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Author Topic: A Drink With An Old Friend  (Read 1007 times)
Raiden Morana
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« on: December 28, 2007, 01:45:45 pm »

I had only just wiped the orc blood from my war axe when a pigeon fluttered around me. The message it carried was bound by the Duchy Of Trinsic seal. Apparently one of our guardsmen was being boisterous displaying some swagger at the West Gate. And judging from the description of the guardsman, it sounded very much like...

"Tib! Ye old bugger. By the Gods tis good ter see yer. Kicking out time at the 'Anchor' eh?"

"Couldn't get served... Summat about a 50,000 shilling tab."
Tiberius grinned.

"Captain now eh? I thought at least ye'd be grand turnip by now."

"Hoho. Aye some damn foo' saw fit ter promote me."



The banter continued fer a while as we watched the comings and goings at the gate. I saw a familiar uniform and blinked twice.

"I thought all the Kaldorians died from the died from the pox?" Raiden mused.

Tib' shrugged.

"So have ye been able to cope without me?"


"We try Senior." Raiden grinned. "So where did yer bugger off ter?"

"In the colonies Sir. A place where the natives don't even wear pantaloons!"



"C'mon lets grab an ale afore I die of thirst."

"Sounds like a plan Tib'."

"So, still chasin' the lasses Sir?"

"Just the one nowadays. Me wife!"
Raiden beamed.

"Yer married? If I'd have known I'd have got yer a gift."

"Who did yer marry?"


"Flina!" Raiden nodded proudly.

"Flina!? I am out of the loop!"

"So where we headed Tib'?"

"I fancy a trip to Yew Sir, show 'em the swagger eh?"

"Har!"



Tiberius then went on to regail me with tales from his past as we marched from the portal down to Stone Keep. Stories of Celts and his days as a mercenary and insults about fat Vesperians.

Once in Stone Keep we were welcomed by a green clad Yewlander with the Lord Protector watching on. Astonishingly we were let off paying the obligatory tax so we promptly enquired whether the pub was open before our luck ran out. It also seems the rebel uprising in Yew is gaining in strength. *shifty eyes*


"Two Dirty Covians!" I declared to the bartender and was promptly given a couple of bottles of ale. The tavern was empty, not even a Besieger present to taunt I observed. Must have been a fresh delivery of sheep!?


"I still dunno how ye got us out of paying our taxes Sir?"


I tapped the badge on my sash and winked grinning.

We drank and talked, talked and drank.

"So yer back on active duty now matey?"

"Dunno mate. Maybe, maybe not. I'm at the Baron's whim i s'pose."


I nodded. "As we all are my friend."

More drinking and catching up took place and I awoke a few hours later with the table pattern inprinted on my face. No sign of Tib' the bugger. *grins*

Will we be seeing the old git again...?

*signed*

Raiden, Grenadier Captain.

[ooc]This story is hopefully for your amusement and any information contained within is OOC and unknown unless you are aware of it in game.[/ooc]
Logged

Retired Commander & Grenadier Captain.

Holder of The Richter Crest, The Baron's Cross, The Covian Seal (x2), Rage Of Raaz.

Veteran of The Kaldorian Line, First Minoc Campaign, Vesper Campaign, Yew Campaign, Second Minoc Campaign, The Border Wars, Vesperian Civil War & The Great Combine.

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