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It has been a month since King Achilleas and his men departured for the southern shores. With no word as yet on how the monarch and his fleet fair against the Egyptians time has been well spent in the capital. The outer walls of the city now stand nearly the height of a man taller - beyond thwta a normal ladder would be able to scale. Buckets and crates of oil and tar are placed around its borders and sharpened pikes have been dug into the sands of the coastline. Now, the front gates look to being enforced with thicker blocks of wood and an order has been given for all streets to be cleared in case military troops need to rush to an entry to withstand an attack. Night and day, watchers take shifts upon the raised walls, watching the horizon for any sign of Egyptians sails headed their way...
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It has been a month since King Achilleas and his men departured for the southern shores. With no word as yet on how the monarch and his fleet fair against the Egyptians time has been well spent in the capital. The outer walls of the city now stand nearly the height of a man taller - beyond thwta a normal ladder would be able to scale. Buckets and crates of oil and tar are placed around its borders and sharpened pikes have been dug into the sands of the coastline. Now, the front gates look to being enforced with thicker blocks of wood and an order has been given for all streets to be cleared in case military troops need to rush to an entry to withstand an attack. Night and day, watchers take shifts upon the raised walls, watching the horizon for any sign of Egyptians sails headed their way...
These Walls of Stone Event - Taengea
It has been a month since King Achilleas and his men departured for the southern shores. With no word as yet on how the monarch and his fleet fair against the Egyptians time has been well spent in the capital. The outer walls of the city now stand nearly the height of a man taller - beyond thwta a normal ladder would be able to scale. Buckets and crates of oil and tar are placed around its borders and sharpened pikes have been dug into the sands of the coastline. Now, the front gates look to being enforced with thicker blocks of wood and an order has been given for all streets to be cleared in case military troops need to rush to an entry to withstand an attack. Night and day, watchers take shifts upon the raised walls, watching the horizon for any sign of Egyptians sails headed their way...
"Looking good." Though the comment was aimed at no one in particular, Nikolias had to admit that from the outside, at least, it appeared true. Even walls with the sturdiest of foundations would eventually crumble, though- but he hoped it wouldn't be any time soon. Considering the mythology he'd grown up hearing, it was quite possible that the Egyptians could appear at any moment, using any means possible, though he hoped for the sake of all of Greece that it wouldn't be using a symbol they all seemed to hold dear, like the next Trojan Horse. He thanked all the gods that at the moment it seemed all Greece was united, at least.
He could just imagine, now that the preparations were well underway, archers on the walls, among other military units of weaponry, and despite how the last war had turned out for him personally- leaving with memories that still sometimes haunted him at night- he smiled at the particular memory of the very first battle formation. There had been nothing like holding that bow, feeling at that moment powerful and strong and blessed by the gods. He so rarely felt that way anymore that the smile carried a hint of melancholy, but in the next minute he roused himself from his reverie and remembered the important job he now held as inspector of the walls. He felt more than a little apprehension despite himself at the thought that his inspection might very well affect the future of Taengea, and the thought that his calculations could be wrong made his insides start to quiver, although fortunately for himself and everyone else in the vicinity, he did not become queasy. Gods- and his parents- knew he couldn't really properly read the numbers he was supposed to be writing.
He wondered how many days it would be before he felt sure that they had everything they needed. It would probably always seem like every second was precious, at least for the next few months. Every war was always a tense period of time for Nikolias as well as the rest of the citizens, but was it his imagination or did the outcome of this one seem to matter more? Or perhaps that was because he was concerned with the sturdiness of the wall. There was a feeling of pride, though, too, in a way, the same way there had been when he was holding his first child. Inspecting the wall somehow made it his.[/]
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"Looking good." Though the comment was aimed at no one in particular, Nikolias had to admit that from the outside, at least, it appeared true. Even walls with the sturdiest of foundations would eventually crumble, though- but he hoped it wouldn't be any time soon. Considering the mythology he'd grown up hearing, it was quite possible that the Egyptians could appear at any moment, using any means possible, though he hoped for the sake of all of Greece that it wouldn't be using a symbol they all seemed to hold dear, like the next Trojan Horse. He thanked all the gods that at the moment it seemed all Greece was united, at least.
He could just imagine, now that the preparations were well underway, archers on the walls, among other military units of weaponry, and despite how the last war had turned out for him personally- leaving with memories that still sometimes haunted him at night- he smiled at the particular memory of the very first battle formation. There had been nothing like holding that bow, feeling at that moment powerful and strong and blessed by the gods. He so rarely felt that way anymore that the smile carried a hint of melancholy, but in the next minute he roused himself from his reverie and remembered the important job he now held as inspector of the walls. He felt more than a little apprehension despite himself at the thought that his inspection might very well affect the future of Taengea, and the thought that his calculations could be wrong made his insides start to quiver, although fortunately for himself and everyone else in the vicinity, he did not become queasy. Gods- and his parents- knew he couldn't really properly read the numbers he was supposed to be writing.
He wondered how many days it would be before he felt sure that they had everything they needed. It would probably always seem like every second was precious, at least for the next few months. Every war was always a tense period of time for Nikolias as well as the rest of the citizens, but was it his imagination or did the outcome of this one seem to matter more? Or perhaps that was because he was concerned with the sturdiness of the wall. There was a feeling of pride, though, too, in a way, the same way there had been when he was holding his first child. Inspecting the wall somehow made it his.[/]
"Looking good." Though the comment was aimed at no one in particular, Nikolias had to admit that from the outside, at least, it appeared true. Even walls with the sturdiest of foundations would eventually crumble, though- but he hoped it wouldn't be any time soon. Considering the mythology he'd grown up hearing, it was quite possible that the Egyptians could appear at any moment, using any means possible, though he hoped for the sake of all of Greece that it wouldn't be using a symbol they all seemed to hold dear, like the next Trojan Horse. He thanked all the gods that at the moment it seemed all Greece was united, at least.
He could just imagine, now that the preparations were well underway, archers on the walls, among other military units of weaponry, and despite how the last war had turned out for him personally- leaving with memories that still sometimes haunted him at night- he smiled at the particular memory of the very first battle formation. There had been nothing like holding that bow, feeling at that moment powerful and strong and blessed by the gods. He so rarely felt that way anymore that the smile carried a hint of melancholy, but in the next minute he roused himself from his reverie and remembered the important job he now held as inspector of the walls. He felt more than a little apprehension despite himself at the thought that his inspection might very well affect the future of Taengea, and the thought that his calculations could be wrong made his insides start to quiver, although fortunately for himself and everyone else in the vicinity, he did not become queasy. Gods- and his parents- knew he couldn't really properly read the numbers he was supposed to be writing.
He wondered how many days it would be before he felt sure that they had everything they needed. It would probably always seem like every second was precious, at least for the next few months. Every war was always a tense period of time for Nikolias as well as the rest of the citizens, but was it his imagination or did the outcome of this one seem to matter more? Or perhaps that was because he was concerned with the sturdiness of the wall. There was a feeling of pride, though, too, in a way, the same way there had been when he was holding his first child. Inspecting the wall somehow made it his.[/]
Fotios of Leventi was a man whom many feared. He might not have been some towering figure or muscle-bound monster and able to strike fear into the hearts of everyone that might feel terror for their physical safety... but he held his own kind of strange allure. Blending into the shadows of Court sessions and Senate meets, he was a man whom all knew to be powerful. Not only was he once Master Informer of Taengea, but he was now Head of the richest family in Taengea. And when your Senate was corrupt and your economy was based in trade, that made an individual incredibly powerful. And yet, he never outwardly showed such power. Never brandished it with triumphant victory or flaunted it as and where he wanted to make his own point. Instead, he simply listened, watched and made the occasion comment that was clearly more informed than it had any right to be.
In short, the fear that Fotios evoked in others was one of unease, more the outright horror.
Yet, even with all of that - or perhaps because of it - the noble classes of the kingdom were fully aware of Fotios' skill. If he appeared to be a force to be reckoned with because of all that he knew, at least it was recognised that he knew much. If he was afeared because of his frightful intellect and his surprisingly good memory, then at least people were aware of that intellect and memory. The money that he wielded was a good sword that would shock people into obedience, but such a thing could not be done without the understanding and belief in that excessive wealth.
When all elements were considered, regardless of the unease that Fotios created in those around him - particularly those who knew that he held them in the palm of his hand - he was easily recognised for his talents. Not diminished through a misguided attempt of defence.
So, when the capitol was placed into the hands of the remaining royals and nobles to build and defend, it was natural that Fotios had undertaken the organisation of affairs from a higher level. Whilst Gavriil was in a position to ensure that goods and resources were brought from the provinces - such as a the woodland trees that were needed for the pikes along the beach to stop enemy ships from docking - and Emilios held access to the royal treasury, able to budget for said supplies... Fotios held the analytical and knowledgeable mind to handle things on an organisation level. The timetables for tasks, the regiments of taxes and journey times and transport. The labour needed to put the resources into effect once they reached the necessary destination. The horses required to pull wagons of rock or to move the gears and pulleys to lift pieces to the upper walls of the city... All was arranged or supplied by the House of Leventi.
So, when it was reported to him that Lord Nikolias had completed the building of the walls around the city to a higher level - a level agreed by the natural commission that the Heads of Houses had created - Fotios fell easily into the role of inspector and was eager to look over the work done by the Condos military units.
Not only did it give him the chance to run his perfectionist eye over the city’s defences, but any issues that he spotted would be additional detractors to a House he could barely stand at the best of times.
"Everything completed, Lord Nikolias?" Fotios asked, as he approached the man, a large clay tablet under one arm and a stylus in the opposite hand. It was clear that he had been making notes on the slate as he had ridden around the city, his steed now tied to a nearby post outside of a tavern that now served water and mead to the workers labouring under the sun.
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Fotios of Leventi was a man whom many feared. He might not have been some towering figure or muscle-bound monster and able to strike fear into the hearts of everyone that might feel terror for their physical safety... but he held his own kind of strange allure. Blending into the shadows of Court sessions and Senate meets, he was a man whom all knew to be powerful. Not only was he once Master Informer of Taengea, but he was now Head of the richest family in Taengea. And when your Senate was corrupt and your economy was based in trade, that made an individual incredibly powerful. And yet, he never outwardly showed such power. Never brandished it with triumphant victory or flaunted it as and where he wanted to make his own point. Instead, he simply listened, watched and made the occasion comment that was clearly more informed than it had any right to be.
