Conversations With the Elder Crone
Lying on his side along the facade atop the keep in Dhirim, his long blond hair flowing in the wind, Canary looked north into the darkness to see Chaos lands suffocated by smoke and flames. A lone rider approached from the north with a single torch to light his way, an envoy from The Bridge Burners sent to accept terms of surrender. The envoy approached the gate and identified himself as Chestaclese, the Loveable Fuckup. Lord San brought him inside, had him change into something more suitable, and ushered him to the top of the keep where Canary resided. After brief introductions Canary started talking about the war.
“Now we can say empirically that we did outplay the Bridge Burners in at least one battle,” Canary said while adjusting his flowing locks away from his face. “It was a conscious decision to gather the cavalry at that particular moment and have them make an attempt to capture your flags; it turned out to be wonderful timing. If nothing else, remember Winterly the unbridled.”
“Uh, I guess,” Chestaclese replied through the leather mask San provided, his knees buckling from the cold wind that sheared the top of the keep. He wished Lord San had provided something more protective than leather short shorts and a mesh shirt.
“It almost defeats the purpose if the argument holds no steam, generates no heat, and is clearly a falsehood,” Canary continued while motioning to Chestaclese to fetch him an additional leather vest to protect his fair skin. “I'm not saying Bronto's method is ideal (though I, for one who is familiar with his ways, can recognize it for what it is: a mockery), just that it's more interesting to see people who seem angry than it is to watch people pat each other on the back with gentle tomfoolery. It tends to bring out more in the way of actual discussion as well.”
“Can we get to terms of surrender,” Chestaclese mumbled through the mask,, trying to push the discussion forward.
“For which the duty is mine to uphold, and to imagine that I might be attempting to do so through irreverence over the last few hours would be not too far-fetched, I should think,” Canary replied. “Derail the topic and see evidence of moderators paying attention, oh my! Back on topic, if you please. More to say about Saxton super scum and double-crossings in general, the meaning or cause thereof, or is it just another bump for attention?”
The conversation continued on like this throughout the night, Canary yawning on about irreverence and implications while passive aggressively trying to convince Chestaclese to lie on the warm stones next to him, poor Chestaclese shivering uncomfortably, and San creeping in the distance.
