“Nathaniel. Why do we fight?”
Two knights watched from a hill overlooking a battle. Crimson-hued clouds in the evening sky cast an ominous shade over the land. Shouts and the clash of steel rang from the battle raging in the distance as a kind of reflective silence seemed to separate them from that brutal chaos. They stood atop a mass of bodies from an earlier battle.
“For justice, brother Alastair. For the good. For the light.”
Suddenly a horn blared loudly somewhere in the battle, accompanying with it the stamping of horses and warcries of men as an entire battalion of mounted knights came crashing into the ranks of Mondain’s monstrous legion. The routed soldiers were slaughtered mercilessly as they attempted to flee from Lord British’s armies.
“Do we?” asked Alastair. “All of this bloodshed, for a man that is not even a Sosarian.”
“He is our King, brother,” replied Nathaniel.
“Lord Wolfgang was our king,” Alastair fired back.
“Lord Wolfgang is dead, murdered by the traitor. How many have perished for his crimes? And how many more will perish?”
Just as Nathaniel finished speaking, a loud crash resounded throughout the land as a massive projectile hurled from the dark legion’s camp landed midst the battling armies. It was followed by woeful wailing. As the madness seemed to subside to regular sounds of battle, Alastair spoke again.
“How many *must* perish, brother? I sense the world is changing, and not for the better. Conflict is what drives us; it is what dwells in our hearts. Conflict is the engine of our evolution. Without it, what are we? What am I? What art thou?” Alastair gestured widely to the battle playing out before them. “If Lord British has his way, all conflict will come to an end, and the kingdom will march limply to its annihilation.”
Nathaniel frowned. “Why worry, Alastair? Conflict is inevitable. It is peace that is the elusive and fleeting moment in time. Besides…” Nathaniel turned to Alastair, looking him up and down with a grin. “Were we to cross swords, thou wouldst surely be trounced. Without conflict, what art thou indeed!”
Alastair looked to his friend as Nathaniel returned his gaze to the battle in their moment of rest.
“Perhaps so, brother.”
Continue reading...
Two knights watched from a hill overlooking a battle. Crimson-hued clouds in the evening sky cast an ominous shade over the land. Shouts and the clash of steel rang from the battle raging in the distance as a kind of reflective silence seemed to separate them from that brutal chaos. They stood atop a mass of bodies from an earlier battle.
“For justice, brother Alastair. For the good. For the light.”
Suddenly a horn blared loudly somewhere in the battle, accompanying with it the stamping of horses and warcries of men as an entire battalion of mounted knights came crashing into the ranks of Mondain’s monstrous legion. The routed soldiers were slaughtered mercilessly as they attempted to flee from Lord British’s armies.
“Do we?” asked Alastair. “All of this bloodshed, for a man that is not even a Sosarian.”
“He is our King, brother,” replied Nathaniel.
“Lord Wolfgang was our king,” Alastair fired back.
“Lord Wolfgang is dead, murdered by the traitor. How many have perished for his crimes? And how many more will perish?”
Just as Nathaniel finished speaking, a loud crash resounded throughout the land as a massive projectile hurled from the dark legion’s camp landed midst the battling armies. It was followed by woeful wailing. As the madness seemed to subside to regular sounds of battle, Alastair spoke again.
“How many *must* perish, brother? I sense the world is changing, and not for the better. Conflict is what drives us; it is what dwells in our hearts. Conflict is the engine of our evolution. Without it, what are we? What am I? What art thou?” Alastair gestured widely to the battle playing out before them. “If Lord British has his way, all conflict will come to an end, and the kingdom will march limply to its annihilation.”
Nathaniel frowned. “Why worry, Alastair? Conflict is inevitable. It is peace that is the elusive and fleeting moment in time. Besides…” Nathaniel turned to Alastair, looking him up and down with a grin. “Were we to cross swords, thou wouldst surely be trounced. Without conflict, what art thou indeed!”
Alastair looked to his friend as Nathaniel returned his gaze to the battle in their moment of rest.
“Perhaps so, brother.”
Continue reading...