In short, the fear that Fotios evoked in others was one of unease, more the outright horror.
Yet, even with all of that - or perhaps because of it - the noble classes of the kingdom were fully aware of Fotios' skill. If he appeared to be a force to be reckoned with because of all that he knew, at least it was recognised that he knew much. If he was afeared because of his frightful intellect and his surprisingly good memory, then at least people were aware of that intellect and memory. The money that he wielded was a good sword that would shock people into obedience, but such a thing could not be done without the understanding and belief in that excessive wealth.
When all elements were considered, regardless of the unease that Fotios created in those around him - particularly those who knew that he held them in the palm of his hand - he was easily recognised for his talents. Not diminished through a misguided attempt of defence.
So, when the capitol was placed into the hands of the remaining royals and nobles to build and defend, it was natural that Fotios had undertaken the organisation of affairs from a higher level. Whilst Gavriil was in a position to ensure that goods and resources were brought from the provinces - such as a the woodland trees that were needed for the pikes along the beach to stop enemy ships from docking - and Emilios held access to the royal treasury, able to budget for said supplies... Fotios held the analytical and knowledgeable mind to handle things on an organisation level. The timetables for tasks, the regiments of taxes and journey times and transport. The labour needed to put the resources into effect once they reached the necessary destination. The horses required to pull wagons of rock or to move the gears and pulleys to lift pieces to the upper walls of the city... All was arranged or supplied by the House of Leventi.
So, when it was reported to him that Lord Nikolias had completed the building of the walls around the city to a higher level - a level agreed by the natural commission that the Heads of Houses had created - Fotios fell easily into the role of inspector and was eager to look over the work done by the Condos military units.
Not only did it give him the chance to run his perfectionist eye over the city’s defences, but any issues that he spotted would be additional detractors to a House he could barely stand at the best of times.
"Everything completed, Lord Nikolias?" Fotios asked, as he approached the man, a large clay tablet under one arm and a stylus in the opposite hand. It was clear that he had been making notes on the slate as he had ridden around the city, his steed now tied to a nearby post outside of a tavern that now served water and mead to the workers labouring under the sun.
Fotios of Leventi was a man whom many feared. He might not have been some towering figure or muscle-bound monster and able to strike fear into the hearts of everyone that might feel terror for their physical safety... but he held his own kind of strange allure. Blending into the shadows of Court sessions and Senate meets, he was a man whom all knew to be powerful. Not only was he once Master Informer of Taengea, but he was now Head of the richest family in Taengea. And when your Senate was corrupt and your economy was based in trade, that made an individual incredibly powerful. And yet, he never outwardly showed such power. Never brandished it with triumphant victory or flaunted it as and where he wanted to make his own point. Instead, he simply listened, watched and made the occasion comment that was clearly more informed than it had any right to be.
In short, the fear that Fotios evoked in others was one of unease, more the outright horror.
Yet, even with all of that - or perhaps because of it - the noble classes of the kingdom were fully aware of Fotios' skill. If he appeared to be a force to be reckoned with because of all that he knew, at least it was recognised that he knew much. If he was afeared because of his frightful intellect and his surprisingly good memory, then at least people were aware of that intellect and memory. The money that he wielded was a good sword that would shock people into obedience, but such a thing could not be done without the understanding and belief in that excessive wealth.
When all elements were considered, regardless of the unease that Fotios created in those around him - particularly those who knew that he held them in the palm of his hand - he was easily recognised for his talents. Not diminished through a misguided attempt of defence.
So, when the capitol was placed into the hands of the remaining royals and nobles to build and defend, it was natural that Fotios had undertaken the organisation of affairs from a higher level. Whilst Gavriil was in a position to ensure that goods and resources were brought from the provinces - such as a the woodland trees that were needed for the pikes along the beach to stop enemy ships from docking - and Emilios held access to the royal treasury, able to budget for said supplies... Fotios held the analytical and knowledgeable mind to handle things on an organisation level. The timetables for tasks, the regiments of taxes and journey times and transport. The labour needed to put the resources into effect once they reached the necessary destination. The horses required to pull wagons of rock or to move the gears and pulleys to lift pieces to the upper walls of the city... All was arranged or supplied by the House of Leventi.
So, when it was reported to him that Lord Nikolias had completed the building of the walls around the city to a higher level - a level agreed by the natural commission that the Heads of Houses had created - Fotios fell easily into the role of inspector and was eager to look over the work done by the Condos military units.
Not only did it give him the chance to run his perfectionist eye over the city’s defences, but any issues that he spotted would be additional detractors to a House he could barely stand at the best of times.
"Everything completed, Lord Nikolias?" Fotios asked, as he approached the man, a large clay tablet under one arm and a stylus in the opposite hand. It was clear that he had been making notes on the slate as he had ridden around the city, his steed now tied to a nearby post outside of a tavern that now served water and mead to the workers labouring under the sun.
Nikolias was probably as much of a perfectionist as Fotios, if not a little more. It was still good to have an extra eye, he thought as he made the required bow. Privately, he had always been in a certain degree of awe at his rival's skill and memory.
He took a quick peek at what he thought he might be able to see of Fotios' notes, then answered.
"Nearly so- I believe the gates could stand to be enforced just a little bit more. However, in my opinion, otherwise, we are probably as ready as we will ever be. It is,of course, still good to have an extra eye, especially one such as yours." He meant that- even nobles sometimes grew lazy and were willing to settle for less than the best effort of any kind. Of course, one well-placed assault of anybody trying to get in and the wall could still go to pieces- because even the Greeks had had to get into the city with the Trojan Horse by some means. He was never entirely sure how much of the myths to believe- they were, after all, centuries old and could have been through thousands more retellings by now, during which some people might have forgotten or embellished details, but at the moment, the story of the Greeks versus the Trojans provided a lesson for him, somehow, in building the wall.
That was not to say he felt entirely at ease. Sometimes, especially lately, it seemed as though any war against another country was in a sense a battle concerning whose gods were superior. But at the moment, he felt sure that there was nothing- or almost nothing- Taengea could do to make their chances of winning and surviving any better. "Perhaps, after the gates are reinforced a little more as I've said, it might be time to test things. Gods forbid we've missed something and someone on our side is injured by our own oversight- most especially on the walls."
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Nikolias was probably as much of a perfectionist as Fotios, if not a little more. It was still good to have an extra eye, he thought as he made the required bow. Privately, he had always been in a certain degree of awe at his rival's skill and memory.
He took a quick peek at what he thought he might be able to see of Fotios' notes, then answered.
"Nearly so- I believe the gates could stand to be enforced just a little bit more. However, in my opinion, otherwise, we are probably as ready as we will ever be. It is,of course, still good to have an extra eye, especially one such as yours." He meant that- even nobles sometimes grew lazy and were willing to settle for less than the best effort of any kind. Of course, one well-placed assault of anybody trying to get in and the wall could still go to pieces- because even the Greeks had had to get into the city with the Trojan Horse by some means. He was never entirely sure how much of the myths to believe- they were, after all, centuries old and could have been through thousands more retellings by now, during which some people might have forgotten or embellished details, but at the moment, the story of the Greeks versus the Trojans provided a lesson for him, somehow, in building the wall.
That was not to say he felt entirely at ease. Sometimes, especially lately, it seemed as though any war against another country was in a sense a battle concerning whose gods were superior. But at the moment, he felt sure that there was nothing- or almost nothing- Taengea could do to make their chances of winning and surviving any better. "Perhaps, after the gates are reinforced a little more as I've said, it might be time to test things. Gods forbid we've missed something and someone on our side is injured by our own oversight- most especially on the walls."
Nikolias was probably as much of a perfectionist as Fotios, if not a little more. It was still good to have an extra eye, he thought as he made the required bow. Privately, he had always been in a certain degree of awe at his rival's skill and memory.
He took a quick peek at what he thought he might be able to see of Fotios' notes, then answered.
"Nearly so- I believe the gates could stand to be enforced just a little bit more. However, in my opinion, otherwise, we are probably as ready as we will ever be. It is,of course, still good to have an extra eye, especially one such as yours." He meant that- even nobles sometimes grew lazy and were willing to settle for less than the best effort of any kind. Of course, one well-placed assault of anybody trying to get in and the wall could still go to pieces- because even the Greeks had had to get into the city with the Trojan Horse by some means. He was never entirely sure how much of the myths to believe- they were, after all, centuries old and could have been through thousands more retellings by now, during which some people might have forgotten or embellished details, but at the moment, the story of the Greeks versus the Trojans provided a lesson for him, somehow, in building the wall.
That was not to say he felt entirely at ease. Sometimes, especially lately, it seemed as though any war against another country was in a sense a battle concerning whose gods were superior. But at the moment, he felt sure that there was nothing- or almost nothing- Taengea could do to make their chances of winning and surviving any better. "Perhaps, after the gates are reinforced a little more as I've said, it might be time to test things. Gods forbid we've missed something and someone on our side is injured by our own oversight- most especially on the walls."
Fotios didn't much care if the man managed to catch a look at the notes that he made upon the tablet he held but this was solely because he had written them within his own short-handed code. The man might be able to comprehend perhaps half of what he had written if he were given a solid few hours upon which to ponder the language, symbols and numerals that Fotios had used for the dual purpose of limited space upon the tablet and to ensure that no random passer-by might notice something that they should not.
And whilst Nikolias was a Head of House, he was, in Fotios' mind a busybody passer-by.
"Hmm." He offered, by way of accepting the compliment that the man threw his way over his assessment of the work. He had never liked Nikolias, and this additional friendly element to his personality was just a further annoyance. The two men disliked one another and always had - arguing over border disputes, land sales and wine production. Not to mention the price of horse flesh. The two Houses, as owners of the largest pieces of land in the kingdom were at odds by default of their names, but the two men had seen their share of personal arguments all the same.
And yet he still tried to play simpering flatterer.
