Genesis 028

Jan. 8th, 2006 12:40 am
[identity profile] annarti.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] yrae
Title~ Campfire Talk
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine
Notes~ Genesis 027. The Pwn are dorks, oh yes, yes they are X3

~ ~ ~


Ulkar dumped another log on the small campfire, watching the bright orange sparks dance erratically up to join the white specks of the stars stretching out overhead. He’d always loved these aspects of the missions—just being relatively alone, out in the middle of nowhere with the night sky stretching out overhead, and the silver-lit desert opening out around him. It was even nicer this time, because there was no mission to taint the pure relaxation.

“How often is Majesty planning on doing this?” he asked, resting back against the cool sand to stare up at the stars.

“If this one’s successful, he wants to make it an annual thing,” Nol answered from somewhere on the other side of the fire.

Ulkar frowned. “Define ‘successful’,” he said carefully, “Usually with Majesty that means without anyone dying or becoming otherwise decommissioned.”

“Good point.” Ulkar could hear the ironic grin in his voice.

“It’s supposed to be some sort of a team building thing,” Rau clarified, “So as long as we don’t have too many arguments and don’t go stir crazy, we’ll probably be doing it again next year.”

“I’m stir crazy.”

“Sweep the desert, Kaen.”

“I have a suggestion for next time,” Nol mentioned casually, “Does dagger toss count as training? I brought a dagger thinking we’d at least have a target on this boat.”

“So did I,” Ulkar added, “Rather poorly equipped when you think about it.”

“I need salt,” Kurae continued, “We ran out on dinner tonight.”

The General sighed heavily at the petty complaints being hurled at him. “Okay, we’ll upgrade the boat next time. And the next town we hit, we’re buying salt and a target, or at least the materials to make one.”

“You told us not to bring coin though.”

“Surely one of you ignored me. You usually do.”

A resounding “no” circled the campfire.

“So you’re telling me that the fifteen most highly paid guys in Raykin have currently not got a copper between them.”

“That’s what we’re telling you, General,” Anganur told him.

“Aeia damn it.”

“Maybe we could sell Kaen’s dagger… ow.”

“I’m sure his dear Highness doesn’t need his bow on this trip.”

“Okay fine, we won’t sell the dagger.”

“Thank you.”

“What’s wrong with doing what we do on missions?” Emon suggested, “Get the blade archers to go pub crawling until people work out who they are.”

“I don’t think anyone’ll ever recognise us downstream,” Kaen mused, “Not like we ever go any further downstream than the Ni-Yana docks.”

“That’s cruel to the locals,” the General argued.

“We’ll busk in the streets!” Ulkar said excitedly.

“This is ridiculous,” Nol said finally, “The King’s Own is not being reduced to busking.”

“Sell fish?” Gylepi suggested, “We could spear enough of them in an hour to pass as fisherman, and as Kaen said, we’re hardly going to get recognised.”

“That’ll do,” Rau said, “How much does the average river salmon go for?”

“No idea.”

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a winner then.”
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