Post by tal02 on Aug 6, 2014 16:35:17 GMT -5
Eight years ago in the lands of the Silver Marches...
"A very poised elf of strong yet fluid build, dressed in an interesting purple and black armor read a notice of intent
by a group of folk that had just recently made their way to the region from the city-state of Tantras.
It was signed by a Tormtar, Heizen Angelo-Sovereign of the newly created 2nd Division...
Upon seeing this posting, Tieg reads it, then looks around while pondering it and reads it again thereafter
Heizen Angelo-Sovereign; the name was familiar, and he murmured it under his breath a few times, becoming quite certain
that he'd heard it before. Just where, however, he couldn't recall; could have been around the Rivermoot firepit, could have
been from the lips of travelers on the road, could've been the name that noisy tavern harlot kept yowling two rooms down the other night.
He didn't know, and it didn't matter. What did matter; the only reason he was devoting more than one tenth of a second's
worth of thought to this, was the line jotted at the very bottom of the missive--
'Order of the Golden Lion' -- and he'd been around more than enough to know both what that generally was and meant.
The Tormtar Mafia. The few, the proud, the elite...
...the actually respectable, on occasion. Tieg hrmed in reflection of this.
Most paladinly sorts; godservants in general, really; could be counted on only to be spigots of proselytics, platitudes and
other "Buy my god's dogma for half-price today and get an eternal butt massage free" schemes that had always made his teeth hurt.
Very occasionally, he was surprised, and very rarely, he was entirely wrong. He'd once been entirely wrong about the
Order of the Golden Lion, for example; they didn't go around preaching. They weren't a traveling troupe of salvation-peddling
troubadours in priests' clothing.
Those folk were crazy, and he knew that brand of crazy; he'd lived it for too many centuries not to be on a first-name basis with it.
Fearless, dauntless doers of whatever it was needing doing today, they were, and while their methods and his didn't but occasionally
agree… the ends, as he'd found in younger years, almost always did, and he respected that.
Sure, they followed Torm, which immediately put them at odds with folk like himself when it came to sitting around the campfire
and debating philosophy, but...
He rumbled a chuckle and, in the back of his mind, committed the name 'Sir Angelo-Sovereign' to memory. If the Golden Lions were sticking a toe out this way,
things were quite possibly going to take a turn for the interesting."
((Tien'gathuin 'Tieg' Lathlarios = character courtesy of Aeterna))