Disgusting.
"Your efforts should be rendered superfluous, Nikolias." Fotios stated, in a tone that was open and not at all malicious despite the word choice.
"If Lord Gavriil's attentions upon the beach have seen an impenetrable means of landing for the Egyptian ships, they'll hardly reach the shoreline. Our archers will see to them decimated before the wall is even tested." Whilst his assurances were that Nikolias' assigned job had been entirely superfluous, it had been assigned anyway. Which meant that Fotios was a man who didn't take chances and was willing to put something of import into the Condos leader’s hands. What he wasn't willing to do was give him such a credit afterwards.
"What is the schedule of the men?" Fotios asked, bringing the conversation away from testing and over to the other elements of the wall that were not simply brick and mortar, his eyes trained upon his slate of coded messages and his hand hovering with stylus ready. The man should have had armed scouts upon the boundary at all times in order to spy if and when Egyptian flags could be seen on the horizon and Fotios wanted to know how secure such a watch was...
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Fotios didn't much care if the man managed to catch a look at the notes that he made upon the tablet he held but this was solely because he had written them within his own short-handed code. The man might be able to comprehend perhaps half of what he had written if he were given a solid few hours upon which to ponder the language, symbols and numerals that Fotios had used for the dual purpose of limited space upon the tablet and to ensure that no random passer-by might notice something that they should not.
And whilst Nikolias was a Head of House, he was, in Fotios' mind a busybody passer-by.
"Hmm." He offered, by way of accepting the compliment that the man threw his way over his assessment of the work. He had never liked Nikolias, and this additional friendly element to his personality was just a further annoyance. The two men disliked one another and always had - arguing over border disputes, land sales and wine production. Not to mention the price of horse flesh. The two Houses, as owners of the largest pieces of land in the kingdom were at odds by default of their names, but the two men had seen their share of personal arguments all the same.
And yet he still tried to play simpering flatterer.
Disgusting.
"Your efforts should be rendered superfluous, Nikolias." Fotios stated, in a tone that was open and not at all malicious despite the word choice.
"If Lord Gavriil's attentions upon the beach have seen an impenetrable means of landing for the Egyptian ships, they'll hardly reach the shoreline. Our archers will see to them decimated before the wall is even tested." Whilst his assurances were that Nikolias' assigned job had been entirely superfluous, it had been assigned anyway. Which meant that Fotios was a man who didn't take chances and was willing to put something of import into the Condos leader’s hands. What he wasn't willing to do was give him such a credit afterwards.
"What is the schedule of the men?" Fotios asked, bringing the conversation away from testing and over to the other elements of the wall that were not simply brick and mortar, his eyes trained upon his slate of coded messages and his hand hovering with stylus ready. The man should have had armed scouts upon the boundary at all times in order to spy if and when Egyptian flags could be seen on the horizon and Fotios wanted to know how secure such a watch was...
Fotios didn't much care if the man managed to catch a look at the notes that he made upon the tablet he held but this was solely because he had written them within his own short-handed code. The man might be able to comprehend perhaps half of what he had written if he were given a solid few hours upon which to ponder the language, symbols and numerals that Fotios had used for the dual purpose of limited space upon the tablet and to ensure that no random passer-by might notice something that they should not.
And whilst Nikolias was a Head of House, he was, in Fotios' mind a busybody passer-by.
"Hmm." He offered, by way of accepting the compliment that the man threw his way over his assessment of the work. He had never liked Nikolias, and this additional friendly element to his personality was just a further annoyance. The two men disliked one another and always had - arguing over border disputes, land sales and wine production. Not to mention the price of horse flesh. The two Houses, as owners of the largest pieces of land in the kingdom were at odds by default of their names, but the two men had seen their share of personal arguments all the same.
And yet he still tried to play simpering flatterer.
Disgusting.
"Your efforts should be rendered superfluous, Nikolias." Fotios stated, in a tone that was open and not at all malicious despite the word choice.
"If Lord Gavriil's attentions upon the beach have seen an impenetrable means of landing for the Egyptian ships, they'll hardly reach the shoreline. Our archers will see to them decimated before the wall is even tested." Whilst his assurances were that Nikolias' assigned job had been entirely superfluous, it had been assigned anyway. Which meant that Fotios was a man who didn't take chances and was willing to put something of import into the Condos leader’s hands. What he wasn't willing to do was give him such a credit afterwards.
"What is the schedule of the men?" Fotios asked, bringing the conversation away from testing and over to the other elements of the wall that were not simply brick and mortar, his eyes trained upon his slate of coded messages and his hand hovering with stylus ready. The man should have had armed scouts upon the boundary at all times in order to spy if and when Egyptian flags could be seen on the horizon and Fotios wanted to know how secure such a watch was...
Everyone that knew Hesiodos was aware that he wasn’t a patriot. He didn’t care for king and country, and as soon as things turned ill, he would turn his tail and flee to somewhere where he wouldn’t be punctured by arrows. He was a proud Taengean, but he wasn’t going to die for the piece of soil where he was born.
But singing and motivating people that were of more moral fiber than him? He could do that without a problem.
A couple of days ago, when it was announced that the walls were going to be fortified, Hesiodos received a missive alongside a bag full of coins. It didn’t say a name, but he recognized the handwriting of the Queen Mother Myrtho. The letter asked him to use his abilities as a rhapsodist to motivate the workers as they built the walls, and offered him pay for it... after all, morale was an important part of all of this. And while Hesiodos couldn’t see himself putting on armor and taking up arms to defend the walls, he could certainly offer some peep talks to the people that were going to defend the city.
As such, he woke up with the sunrise, dressed nicely in his wine-red chlamys, picked up his lyre and sung to the workers. He had the right songs for them: having sailed before in his travels, he knew a great deal of sea shanties. Sure thing, they were for ship work, but no one would object if they used it to work on the walls, right?
And thus, the rhapsodist made the work of shantyman and sung, accompanied by the chorus of workers:
“Look to the stars, Beyond the mountains and the wild sea Follow your dreams The bravest hearts The gods will favour those who dare to seek Courageously Their destiny
Beautiful island, Bathed in the rising sun Fate's hand will guide you Traveling paths unknown Back to the warmth of home
Through storms we'll ride And battles fought under the raging sky Through watchful eyes Fearless we breathe With silent whispers through the ancient trees, Where legends grow We're leaving home
Beautiful island, Bathed in the rising sun Fate's hand will guide you Traveling paths unknown Back to the warmth of home”
Shanties were particular songs. They were made with a sort of rhythm to help the workers work more efficiently and in sync. For this, it worked well as Hesiodos sung with all the strength of his lungs, and soon enough, everyone on the walls were singing. When it was over, he took a moment to rest his voice, but from the gate, he saw a particular someone and smiled.
Walking with a brisk pace, whistling a song, he approached the two lords, which seemed to be talking about important infrastructure matters. Not that he would know by what Fotios was writing. With a bright smile, white as a priestess’ robe, he said, “Lord Fotios, Lord Nikolias, I’m pleased to inform you that the workers’ morale is high, and they’re working efficiently. No need to thank me, though I’ll appreciate it if you do”, he said with his signature sing song voice, “Do you need my services for anything else?”
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Everyone that knew Hesiodos was aware that he wasn’t a patriot. He didn’t care for king and country, and as soon as things turned ill, he would turn his tail and flee to somewhere where he wouldn’t be punctured by arrows. He was a proud Taengean, but he wasn’t going to die for the piece of soil where he was born.
But singing and motivating people that were of more moral fiber than him? He could do that without a problem.
A couple of days ago, when it was announced that the walls were going to be fortified, Hesiodos received a missive alongside a bag full of coins. It didn’t say a name, but he recognized the handwriting of the Queen Mother Myrtho. The letter asked him to use his abilities as a rhapsodist to motivate the workers as they built the walls, and offered him pay for it... after all, morale was an important part of all of this. And while Hesiodos couldn’t see himself putting on armor and taking up arms to defend the walls, he could certainly offer some peep talks to the people that were going to defend the city.
As such, he woke up with the sunrise, dressed nicely in his wine-red chlamys, picked up his lyre and sung to the workers. He had the right songs for them: having sailed before in his travels, he knew a great deal of sea shanties. Sure thing, they were for ship work, but no one would object if they used it to work on the walls, right?
And thus, the rhapsodist made the work of shantyman and sung, accompanied by the chorus of workers:
“Look to the stars, Beyond the mountains and the wild sea Follow your dreams The bravest hearts The gods will favour those who dare to seek Courageously Their destiny
Beautiful island, Bathed in the rising sun Fate's hand will guide you Traveling paths unknown Back to the warmth of home
Through storms we'll ride And battles fought under the raging sky Through watchful eyes Fearless we breathe With silent whispers through the ancient trees, Where legends grow We're leaving home
Beautiful island, Bathed in the rising sun Fate's hand will guide you Traveling paths unknown Back to the warmth of home”
Shanties were particular songs. They were made with a sort of rhythm to help the workers work more efficiently and in sync. For this, it worked well as Hesiodos sung with all the strength of his lungs, and soon enough, everyone on the walls were singing. When it was over, he took a moment to rest his voice, but from the gate, he saw a particular someone and smiled.
Walking with a brisk pace, whistling a song, he approached the two lords, which seemed to be talking about important infrastructure matters. Not that he would know by what Fotios was writing. With a bright smile, white as a priestess’ robe, he said, “Lord Fotios, Lord Nikolias, I’m pleased to inform you that the workers’ morale is high, and they’re working efficiently. No need to thank me, though I’ll appreciate it if you do”, he said with his signature sing song voice, “Do you need my services for anything else?”
Everyone that knew Hesiodos was aware that he wasn’t a patriot. He didn’t care for king and country, and as soon as things turned ill, he would turn his tail and flee to somewhere where he wouldn’t be punctured by arrows. He was a proud Taengean, but he wasn’t going to die for the piece of soil where he was born.
But singing and motivating people that were of more moral fiber than him? He could do that without a problem.
