurridely left his post, the clasping of his footsteps about the air somewhat resonate, then faint. Standing there in isolation, Ramsay pocketed the ledger and looked towards the city, blackened partially in a harsh shadow against the impending sunset, save for the occasional bronzed candlelight emitting from within its few occupied domiciles. Taking a breath, the officer wondered why of all places, Kalin stood so desolate...by day the city bustled with endemic activity, yet it fell dead within the evening. Taking his thoughts away from the affair, Ramsay ran his hand through his greyed hair, now cast in a ruby hue, and headed towards his office, visibly tired. As Seia opened the heavyset oak door to Ramsay’s office with a creak, the faint candlelight from within flooded steadily onto the paved walkway, as both Dashand Kimiahn were both beckoned into its austere confines. To Dash, the office seemed just as primitive as the storeroom, a small, cramped area filled to its reaches with old crates, spreading cobwebs and occasional stocks of military equipment strewn about. “” “I’m not going to say much to you Kimiahn, but I am somewhat upset...we received another message from the DRP this morning.” “Let me guess...they’re holding back on orders once again.” “They’re refusing to fulfill our requests...this means we may be forced to withold our officer’s funds...I don’t want you to make any public statements on this...events are bad enough as is.” “Sir...what about their welfare?” “I cannot make any statements. Koreii resigned his post after hearing this.” “What? You’re kidding me?” “No...and the council of elders is unwillingto discuss it with me, except mister Rinehart. He’s somewhat concerned.” “Money well spent, I’d say...you know, corrosion can quickly destroy a nice piece of equipment...and It would be a shame to see a fine piece of cuirass go to such a waste.” “Why don’t you fix it, then? Traditions of Albatross include the cremation of rubyhawks and the scattering of their ashes amongst the countryside during the autumn season to commemmorate the rising of the triumvirate of deities, and a sense of gratitude and anticipation for the current and future harvests of the region, such ceremonies are usually performed by priests of the Kai Ne’hr or its subsidary delegates in variance to the region where performed. It is considered that such a spreading of the ashes invokes Akael’s fortune for his subjects. “These ampoules...they were terribly addictive rations for military outings. Along with my compatriopts, we were forced to endure days without nourishment save for these ampoules, which consisted of a cocktail between hormones, amphetamines and synthetic herbal agents prescribed by the state.” “SEAS? Our command has limited access to Merlot, Barbituates, Salicylates, Peroxides...and that’s about all really. Although the city, Kalin has an apothecary...” “Seriously, where does this locale, Kalin reside? Give me a longitudal value at least...” “Somewhat beyond that violet, mountainous region...South Kalin seemsto be the only safe venue.” “Which leads me the reason as to why I’m accompanying you... otherwise, you would be in much worse of a quandary. Please...” I just have to pick up a small parcel...I believe you’ll like it...” and I believe we also carry a modest astronomy office, but it’s largely outdated due to lack of funds.” Come on, it’s the twenyty first century, and the best you can muster is a bird?!” “” “Oh, in the same sense many of your comrades were overworked?” “I thought I stated not to overstep that boundary, Kimiahn.” “Dash, you stepped over mine a bit. I am slightly curious, though? As to what nature were you overworked, seriously?” “This does not concern you...” “Are ” “What in deal Akael’s name is that?” “Some fantastic literature about the antics of these binary digits and compiler settings with a php setup. It’s fascinating...” “Sounds dull and monotone.” “Sounds like an asinine title, but go ahead.” “Come off it, Kimiahn! We all know such stories are fabricated for the proliferation of simple morals.” “” Reza Shaw? = Another historical fiction concept... this concept is slated for release perhaps within the scope of months...lately, I picked up a copy of 1100-1200, the divine campaigns, which was written by the editors of Time Life. The concept deals with the exploits of a young Seljuk Turk conscript by the name of Seifal Cyoneous, which means Swordfish, when broken into syntax. However, the project is currently in its planning stages, and I’m rather preoccupied with Anachronistic Skies at the moment, but inquiries are welcome all the same. As both travellers approached the city from the distance of the road, the fatigure apparent on their faces, conversation had once again ebbed its way into the journey, leading Kimiahn to wonder as to the actual truth kdnet. |
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