“You know they say when a person loses that which makes them, them; they lose heart. The reality of this world takes a toll on ones being, and you become such an empty shell.” A long grey haired man downed another large cup of earthly but still pungent liquid. He let out a gasp of air as the liquid burned his throat on the way down. “You know this is God’s own salvation.”
“What do you mean God’s own Salvation?” A younger man sitting at the very same table as the older man quickly questioned before readjusting his glasses and dipping a quill feather into a jar of black muck. The older man hiccuped before cocking his head to one side to look at this young man.
“Young pup listen up… This is God’s Salvation the sweet delicious liquor that allows him to bear no weight upon his decisions; it’s his drink that calms his nerves…” The old man was interrupted by a young impetuous noble.
“You know Barachis you shouldn’t listen this old fool, he has never seen the front; he has never been to the Mount Hyre or to the Parapet of Doumond; he has never fought amongst the Elite Vuldarn Knights, what does he know of battle?” The young scholar Barachis looked up from his page up at the equally young nobleman, Shiro Tako and then at the old man before him.
The old man deigned a response, “Young whelp, noble may your house be, and you are not, but a fool.”
“How dare you, you old feeble man, wretched Masa. You are destined to remain a lost wandering Drunk, A weak coward.” Shiro clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.
The old man, Masa stood up from his seat and step forward as two guards rushed into the ancient tavern. Masa watched the guards as they stood behind the young Shiro. He stared off into space as if not threatened by the three.
“My Uncle is the King, Masa; so if you don’t want to be locked up you might want to just sit down.” Shiro looked mighty proud of himself for harassing this old “hero”. Masa continued to walk forward one step at a time.
“I told you to stop coming towards me you mad man…and you’re no hero, just some rotting peasant who has forgotten how to bow down. I see no great power before me.” The young nobleman continued to berate the old man.
“Boy, I have seen much war, much slaughter; and you have the gall to speak to me like that… I put your Uncle on the throne; your noble house was built upon my labors. You speak as if you are some great warrior but I am sure the only battle you saw was from the parapets and from the mountain range’s edge you cur!” Barachis wrote at lightning speeds to record all the details of the event unfolding before him.
“Wait, you’re bothering the Hero of Ninessar? The Masa, My lord I suggest you walk away from whatever started this disturbance, be you a noble or not you have neither the strength nor the wisdom to defeat him and frankly neither do us guardsmen.”