A couple of days ago, when it was announced that the walls were going to be fortified, Hesiodos received a missive alongside a bag full of coins. It didn’t say a name, but he recognized the handwriting of the Queen Mother Myrtho. The letter asked him to use his abilities as a rhapsodist to motivate the workers as they built the walls, and offered him pay for it... after all, morale was an important part of all of this. And while Hesiodos couldn’t see himself putting on armor and taking up arms to defend the walls, he could certainly offer some peep talks to the people that were going to defend the city.
As such, he woke up with the sunrise, dressed nicely in his wine-red chlamys, picked up his lyre and sung to the workers. He had the right songs for them: having sailed before in his travels, he knew a great deal of sea shanties. Sure thing, they were for ship work, but no one would object if they used it to work on the walls, right?
And thus, the rhapsodist made the work of shantyman and sung, accompanied by the chorus of workers:
“Look to the stars, Beyond the mountains and the wild sea Follow your dreams The bravest hearts The gods will favour those who dare to seek Courageously Their destiny
Beautiful island, Bathed in the rising sun Fate's hand will guide you Traveling paths unknown Back to the warmth of home
Through storms we'll ride And battles fought under the raging sky Through watchful eyes Fearless we breathe With silent whispers through the ancient trees, Where legends grow We're leaving home
Beautiful island, Bathed in the rising sun Fate's hand will guide you Traveling paths unknown Back to the warmth of home”
Shanties were particular songs. They were made with a sort of rhythm to help the workers work more efficiently and in sync. For this, it worked well as Hesiodos sung with all the strength of his lungs, and soon enough, everyone on the walls were singing. When it was over, he took a moment to rest his voice, but from the gate, he saw a particular someone and smiled.
Walking with a brisk pace, whistling a song, he approached the two lords, which seemed to be talking about important infrastructure matters. Not that he would know by what Fotios was writing. With a bright smile, white as a priestess’ robe, he said, “Lord Fotios, Lord Nikolias, I’m pleased to inform you that the workers’ morale is high, and they’re working efficiently. No need to thank me, though I’ll appreciate it if you do”, he said with his signature sing song voice, “Do you need my services for anything else?”
Stay alive. Those were direct orders given by his wife before she had left to go to Colchis. Those were the words that he had intended to abide by while she was away and he was here. Georgios still felt as though he could have been on the boat to Egypt and he could have been help there... but he might not have kept his end of the promise he had made. He would stay alive. There had been too many ups and downs in the previous months. There was no telling what he had and what would happen if it returned or how that would affect the troops that he would take to battle.
So, Georgios of Leventi was here. While most insisted there was still plenty to watch and take care of so that he could still feel like he was an active part of the war effort, he had his doubts. He had been up in one of the points where the sea could be seen out as far as the eye could see. There was nothing official about him taking a horse along where he could see the waves rolling out there. However, so far... no ships.
The grand steed carried him down and closer to the wall where he could spot his brother from a mile away as well as he could spot a ship. That man loved nothing more than to be in charge. And it seemed more often than not that that was exactly where he was finding Fotios right now. He must be in absolute utopia standing there. Georgios couldn't help the grin that spread from ear to ear as he approached them. When within a few feet he swung from the horse to the ground. His feet hitting with a soft thud.
"Lord Fotios and Lord Nikolias." He bowed his head and then looked to the third man who was near them... that he didn't know at all. But, he didn't figure to interrupt the exchange of information that was at hand. He had no need to make himself the most important standing there - he never would be. Though, he was interested to find out if his brother was going to give this man some thanks because than Georgios was happy to ask for some of the same.
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Stay alive. Those were direct orders given by his wife before she had left to go to Colchis. Those were the words that he had intended to abide by while she was away and he was here. Georgios still felt as though he could have been on the boat to Egypt and he could have been help there... but he might not have kept his end of the promise he had made. He would stay alive. There had been too many ups and downs in the previous months. There was no telling what he had and what would happen if it returned or how that would affect the troops that he would take to battle.
So, Georgios of Leventi was here. While most insisted there was still plenty to watch and take care of so that he could still feel like he was an active part of the war effort, he had his doubts. He had been up in one of the points where the sea could be seen out as far as the eye could see. There was nothing official about him taking a horse along where he could see the waves rolling out there. However, so far... no ships.
The grand steed carried him down and closer to the wall where he could spot his brother from a mile away as well as he could spot a ship. That man loved nothing more than to be in charge. And it seemed more often than not that that was exactly where he was finding Fotios right now. He must be in absolute utopia standing there. Georgios couldn't help the grin that spread from ear to ear as he approached them. When within a few feet he swung from the horse to the ground. His feet hitting with a soft thud.
"Lord Fotios and Lord Nikolias." He bowed his head and then looked to the third man who was near them... that he didn't know at all. But, he didn't figure to interrupt the exchange of information that was at hand. He had no need to make himself the most important standing there - he never would be. Though, he was interested to find out if his brother was going to give this man some thanks because than Georgios was happy to ask for some of the same.
Stay alive. Those were direct orders given by his wife before she had left to go to Colchis. Those were the words that he had intended to abide by while she was away and he was here. Georgios still felt as though he could have been on the boat to Egypt and he could have been help there... but he might not have kept his end of the promise he had made. He would stay alive. There had been too many ups and downs in the previous months. There was no telling what he had and what would happen if it returned or how that would affect the troops that he would take to battle.
So, Georgios of Leventi was here. While most insisted there was still plenty to watch and take care of so that he could still feel like he was an active part of the war effort, he had his doubts. He had been up in one of the points where the sea could be seen out as far as the eye could see. There was nothing official about him taking a horse along where he could see the waves rolling out there. However, so far... no ships.
The grand steed carried him down and closer to the wall where he could spot his brother from a mile away as well as he could spot a ship. That man loved nothing more than to be in charge. And it seemed more often than not that that was exactly where he was finding Fotios right now. He must be in absolute utopia standing there. Georgios couldn't help the grin that spread from ear to ear as he approached them. When within a few feet he swung from the horse to the ground. His feet hitting with a soft thud.
"Lord Fotios and Lord Nikolias." He bowed his head and then looked to the third man who was near them... that he didn't know at all. But, he didn't figure to interrupt the exchange of information that was at hand. He had no need to make himself the most important standing there - he never would be. Though, he was interested to find out if his brother was going to give this man some thanks because than Georgios was happy to ask for some of the same.
Curveball These Walls of Stone
As the men and people of Vasiliadon continue to lug and carry bits and pieces around the city and ensure that the walls are settled and the defences of the capitol secure, it is with confidence and blessed relief a dozen ships are spotted on the horizon! Not long after, the flags of the Colchian forces can be seen as the war campaign led by Vangelis of Kotas comes in to make port and resupply on their fresh water and food before headed south in support of the absent King Achilleas...
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Staff Team
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As the men and people of Vasiliadon continue to lug and carry bits and pieces around the city and ensure that the walls are settled and the defences of the capitol secure, it is with confidence and blessed relief a dozen ships are spotted on the horizon! Not long after, the flags of the Colchian forces can be seen as the war campaign led by Vangelis of Kotas comes in to make port and resupply on their fresh water and food before headed south in support of the absent King Achilleas...
Curveball These Walls of Stone
As the men and people of Vasiliadon continue to lug and carry bits and pieces around the city and ensure that the walls are settled and the defences of the capitol secure, it is with confidence and blessed relief a dozen ships are spotted on the horizon! Not long after, the flags of the Colchian forces can be seen as the war campaign led by Vangelis of Kotas comes in to make port and resupply on their fresh water and food before headed south in support of the absent King Achilleas...
Xene brushed her fingers against her own jaw as she walked the perimeter of the walls. Being a woman was something that often left her discounted in the eyes of the men around her, especially when it came to wartime preparations such as these. While under normal circumstances, the princess would not have lifted a single finger to help those around her, this was war and all hands could not simply remain idle. Even hands as soft and unburdened by work as her own required some task to be completed. With King Achilleas gone off to war, Xene had found a host of things to keep herself busy and moving, not to mention the addition of her own province to look after.
While work on that front had not been important even up until now, it was still at the forefront of her mind even here and now. She understood that once the preparations were completed in order to protect the city, the people would be able to fall into some semblance of normalcy, at least until the worst happened and everyone was displaced for their own safety. Still, Xene did not feel entirely safe in her own Kingdom, so she kept her dagger hidden beneath her himation, in easy reach if she needed it.
If only to give her the slightest peace of mind.
Heron followed closely behind her, carrying one bucket of tar while Xene herself carried a bucket of oil with both hands on the handle. She had insisted that she make herself useful and she had not let anyone argue with her in the process. A few of the men working on the wall dipped their heads in quiet, reverent greeting of the woman, but she did little more than tell them to give her a task. When all was said and done, she would not be one of the women who simply sat inside and waited while the men did all of the legwork.
Such a change in her had occurred and she was no longer thinking about how it might look. The princess was simply observing what needed to be done.
Taking quick yet careful steps, Xene and Heron finally paused to put the barrels of oil and tar into their assigned places. Heron handed her a rag to wipe her hands on, which she took graciously and then glanced down the side of the wall and then out toward the water. "Heron?" she asked slowly, making a motion toward the ships on the horizon, her brows furrowing slightly.
Her guard's gaze was focused intently, standing silently for the longest time. Then he seemed to relax, glancing back toward her, "The Colchians," he said lightly, "They're heading for shore," he made note, putting a hand toward her upper back and turning her so that they could start down to the ground. They took the steps carefully, only for the two of them to run into Lord Fotios, Lord Nikolias, and Lord Georgios. Still wiping oil off of her hands, she approached them with Heron close at her back.
"My lords," she noted, glancing up toward the walls, "There are few men up there keeping an eye on the horizon," she continued, brushing one of her blonde curls out of her face. "Are you aware that the Colchian forces approach our shores or is your conversation so engaging?" she did grouse at them. Just the slightest bit. Though, her gaze rested on Lord Condos, as he was the one in charge of the walls. "Heron, my horse. Then alert the queen," she waved him off, looking to the lords before her, "Well?"
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Xene brushed her fingers against her own jaw as she walked the perimeter of the walls. Being a woman was something that often left her discounted in the eyes of the men around her, especially when it came to wartime preparations such as these. While under normal circumstances, the princess would not have lifted a single finger to help those around her, this was war and all hands could not simply remain idle. Even hands as soft and unburdened by work as her own required some task to be completed. With King Achilleas gone off to war, Xene had found a host of things to keep herself busy and moving, not to mention the addition of her own province to look after.
