Post by daxam on Oct 9, 2014 19:48:58 GMT -6
A dark, azure sky hangs over the camp below, from which the sounds of men conversing amongst each other and the sound of rattling weapons and armor melt into the night air. Smokes drifts upward, vanishing into the dark sky as it leaves the amber glow of the fires underneath. Tents, erected seemingly as far as the eye can see and varying in size, litter the ground, all centered around a large tent.
Inside said tent, a group of men in Ancient Greek armor gather around a table, pouring over maps of the area as they converse in low tones, making plans for the following day. One such man, a young general by the name of Theodoros Spiro, sighs and runs his hand through his raven hair. "I guess that's all we can do," he says, straightening up from his hunched position.
"It's a sound plan," one of his advisors say, nodding. "That's to be expected of the son of the great Alexandros."
Theodoros glares at the man who spoke up and says, "You know I don't like being compared to my father. He may be a great man, but I'm my own person."
The man quickly nods and says, "Forgive me, sir. It was just a slip of the tongue."
Theodoros shakes his head, telling the man to forget it, as a soldier pokes his head into the tent. "Dinner's ready, sir," he says before disappearing.
Theodoros sighs and leads the way out of the tent, his advisors following behind. In the middle of the camp, outside of the command tent, a large bonfire had been erected, around which the cooks had prepared that night's dinner. Taking his share of food, Theodoros walks up to the bonfire and picks up the largest piece of meat on his plate, which he then throws into the amber blaze. Lord Ares, he prays, tomorrow, we march into battle. Please see that our victory is swift and decisive.
His prayer finished, he leaves the rest to the gods and walks away to let the next man make his offering. Sitting down in a corner by himself, he begins to eat. For reasons unknown to himself, however, he finds himself feeling that the next day's battle will be unlike any he had ever fought before.
Inside said tent, a group of men in Ancient Greek armor gather around a table, pouring over maps of the area as they converse in low tones, making plans for the following day. One such man, a young general by the name of Theodoros Spiro, sighs and runs his hand through his raven hair. "I guess that's all we can do," he says, straightening up from his hunched position.
"It's a sound plan," one of his advisors say, nodding. "That's to be expected of the son of the great Alexandros."
Theodoros glares at the man who spoke up and says, "You know I don't like being compared to my father. He may be a great man, but I'm my own person."
The man quickly nods and says, "Forgive me, sir. It was just a slip of the tongue."
Theodoros shakes his head, telling the man to forget it, as a soldier pokes his head into the tent. "Dinner's ready, sir," he says before disappearing.
Theodoros sighs and leads the way out of the tent, his advisors following behind. In the middle of the camp, outside of the command tent, a large bonfire had been erected, around which the cooks had prepared that night's dinner. Taking his share of food, Theodoros walks up to the bonfire and picks up the largest piece of meat on his plate, which he then throws into the amber blaze. Lord Ares, he prays, tomorrow, we march into battle. Please see that our victory is swift and decisive.
His prayer finished, he leaves the rest to the gods and walks away to let the next man make his offering. Sitting down in a corner by himself, he begins to eat. For reasons unknown to himself, however, he finds himself feeling that the next day's battle will be unlike any he had ever fought before.
yaaaaay Clint bears <3