Zephanos the Conqueror
Nov 30, 2008 13:11:54 GMT -5
Post by Mushi Moto on Nov 30, 2008 13:11:54 GMT -5
The Universe is filled with many myths, legends and other stories which have filtered down through the ages. All these stories are very old. But none are older than the one told today...
It started in the most unassuming of places - a run-down tavern in the tiny village of Kirane, in the country of Miya. The sign out front was worn, and could only barely be seen to depict a tankard of ale. The shutters on the windows were broken and hanging. The inside was scarcely any better; about a half dozen small round tables with about four or five chairs each scattered around a fairly tiny main room which had a bar which was little more than a long wooden slab with a couple of barrels of ale on it, behind which a rickety row of shelves supported the clean tankards - clean being a very relative term in this case, and sometimes not even that. That was literally all to the tavern; there was no kitchen, no guest rooms; just a room behind the bar for the barman, a gruff, stocky fellow, to sleep in at nights.
But it was in this tavern that the greatest of legends began. The tale of the man who would unite the land, and the indominatable knight who stood by his side at all times...
Chapter 1 - A Purly Coincidental Meeting Shaping the Very Fate of the Entire World? Random
Zephanos walked into the tavern about halfway through the night. The Tankard, he thought ironically. What an original name. Sighing, he went up to the bar and ordered a drink from the barkeep, who was staring at the newcomer most suspiciously - as, for that matter, was most of the room. Clearly they didn't get many visitors out here. And Zephanos could see why. Surely the one he was searching for wouldn't be here?
Still, the place deserved its due of attention, and it wasn't like he could travel any further tonight. So instead of leaving he took his drink at sat down at a table in the corner. Gradually, the hostile stares ceased the other occupants of the bar went back to their own conversations. Zephanos for his part sipped at his ale sparingly. No one in the room looked fit for the role he was looking for... and if this was all the village had to offer, he was in for another fruitless night.
Zephanos, however, was in precisely the right place at precisely the right time, because at that moment, at the opposite end of the bar, a large man with a red face shot to his feet, knocking over the table in a drunken stupor, and yelling at a cloaked figure sitting opposite him. "What'd you say!?" He yelled. There was a silence. "What did you say!?" He yelled again. The cloaked figure spoke up. "... I wanted that drink." the red-faced man seemed taken aback by this cold reply, and brought his hand back. "I'll teach ya a lesson you'll never forget!" He said, taking a swing at the cloaked figure. Something astonishing then happened. The figure, considerably smaller than the man, stood up, and blocked this punch with one hand, and easily threw the man to the floor. Doing this the figure's hood fell back, revealing his face. It was calm, clean shaven, with ocean blue eyes. The man picked up the table, apologised for the disruption and went to leave the bar.
Zephanos watched all this with interest, and no small amount of amazement that this had turned out to be a good pick. Getting up, leaving his barely-touched drink on the table, he hurried after the mysterious cloaked figure out of the bar. "Wait!" he called once they were both outside.
The man stopped, and turned his head back. "Hm?" he acknowledged Zephanos. "Can I help you?" Zephanos came to a stop a few paces in front of the man. "Yes," he answered him with a small smile. "I believe you can." He extended a hand. "My name is Zephanos. Yours, my friend?"
The man ignored the question, and asked one of his own. "Zephanos? The wanderer?" Zephanos nodded briefly, although he marvelled inwardly that he'd already managed to acquire a reputation. "Yes," he told the man. "That's me."
Sensing this was someone who would need to be convinced, he launched into a short summary of his quest. "I don't know what you've heard about me, but I'll tell you about myself, and what I'm trying to do. I'm no one special, really. I was born into a noble family, but I was the fifth of five sons and yet more daughters, so I was never really important. But I think this was for the best; it allowed me to see the suffering in the land - and its cause." He was aware that his words were coming out a bit too fast, but he didn't care; he was excited at the prospect of having finally found the man he was looking for. "War. War is what ruins this land. So I want to stop the war. Whatever it takes. But I can't do that alone. I need people to join me - good people, strong people, who won't start a fight but will fight it to the finish if it's worth fighting." He smiled a bit more broadly and earnestly. "I've searched long and hard for such men, but I've had no luck. Until tonight. I believe you're exactly the type of man I've been looking for. So what I ask is this: will you join me? Will you help me end the war? Will you help me end the suffering?" He broke off; anxiously, he awaited the man's response, barely daring to hope.
The man folded his arms; he could see in Zephanos' eyes that his intentions were true and honest, and he already had his answer. "Very well." he replied, simply.
Zephanos' smile grew even wider, and there was relief in his expression. "Thank you," he told the man sincerely. "It will be a great honour fighting alongside you." He laughed slightly. "Well, that's my name. What about yours?"