While work on that front had not been important even up until now, it was still at the forefront of her mind even here and now. She understood that once the preparations were completed in order to protect the city, the people would be able to fall into some semblance of normalcy, at least until the worst happened and everyone was displaced for their own safety. Still, Xene did not feel entirely safe in her own Kingdom, so she kept her dagger hidden beneath her himation, in easy reach if she needed it.
If only to give her the slightest peace of mind.
Heron followed closely behind her, carrying one bucket of tar while Xene herself carried a bucket of oil with both hands on the handle. She had insisted that she make herself useful and she had not let anyone argue with her in the process. A few of the men working on the wall dipped their heads in quiet, reverent greeting of the woman, but she did little more than tell them to give her a task. When all was said and done, she would not be one of the women who simply sat inside and waited while the men did all of the legwork.
Such a change in her had occurred and she was no longer thinking about how it might look. The princess was simply observing what needed to be done.
Taking quick yet careful steps, Xene and Heron finally paused to put the barrels of oil and tar into their assigned places. Heron handed her a rag to wipe her hands on, which she took graciously and then glanced down the side of the wall and then out toward the water. "Heron?" she asked slowly, making a motion toward the ships on the horizon, her brows furrowing slightly.
Her guard's gaze was focused intently, standing silently for the longest time. Then he seemed to relax, glancing back toward her, "The Colchians," he said lightly, "They're heading for shore," he made note, putting a hand toward her upper back and turning her so that they could start down to the ground. They took the steps carefully, only for the two of them to run into Lord Fotios, Lord Nikolias, and Lord Georgios. Still wiping oil off of her hands, she approached them with Heron close at her back.
"My lords," she noted, glancing up toward the walls, "There are few men up there keeping an eye on the horizon," she continued, brushing one of her blonde curls out of her face. "Are you aware that the Colchian forces approach our shores or is your conversation so engaging?" she did grouse at them. Just the slightest bit. Though, her gaze rested on Lord Condos, as he was the one in charge of the walls. "Heron, my horse. Then alert the queen," she waved him off, looking to the lords before her, "Well?"
Xene brushed her fingers against her own jaw as she walked the perimeter of the walls. Being a woman was something that often left her discounted in the eyes of the men around her, especially when it came to wartime preparations such as these. While under normal circumstances, the princess would not have lifted a single finger to help those around her, this was war and all hands could not simply remain idle. Even hands as soft and unburdened by work as her own required some task to be completed. With King Achilleas gone off to war, Xene had found a host of things to keep herself busy and moving, not to mention the addition of her own province to look after.
While work on that front had not been important even up until now, it was still at the forefront of her mind even here and now. She understood that once the preparations were completed in order to protect the city, the people would be able to fall into some semblance of normalcy, at least until the worst happened and everyone was displaced for their own safety. Still, Xene did not feel entirely safe in her own Kingdom, so she kept her dagger hidden beneath her himation, in easy reach if she needed it.
If only to give her the slightest peace of mind.
Heron followed closely behind her, carrying one bucket of tar while Xene herself carried a bucket of oil with both hands on the handle. She had insisted that she make herself useful and she had not let anyone argue with her in the process. A few of the men working on the wall dipped their heads in quiet, reverent greeting of the woman, but she did little more than tell them to give her a task. When all was said and done, she would not be one of the women who simply sat inside and waited while the men did all of the legwork.
Such a change in her had occurred and she was no longer thinking about how it might look. The princess was simply observing what needed to be done.
Taking quick yet careful steps, Xene and Heron finally paused to put the barrels of oil and tar into their assigned places. Heron handed her a rag to wipe her hands on, which she took graciously and then glanced down the side of the wall and then out toward the water. "Heron?" she asked slowly, making a motion toward the ships on the horizon, her brows furrowing slightly.
Her guard's gaze was focused intently, standing silently for the longest time. Then he seemed to relax, glancing back toward her, "The Colchians," he said lightly, "They're heading for shore," he made note, putting a hand toward her upper back and turning her so that they could start down to the ground. They took the steps carefully, only for the two of them to run into Lord Fotios, Lord Nikolias, and Lord Georgios. Still wiping oil off of her hands, she approached them with Heron close at her back.
"My lords," she noted, glancing up toward the walls, "There are few men up there keeping an eye on the horizon," she continued, brushing one of her blonde curls out of her face. "Are you aware that the Colchian forces approach our shores or is your conversation so engaging?" she did grouse at them. Just the slightest bit. Though, her gaze rested on Lord Condos, as he was the one in charge of the walls. "Heron, my horse. Then alert the queen," she waved him off, looking to the lords before her, "Well?"
Nikolias considered that Fotios' words about the wall hopefully being superfluous were well-meant. "May it be so," he murmured, as a prayer to the gods. "There is a twenty-four hour watch at present." He suspected some of the men had to be tired, but they never seemed to complain, knowing such measures were necessary.
Nikolias enjoyed the song sung by Hesiodos- it was one of his favorites and seemed to be a song wishing for peace. "Well done," he complimented the bard. "It is possible your services- to boost the workers' marale- may not be needed for very much longer, but if I think of any other work for you, I will be sure to let you know.
When the others arrived, Nikolias bowed to both Georgios and the princess before answering. "The Colchians are stopping off for supplies; then they are headed to Egypt to back up King Achilleas. They should likely be here no more than twenty-four hours." It was all he knew, but he hoped it would be enough to satisfy the princess. "May they get to Egypt as speedily as the gods can make possible." When he heard Xene call her servant to bring her her horse, he bowed to her before making his way down the wall. "Yes, Your Majesty."
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Nikolias considered that Fotios' words about the wall hopefully being superfluous were well-meant. "May it be so," he murmured, as a prayer to the gods. "There is a twenty-four hour watch at present." He suspected some of the men had to be tired, but they never seemed to complain, knowing such measures were necessary.
Nikolias enjoyed the song sung by Hesiodos- it was one of his favorites and seemed to be a song wishing for peace. "Well done," he complimented the bard. "It is possible your services- to boost the workers' marale- may not be needed for very much longer, but if I think of any other work for you, I will be sure to let you know.
When the others arrived, Nikolias bowed to both Georgios and the princess before answering. "The Colchians are stopping off for supplies; then they are headed to Egypt to back up King Achilleas. They should likely be here no more than twenty-four hours." It was all he knew, but he hoped it would be enough to satisfy the princess. "May they get to Egypt as speedily as the gods can make possible." When he heard Xene call her servant to bring her her horse, he bowed to her before making his way down the wall. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Nikolias considered that Fotios' words about the wall hopefully being superfluous were well-meant. "May it be so," he murmured, as a prayer to the gods. "There is a twenty-four hour watch at present." He suspected some of the men had to be tired, but they never seemed to complain, knowing such measures were necessary.
Nikolias enjoyed the song sung by Hesiodos- it was one of his favorites and seemed to be a song wishing for peace. "Well done," he complimented the bard. "It is possible your services- to boost the workers' marale- may not be needed for very much longer, but if I think of any other work for you, I will be sure to let you know.
When the others arrived, Nikolias bowed to both Georgios and the princess before answering. "The Colchians are stopping off for supplies; then they are headed to Egypt to back up King Achilleas. They should likely be here no more than twenty-four hours." It was all he knew, but he hoped it would be enough to satisfy the princess. "May they get to Egypt as speedily as the gods can make possible." When he heard Xene call her servant to bring her her horse, he bowed to her before making his way down the wall. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Late, always late. Cilissa was not tardy in the official sense of the word. She had gone on another task for her lady since they were out proving how industrious they were. This was not something she scoffed at. It was almost a relief to go help at the wall. She used to sneak in some hard labor when she could when her father wasn't looking to much of her younger lazy brother's delight. She usually made herself useful doing his bidding.
Xene and Heron were carrying out the tar and oil to places where they needed it while Cilissa was making herself useful with a bucket of water. Her bucket was also dropped, but when she was there the princess was already gone. Her attention darted one way and then another before she caught sight of her down the way by some of the Lords. Ones that she was still attempting to learn their names. Hearing about the important families of Taengea was one thing. Putting names to the faces was entirely different task.
Cili grabbed a handful of cloth at midthigh to lift up the skirt minutely so that she could go a little faster and not worry about tripping over her feet. She had never been deemed clumsy - however, she had been so terrified about embarrassing herself and sent home. Her strides slowed as she bowed her head and came up behind Xene.
Her head dipped as she turned to pay the correct respect to each of those that were around her - which was nearly almost always all of them. Finally, she set her attention to Xene with a low, somber voice. "Your Majesty, anything I can get you?" Heron would handle the horse and now she just needed her instruction.
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Late, always late. Cilissa was not tardy in the official sense of the word. She had gone on another task for her lady since they were out proving how industrious they were. This was not something she scoffed at. It was almost a relief to go help at the wall. She used to sneak in some hard labor when she could when her father wasn't looking to much of her younger lazy brother's delight. She usually made herself useful doing his bidding.
Xene and Heron were carrying out the tar and oil to places where they needed it while Cilissa was making herself useful with a bucket of water. Her bucket was also dropped, but when she was there the princess was already gone. Her attention darted one way and then another before she caught sight of her down the way by some of the Lords. Ones that she was still attempting to learn their names. Hearing about the important families of Taengea was one thing. Putting names to the faces was entirely different task.
Cili grabbed a handful of cloth at midthigh to lift up the skirt minutely so that she could go a little faster and not worry about tripping over her feet. She had never been deemed clumsy - however, she had been so terrified about embarrassing herself and sent home. Her strides slowed as she bowed her head and came up behind Xene.
Her head dipped as she turned to pay the correct respect to each of those that were around her - which was nearly almost always all of them. Finally, she set her attention to Xene with a low, somber voice. "Your Majesty, anything I can get you?" Heron would handle the horse and now she just needed her instruction.
Late, always late. Cilissa was not tardy in the official sense of the word. She had gone on another task for her lady since they were out proving how industrious they were. This was not something she scoffed at. It was almost a relief to go help at the wall. She used to sneak in some hard labor when she could when her father wasn't looking to much of her younger lazy brother's delight. She usually made herself useful doing his bidding.
Xene and Heron were carrying out the tar and oil to places where they needed it while Cilissa was making herself useful with a bucket of water. Her bucket was also dropped, but when she was there the princess was already gone. Her attention darted one way and then another before she caught sight of her down the way by some of the Lords. Ones that she was still attempting to learn their names. Hearing about the important families of Taengea was one thing. Putting names to the faces was entirely different task.
Cili grabbed a handful of cloth at midthigh to lift up the skirt minutely so that she could go a little faster and not worry about tripping over her feet. She had never been deemed clumsy - however, she had been so terrified about embarrassing herself and sent home. Her strides slowed as she bowed her head and came up behind Xene.
Her head dipped as she turned to pay the correct respect to each of those that were around her - which was nearly almost always all of them. Finally, she set her attention to Xene with a low, somber voice. "Your Majesty, anything I can get you?" Heron would handle the horse and now she just needed her instruction.
As much as he hated to admit it (and would refuse to do so if directly asked), Emilios would have to give thanks to the organization skills of Fotios of Leventi. For while the young prince had spent the majority of his adulthood gambling and whoring and enjoying the pleasures of life, Fotios had spent his as the eldest should. And the simple proof was in the efficient way the city had been brought together to reinforce the city. It was certainly something that Emilios would not have been able to do on his own. So while he was rightfully angry at the man and the power he held over his house, the young royal would not be a fool.
So he watched, and listened. And damn it if he didn’t make a point to learn a thing or two from him.
Was it so wrong that he didn’t want to be just a figurehead? Emilios wanted to show the people that he wasn’t just some idiot's youngest son. He wanted to prove that his whoring days were gone, that he could do something more than just be a playboy. Achilleas had always believed it to just be a lack of desire that drove his lackadaisical demeanor, that he could be more if he applied himself. He wanted his brother to be proud of him, to be able to trust that all would be well in his hands. But it felt nearly impossible to outrun the reputation he had spent years building. How could he manage to be something that no one thought he could be?
No, that wasn’t true. Theo thought it possible of him, to be more than he pretended to be. She pushed for him to be better, to be more than he thought he was. And he wanted nothing more than to be that for her.
But now it felt nearly impossible, especially because it seemed that Achilleas could do no wrong in her eyes. He was perfect, was everything that Emilios couldn’t be.
He’d taken to sleeping in the palati, in the wing that his family would occupy whenever they chose to stay within its walls. There had been a week where he’d stayed away, but it was just easier to play the role of regent and support to the Queen when he didn’t have to waste time in travel to find out whatever news he needed to know. And he felt like he could better keep his promise to his brother if he was under the same roof.
Plus it made it appear to Fotios as if he was doing his part of the bargain, which didn’t hurt either.
He had taken to waking early, hitting the small archery range to keep sharp on his skills before finding breakfast, sometimes with Theo, but more often without. There were rarely moments alone with her, save for the important events they both needed to attend. But his work kept him with the senate, assisting in preparing fortifications. At times, he would find himself working alongside the men and slaves, needing the hard labor to ease his mind and bring him a bit of peace in all this. If he couldn’t be fighting the battles with his brother, he would at least be doing everything in his power to make sure he had a kingdom to come home to.
It was as he was making his way back from the range that he was stopped by a servant, telling him that the Colchian ship was on the horizon and that he and the Queen were expected at the docks. Nodding, he made his way back to his rooms, quickly changing from the light chiton he was wearing prior to a thicker one of dark grey, a burgundy himation over it, gold thread weaved through the fabric. It was pinned with his usual lion’s head. There was no need for anything fancier than that, though he did choose to attach his sword at his side. While there was no aggression towards the Colchian party, he certainly didn’t wish to appear relaxed in his duty.
This was war, and he needed to appear ready for it.
High boots laced up his feet and he was out of his chambers, moving towards the private, royal wing of the palati. He didn’t need to think about his journey, having made it dozens of times when his cousins were in residence. But rarely did he find himself going to the chambers of the king and queen. There was no real time to think about his emotions, instead knocking on the door with his signature raps of three short knocks, followed by a long one then short reply. Pushing the door open at the sound of her permission to enter, Emilios stepped into the room, leaving the door open behind him.
And his jaw there as well.
’She’s not mine. She’s not mine’’ He had to remind himself as he took in the curves of her body, trying to remember why he was there.
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As much as he hated to admit it (and would refuse to do so if directly asked), Emilios would have to give thanks to the organization skills of Fotios of Leventi. For while the young prince had spent the majority of his adulthood gambling and whoring and enjoying the pleasures of life, Fotios had spent his as the eldest should. And the simple proof was in the efficient way the city had been brought together to reinforce the city. It was certainly something that Emilios would not have been able to do on his own. So while he was rightfully angry at the man and the power he held over his house, the young royal would not be a fool.
So he watched, and listened. And damn it if he didn’t make a point to learn a thing or two from him.
Was it so wrong that he didn’t want to be just a figurehead? Emilios wanted to show the people that he wasn’t just some idiot's youngest son. He wanted to prove that his whoring days were gone, that he could do something more than just be a playboy. Achilleas had always believed it to just be a lack of desire that drove his lackadaisical demeanor, that he could be more if he applied himself. He wanted his brother to be proud of him, to be able to trust that all would be well in his hands. But it felt nearly impossible to outrun the reputation he had spent years building. How could he manage to be something that no one thought he could be?
No, that wasn’t true. Theo thought it possible of him, to be more than he pretended to be. She pushed for him to be better, to be more than he thought he was. And he wanted nothing more than to be that for her.
But now it felt nearly impossible, especially because it seemed that Achilleas could do no wrong in her eyes. He was perfect, was everything that Emilios couldn’t be.
He’d taken to sleeping in the palati, in the wing that his family would occupy whenever they chose to stay within its walls. There had been a week where he’d stayed away, but it was just easier to play the role of regent and support to the Queen when he didn’t have to waste time in travel to find out whatever news he needed to know. And he felt like he could better keep his promise to his brother if he was under the same roof.
Plus it made it appear to Fotios as if he was doing his part of the bargain, which didn’t hurt either.
He had taken to waking early, hitting the small archery range to keep sharp on his skills before finding breakfast, sometimes with Theo, but more often without. There were rarely moments alone with her, save for the important events they both needed to attend. But his work kept him with the senate, assisting in preparing fortifications. At times, he would find himself working alongside the men and slaves, needing the hard labor to ease his mind and bring him a bit of peace in all this. If he couldn’t be fighting the battles with his brother, he would at least be doing everything in his power to make sure he had a kingdom to come home to.
It was as he was making his way back from the range that he was stopped by a servant, telling him that the Colchian ship was on the horizon and that he and the Queen were expected at the docks. Nodding, he made his way back to his rooms, quickly changing from the light chiton he was wearing prior to a thicker one of dark grey, a burgundy himation over it, gold thread weaved through the fabric. It was pinned with his usual lion’s head. There was no need for anything fancier than that, though he did choose to attach his sword at his side. While there was no aggression towards the Colchian party, he certainly didn’t wish to appear relaxed in his duty.
This was war, and he needed to appear ready for it.
High boots laced up his feet and he was out of his chambers, moving towards the private, royal wing of the palati. He didn’t need to think about his journey, having made it dozens of times when his cousins were in residence. But rarely did he find himself going to the chambers of the king and queen. There was no real time to think about his emotions, instead knocking on the door with his signature raps of three short knocks, followed by a long one then short reply. Pushing the door open at the sound of her permission to enter, Emilios stepped into the room, leaving the door open behind him.
And his jaw there as well.
’She’s not mine. She’s not mine’’ He had to remind himself as he took in the curves of her body, trying to remember why he was there.
As much as he hated to admit it (and would refuse to do so if directly asked), Emilios would have to give thanks to the organization skills of Fotios of Leventi. For while the young prince had spent the majority of his adulthood gambling and whoring and enjoying the pleasures of life, Fotios had spent his as the eldest should. And the simple proof was in the efficient way the city had been brought together to reinforce the city. It was certainly something that Emilios would not have been able to do on his own. So while he was rightfully angry at the man and the power he held over his house, the young royal would not be a fool.
So he watched, and listened. And damn it if he didn’t make a point to learn a thing or two from him.
Was it so wrong that he didn’t want to be just a figurehead? Emilios wanted to show the people that he wasn’t just some idiot's youngest son. He wanted to prove that his whoring days were gone, that he could do something more than just be a playboy. Achilleas had always believed it to just be a lack of desire that drove his lackadaisical demeanor, that he could be more if he applied himself. He wanted his brother to be proud of him, to be able to trust that all would be well in his hands. But it felt nearly impossible to outrun the reputation he had spent years building. How could he manage to be something that no one thought he could be?
No, that wasn’t true. Theo thought it possible of him, to be more than he pretended to be. She pushed for him to be better, to be more than he thought he was. And he wanted nothing more than to be that for her.
But now it felt nearly impossible, especially because it seemed that Achilleas could do no wrong in her eyes. He was perfect, was everything that Emilios couldn’t be.
He’d taken to sleeping in the palati, in the wing that his family would occupy whenever they chose to stay within its walls. There had been a week where he’d stayed away, but it was just easier to play the role of regent and support to the Queen when he didn’t have to waste time in travel to find out whatever news he needed to know. And he felt like he could better keep his promise to his brother if he was under the same roof.
Plus it made it appear to Fotios as if he was doing his part of the bargain, which didn’t hurt either.
He had taken to waking early, hitting the small archery range to keep sharp on his skills before finding breakfast, sometimes with Theo, but more often without. There were rarely moments alone with her, save for the important events they both needed to attend. But his work kept him with the senate, assisting in preparing fortifications. At times, he would find himself working alongside the men and slaves, needing the hard labor to ease his mind and bring him a bit of peace in all this. If he couldn’t be fighting the battles with his brother, he would at least be doing everything in his power to make sure he had a kingdom to come home to.