"Harildir," the man replied. "And likewise."
Read and Comment!
Note which Steve forgot to add: I wrote part of this too. ~ Ralph
It started in the most unassuming of places - a run-down tavern in the tiny village of Kirane, in the country of Miya. The sign out front was worn, and could only barely be seen to depict a tankard of ale. The shutters on the windows were broken and hanging. The inside was scarcely any better; about a half dozen small round tables with about four or five chairs each scattered around a fairly tiny main room which had a bar which was little more than a long wooden slab with a couple of barrels of ale on it, behind which a rickety row of shelves supported the clean tankards - clean being a very relative term in this case, and sometimes not even that. That was literally all to the tavern; there was no kitchen, no guest rooms; just a room behind the bar for the barman, a gruff, stocky fellow, to sleep in at nights.
But it was in this tavern that the greatest of legends began. The tale of the man who would unite the land, and the indominatable knight who stood by his side at all times...
Chapter 1 - A Purly Coincidental Meeting Shaping the Very Fate of the Entire World? Random
Zephanos walked into the tavern about halfway through the night. The Tankard, he thought ironically. What an original name. Sighing, he went up to the bar and ordered a drink from the barkeep, who was staring at the newcomer most suspiciously - as, for that matter, was most of the room. Clearly they didn't get many visitors out here. And Zephanos could see why. Surely the one he was searching for wouldn't be here?
Still, the place deserved its due of attention, and it wasn't like he could travel any further tonight. So instead of leaving he took his drink at sat down at a table in the corner. Gradually, the hostile stares ceased the other occupants of the bar went back to their own conversations. Zephanos for his part sipped at his ale sparingly. No one in the room looked fit for the role he was looking for... and if this was all the village had to offer, he was in for another fruitless night.
Zephanos, however, was in precisely the right place at precisely the right time, because at that moment, at the opposite end of the bar, a large man with a red face shot to his feet, knocking over the table in a drunken stupor, and yelling at a cloaked figure sitting opposite him. "What'd you say!?" He yelled. There was a silence. "What did you say!?" He yelled again. The cloaked figure spoke up. "... I wanted that drink." the red-faced man seemed taken aback by this cold reply, and brought his hand back. "I'll teach ya a lesson you'll never forget!" He said, taking a swing at the cloaked figure. Something astonishing then happened. The figure, considerably smaller than the man, stood up, and blocked this punch with one hand, and easily threw the man to the floor. Doing this the figure's hood fell back, revealing his face. It was calm, clean shaven, with ocean blue eyes. The man picked up the table, apologised for the disruption and went to leave the bar.
Zephanos watched all this with interest, and no small amount of amazement that this had turned out to be a good pick. Getting up, leaving his barely-touched drink on the table, he hurried after the mysterious cloaked figure out of the bar. "Wait!" he called once they were both outside.
The man stopped, and turned his head back. "Hm?" he acknowledged Zephanos. "Can I help you?" Zephanos came to a stop a few paces in front of the man. "Yes," he answered him with a small smile. "I believe you can." He extended a hand. "My name is Zephanos. Yours, my friend?"
The man ignored the question, and asked one of his own. "Zephanos? The wanderer?" Zephanos nodded briefly, although he marvelled inwardly that he'd already managed to acquire a reputation. "Yes," he told the man. "That's me."
Sensing this was someone who would need to be convinced, he launched into a short summary of his quest. "I don't know what you've heard about me, but I'll tell you about myself, and what I'm trying to do. I'm no one special, really. I was born into a noble family, but I was the fifth of five sons and yet more daughters, so I was never really important. But I think this was for the best; it allowed me to see the suffering in the land - and its cause." He was aware that his words were coming out a bit too fast, but he didn't care; he was excited at the prospect of having finally found the man he was looking for. "War. War is what ruins this land. So I want to stop the war. Whatever it takes. But I can't do that alone. I need people to join me - good people, strong people, who won't start a fight but will fight it to the finish if it's worth fighting." He smiled a bit more broadly and earnestly. "I've searched long and hard for such men, but I've had no luck. Until tonight. I believe you're exactly the type of man I've been looking for. So what I ask is this: will you join me? Will you help me end the war? Will you help me end the suffering?" He broke off; anxiously, he awaited the man's response, barely daring to hope.
The man folded his arms; he could see in Zephanos' eyes that his intentions were true and honest, and he already had his answer. "Very well." he replied, simply.
Zephanos' smile grew even wider, and there was relief in his expression. "Thank you," he told the man sincerely. "It will be a great honour fighting alongside you." He laughed slightly. "Well, that's my name. What about yours?"
"Harildir," the man replied. "And likewise."
Read and Comment!
Note which Steve forgot to add: I wrote part of this too. ~ Ralph