It was as he was making his way back from the range that he was stopped by a servant, telling him that the Colchian ship was on the horizon and that he and the Queen were expected at the docks. Nodding, he made his way back to his rooms, quickly changing from the light chiton he was wearing prior to a thicker one of dark grey, a burgundy himation over it, gold thread weaved through the fabric. It was pinned with his usual lion’s head. There was no need for anything fancier than that, though he did choose to attach his sword at his side. While there was no aggression towards the Colchian party, he certainly didn’t wish to appear relaxed in his duty.
This was war, and he needed to appear ready for it.
High boots laced up his feet and he was out of his chambers, moving towards the private, royal wing of the palati. He didn’t need to think about his journey, having made it dozens of times when his cousins were in residence. But rarely did he find himself going to the chambers of the king and queen. There was no real time to think about his emotions, instead knocking on the door with his signature raps of three short knocks, followed by a long one then short reply. Pushing the door open at the sound of her permission to enter, Emilios stepped into the room, leaving the door open behind him.
And his jaw there as well.
’She’s not mine. She’s not mine’’ He had to remind himself as he took in the curves of her body, trying to remember why he was there.
Fotios watched as his brother approached. Whilst he said nothing out loud of the man's health - and had said nothing out loud of it - the way in which he assessed the man as he dismounted and approached spoke of a concern for his health that was more subtle than most would notice and paid Georgios the grace of not drawing attention to his recent history of illness. Instead, he offered Georgios all the greeting of a simple glance before looking back upon his duties.
When Nikolias reported that they had a twenty-four-hour watch upon the walls, Fotios made a single mark upon the clay that had been rimmed in a wooden frame, his gaze looked back towards the man expecting more...
"If you can get me a full break down of names, systematic teams and the rotation with which the men are carrying that out, Lord Nikolias, I can provide you with more men to shorten shifts and ensure wakeful accuracy." It sounded like a polite offer of help but was more an instruction. Fotios wanted that complete list because he wanted to know anything and everything of any situation.
In this, his brother was correct in his mentality that Fotios liked to be in charge. But he was faulty in the assumptions that all such plans and missions around the fortifications of the city were an enjoyable experience for Fotios. Normally, within his own House, he was in control. Even if he was forced to delegate tasks, they were offered to those he had personally trained, who knew his expectations and his processes. He knew that any and all tasks would be completed to the highest standards or occupations would be revoked and individuals removed from their standing as his subordinates. Given that Fotios paid his men well, such a threat was enough to ensure perfection.
Yet, now, when the men given authorisation over such tasks were his peers and not his employees, Fotios was left with only the frustration of all vision and no whip to see it through. And whilst no Head of a Dynasteia could ever be accused of being a complete mooncalf (even the Prince Regent), Fotios held little to no illusions that he was by far the superior of them on a cerebral level.
The fact that they failed to measure up was just a continuing irritation throughout this whole process.
When the bard came to mention his work in encouraging the morale of the men, Fotios' brows rose a little at his impetuous nature and his belief that he could simply walk up to Heads of state and speak with them on a casual basis. The bard from Phossis was becoming more and more famous and it was doing his ego no favours to assume he was welcome at the hand of his betters. Yet, his career continued to soar. Fotios decided not to make comment on such a thing and simply ignored the man, allowing Nikolias to simper and discuss with him as if the rhapsodist was his equal!
Fotios mildly wondered if Nikolias had taken some kind of head injury recently or if he was becoming senile with age. That was all they needed. Though... Fotios filed such a piece of observation away for later. Senility came with its own benefits of manipulation and sway.
His attention caught by the appearance of the princess, Fotios stood with care and offered the women the respectful, shallow bow that was due to her. Whilst she was no longer a royal of the direct line of succession, she was born a princess and a princess she would stay. Though Fotios thought it a little excessive that the Condos lord decided to offer her the title of 'majesty'. Instead, Fotios spoke along the lines of etiquette, offering no pander or compliment to the words.
"The ships were expected within these few days, Your Highness." He offered. His glance was offered towards the main gates that led down to the docklands and beach land of Vasiliadon. "Their appearance is of little surprise but I am certain that Lord Nikolias will be able to ensure that we are the first to know such things in future."
His tone gave away no personal emotion or additional interest in the princess that he would not have offered six months previous. His features were carefully constructed into something polite and detached and he rarely met Xene's gaze as he spoke.
Looking towards his brother, Fotios nudged the angle of his head towards the gates in question.
"As the Prince Regent is detained, perhaps we should offer the Colchians a welcome reception on the beaches, Georgios." The then looked upon Xene's retainer who had appeared at her side. She was new and not one that Fotios knew in great detail, for his report upon her background was still in production through his network. In a few days, he would know all he needed, but for now he was forced to step carefully in ignorance.
"The day is hot, Lady Cilissa." He offered her. "Perhaps the princess would require an awning of shade if she wishes to accompany us outside of the city?" For on the beach there would be no walls or structures to bathe the streets in cool shadow.
And leaving such a suggestion in the air between them, Fotios started towards the gates, his last glance towards his brother in a silent expectation that he follow...
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Fotios watched as his brother approached. Whilst he said nothing out loud of the man's health - and had said nothing out loud of it - the way in which he assessed the man as he dismounted and approached spoke of a concern for his health that was more subtle than most would notice and paid Georgios the grace of not drawing attention to his recent history of illness. Instead, he offered Georgios all the greeting of a simple glance before looking back upon his duties.
When Nikolias reported that they had a twenty-four-hour watch upon the walls, Fotios made a single mark upon the clay that had been rimmed in a wooden frame, his gaze looked back towards the man expecting more...
"If you can get me a full break down of names, systematic teams and the rotation with which the men are carrying that out, Lord Nikolias, I can provide you with more men to shorten shifts and ensure wakeful accuracy." It sounded like a polite offer of help but was more an instruction. Fotios wanted that complete list because he wanted to know anything and everything of any situation.
In this, his brother was correct in his mentality that Fotios liked to be in charge. But he was faulty in the assumptions that all such plans and missions around the fortifications of the city were an enjoyable experience for Fotios. Normally, within his own House, he was in control. Even if he was forced to delegate tasks, they were offered to those he had personally trained, who knew his expectations and his processes. He knew that any and all tasks would be completed to the highest standards or occupations would be revoked and individuals removed from their standing as his subordinates. Given that Fotios paid his men well, such a threat was enough to ensure perfection.
Yet, now, when the men given authorisation over such tasks were his peers and not his employees, Fotios was left with only the frustration of all vision and no whip to see it through. And whilst no Head of a Dynasteia could ever be accused of being a complete mooncalf (even the Prince Regent), Fotios held little to no illusions that he was by far the superior of them on a cerebral level.
The fact that they failed to measure up was just a continuing irritation throughout this whole process.
When the bard came to mention his work in encouraging the morale of the men, Fotios' brows rose a little at his impetuous nature and his belief that he could simply walk up to Heads of state and speak with them on a casual basis. The bard from Phossis was becoming more and more famous and it was doing his ego no favours to assume he was welcome at the hand of his betters. Yet, his career continued to soar. Fotios decided not to make comment on such a thing and simply ignored the man, allowing Nikolias to simper and discuss with him as if the rhapsodist was his equal!
Fotios mildly wondered if Nikolias had taken some kind of head injury recently or if he was becoming senile with age. That was all they needed. Though... Fotios filed such a piece of observation away for later. Senility came with its own benefits of manipulation and sway.
His attention caught by the appearance of the princess, Fotios stood with care and offered the women the respectful, shallow bow that was due to her. Whilst she was no longer a royal of the direct line of succession, she was born a princess and a princess she would stay. Though Fotios thought it a little excessive that the Condos lord decided to offer her the title of 'majesty'. Instead, Fotios spoke along the lines of etiquette, offering no pander or compliment to the words.
"The ships were expected within these few days, Your Highness." He offered. His glance was offered towards the main gates that led down to the docklands and beach land of Vasiliadon. "Their appearance is of little surprise but I am certain that Lord Nikolias will be able to ensure that we are the first to know such things in future."
His tone gave away no personal emotion or additional interest in the princess that he would not have offered six months previous. His features were carefully constructed into something polite and detached and he rarely met Xene's gaze as he spoke.
Looking towards his brother, Fotios nudged the angle of his head towards the gates in question.
"As the Prince Regent is detained, perhaps we should offer the Colchians a welcome reception on the beaches, Georgios." The then looked upon Xene's retainer who had appeared at her side. She was new and not one that Fotios knew in great detail, for his report upon her background was still in production through his network. In a few days, he would know all he needed, but for now he was forced to step carefully in ignorance.
"The day is hot, Lady Cilissa." He offered her. "Perhaps the princess would require an awning of shade if she wishes to accompany us outside of the city?" For on the beach there would be no walls or structures to bathe the streets in cool shadow.
And leaving such a suggestion in the air between them, Fotios started towards the gates, his last glance towards his brother in a silent expectation that he follow...
Fotios watched as his brother approached. Whilst he said nothing out loud of the man's health - and had said nothing out loud of it - the way in which he assessed the man as he dismounted and approached spoke of a concern for his health that was more subtle than most would notice and paid Georgios the grace of not drawing attention to his recent history of illness. Instead, he offered Georgios all the greeting of a simple glance before looking back upon his duties.
When Nikolias reported that they had a twenty-four-hour watch upon the walls, Fotios made a single mark upon the clay that had been rimmed in a wooden frame, his gaze looked back towards the man expecting more...
"If you can get me a full break down of names, systematic teams and the rotation with which the men are carrying that out, Lord Nikolias, I can provide you with more men to shorten shifts and ensure wakeful accuracy." It sounded like a polite offer of help but was more an instruction. Fotios wanted that complete list because he wanted to know anything and everything of any situation.
In this, his brother was correct in his mentality that Fotios liked to be in charge. But he was faulty in the assumptions that all such plans and missions around the fortifications of the city were an enjoyable experience for Fotios. Normally, within his own House, he was in control. Even if he was forced to delegate tasks, they were offered to those he had personally trained, who knew his expectations and his processes. He knew that any and all tasks would be completed to the highest standards or occupations would be revoked and individuals removed from their standing as his subordinates. Given that Fotios paid his men well, such a threat was enough to ensure perfection.
Yet, now, when the men given authorisation over such tasks were his peers and not his employees, Fotios was left with only the frustration of all vision and no whip to see it through. And whilst no Head of a Dynasteia could ever be accused of being a complete mooncalf (even the Prince Regent), Fotios held little to no illusions that he was by far the superior of them on a cerebral level.
The fact that they failed to measure up was just a continuing irritation throughout this whole process.
When the bard came to mention his work in encouraging the morale of the men, Fotios' brows rose a little at his impetuous nature and his belief that he could simply walk up to Heads of state and speak with them on a casual basis. The bard from Phossis was becoming more and more famous and it was doing his ego no favours to assume he was welcome at the hand of his betters. Yet, his career continued to soar. Fotios decided not to make comment on such a thing and simply ignored the man, allowing Nikolias to simper and discuss with him as if the rhapsodist was his equal!
Fotios mildly wondered if Nikolias had taken some kind of head injury recently or if he was becoming senile with age. That was all they needed. Though... Fotios filed such a piece of observation away for later. Senility came with its own benefits of manipulation and sway.
His attention caught by the appearance of the princess, Fotios stood with care and offered the women the respectful, shallow bow that was due to her. Whilst she was no longer a royal of the direct line of succession, she was born a princess and a princess she would stay. Though Fotios thought it a little excessive that the Condos lord decided to offer her the title of 'majesty'. Instead, Fotios spoke along the lines of etiquette, offering no pander or compliment to the words.
"The ships were expected within these few days, Your Highness." He offered. His glance was offered towards the main gates that led down to the docklands and beach land of Vasiliadon. "Their appearance is of little surprise but I am certain that Lord Nikolias will be able to ensure that we are the first to know such things in future."
His tone gave away no personal emotion or additional interest in the princess that he would not have offered six months previous. His features were carefully constructed into something polite and detached and he rarely met Xene's gaze as he spoke.
Looking towards his brother, Fotios nudged the angle of his head towards the gates in question.
"As the Prince Regent is detained, perhaps we should offer the Colchians a welcome reception on the beaches, Georgios." The then looked upon Xene's retainer who had appeared at her side. She was new and not one that Fotios knew in great detail, for his report upon her background was still in production through his network. In a few days, he would know all he needed, but for now he was forced to step carefully in ignorance.
"The day is hot, Lady Cilissa." He offered her. "Perhaps the princess would require an awning of shade if she wishes to accompany us outside of the city?" For on the beach there would be no walls or structures to bathe the streets in cool shadow.
And leaving such a suggestion in the air between them, Fotios started towards the gates, his last glance towards his brother in a silent expectation that he follow...
Despite the personal chaos that Vangelis had left behind him in Colchis or the bloody combat that he might see in his future on the Egyptian sands, the journey between the two had been surprisingly uneventful. The storms that normally began to plague the Colchian shores at this time of year were late to arrive and had left the waters of the Aegean clear and calm. Able to employ the sails at full strength, the Colchian fleet had sailed through to Taengea in no more than twelve days, cutting the time of their voyage by precious hours.
Frustratingly, such a time would be lost once more in the docking, reloading and then launching of the vessels once more from Taengea, but such a stop was necessary. If they were to be assured fresh drinking water and food that would last both the sail to Egypt, the length of whatever battles they were forced to face and then the return to Grecian land, they needed to resupply come their proximity to the southern kingdom.
Yet, Vangelis would ensure that it was carried out in the fastest manner possible and had no intention for the Colchian fleet to rest upon the Taengean beach lands for more than a single solar cycle. They would dock. The men that had been inactive for nearly two weeks would be forced to utilise their restocking as a form of exercise, stretching their muscles through speed and effort. Then they would relaunch. Regardless of the hour or light. It was Vangelis' intention that the water and meat in their cargo hold was replenished as quickly as possible and the boats would then immediately set sail once more.
As the horizon was broken by the first signs of the city of Vasiliadon, Vangelis was noted the change in the skyline from the last few times he had laid eyes upon it. At first, it was only the height of the walls that seemed different, masking the irregular and cuboid cityscape of the capitol within. Then, as they sailed closer, Vangelis recognised the defensive measures upon the beaches that had been formed - great spikes of dark wood that restricted landing craft upon the sand. As they got ever nearer, there were dozens of dark shapes moving over the open beach like insects - men that busied about their duties of defence.
There was a dark arm stretching from the capitol's main gates down to the beach - wooden slats that formed a long dock that welcomed the Colchian forces. Vangelis recognised it as the sort of easy build that his own soldiers constructed whenever they landed in the Northern Lands; a temporary dock that could be burnt or removed when enemies were in sight. His scouts, hanging from the mast above called down to his ear the estimated length of the dock and how many of the Colchian vessels would be able to make it to shore. Vangelis raised a hand to confirm his understanding and then called for the captain's caller.
When they were near enough that such orders would be made clear, Vangelis instructed the bugler of the ship to communicate his orders to the others. The notes that transcended over the air, passing through the rush of the waters that broke upon the sterns of the ships. The notes were a code of conduct - a message in sound - that gave his instructions to the other captains.
Six ships were to approach the docks, one at a time, so as to avoid collision, and load their cargo. The others were to fall in in order, walkways and planks arranged between them for the sailors and soldiers of each ship to pass goods from one to the other. Like an insect - six long chains of connection. It was a common set up and structure that the men would be familiar with. Their speed of restock would simply be reliant on the pace of the men and how prepared Taengea was for their requests for supplies. For, whilst the Colchian ships had likely arrived only a few days after the missives he had sent ahead of them, the Taengeans were more than aware that any delay in replenishing their holds was a delay in moving to support their king.
Pushing aside all thoughts of relations, engagements, impending fatherhood and the duties that awaited him back home, Vangelis focused on the procedure for docking and called out the necessary orders to the Captain in command of his sailors. Permitted to take the lead by his father, Vangelis had the Colchian forces ready for shallow waters and pulling into the temporary docking pillars quickly and was the first to walk the wooden plank down to the slatted walkway, even as ropes were still being tied to secure the vessel.
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Despite the personal chaos that Vangelis had left behind him in Colchis or the bloody combat that he might see in his future on the Egyptian sands, the journey between the two had been surprisingly uneventful. The storms that normally began to plague the Colchian shores at this time of year were late to arrive and had left the waters of the Aegean clear and calm. Able to employ the sails at full strength, the Colchian fleet had sailed through to Taengea in no more than twelve days, cutting the time of their voyage by precious hours.
Frustratingly, such a time would be lost once more in the docking, reloading and then launching of the vessels once more from Taengea, but such a stop was necessary. If they were to be assured fresh drinking water and food that would last both the sail to Egypt, the length of whatever battles they were forced to face and then the return to Grecian land, they needed to resupply come their proximity to the southern kingdom.
Yet, Vangelis would ensure that it was carried out in the fastest manner possible and had no intention for the Colchian fleet to rest upon the Taengean beach lands for more than a single solar cycle. They would dock. The men that had been inactive for nearly two weeks would be forced to utilise their restocking as a form of exercise, stretching their muscles through speed and effort. Then they would relaunch. Regardless of the hour or light. It was Vangelis' intention that the water and meat in their cargo hold was replenished as quickly as possible and the boats would then immediately set sail once more.
As the horizon was broken by the first signs of the city of Vasiliadon, Vangelis was noted the change in the skyline from the last few times he had laid eyes upon it. At first, it was only the height of the walls that seemed different, masking the irregular and cuboid cityscape of the capitol within. Then, as they sailed closer, Vangelis recognised the defensive measures upon the beaches that had been formed - great spikes of dark wood that restricted landing craft upon the sand. As they got ever nearer, there were dozens of dark shapes moving over the open beach like insects - men that busied about their duties of defence.
There was a dark arm stretching from the capitol's main gates down to the beach - wooden slats that formed a long dock that welcomed the Colchian forces. Vangelis recognised it as the sort of easy build that his own soldiers constructed whenever they landed in the Northern Lands; a temporary dock that could be burnt or removed when enemies were in sight. His scouts, hanging from the mast above called down to his ear the estimated length of the dock and how many of the Colchian vessels would be able to make it to shore. Vangelis raised a hand to confirm his understanding and then called for the captain's caller.
When they were near enough that such orders would be made clear, Vangelis instructed the bugler of the ship to communicate his orders to the others. The notes that transcended over the air, passing through the rush of the waters that broke upon the sterns of the ships. The notes were a code of conduct - a message in sound - that gave his instructions to the other captains.
Six ships were to approach the docks, one at a time, so as to avoid collision, and load their cargo. The others were to fall in in order, walkways and planks arranged between them for the sailors and soldiers of each ship to pass goods from one to the other. Like an insect - six long chains of connection. It was a common set up and structure that the men would be familiar with. Their speed of restock would simply be reliant on the pace of the men and how prepared Taengea was for their requests for supplies. For, whilst the Colchian ships had likely arrived only a few days after the missives he had sent ahead of them, the Taengeans were more than aware that any delay in replenishing their holds was a delay in moving to support their king.
Pushing aside all thoughts of relations, engagements, impending fatherhood and the duties that awaited him back home, Vangelis focused on the procedure for docking and called out the necessary orders to the Captain in command of his sailors. Permitted to take the lead by his father, Vangelis had the Colchian forces ready for shallow waters and pulling into the temporary docking pillars quickly and was the first to walk the wooden plank down to the slatted walkway, even as ropes were still being tied to secure the vessel.
Despite the personal chaos that Vangelis had left behind him in Colchis or the bloody combat that he might see in his future on the Egyptian sands, the journey between the two had been surprisingly uneventful. The storms that normally began to plague the Colchian shores at this time of year were late to arrive and had left the waters of the Aegean clear and calm. Able to employ the sails at full strength, the Colchian fleet had sailed through to Taengea in no more than twelve days, cutting the time of their voyage by precious hours.
Frustratingly, such a time would be lost once more in the docking, reloading and then launching of the vessels once more from Taengea, but such a stop was necessary. If they were to be assured fresh drinking water and food that would last both the sail to Egypt, the length of whatever battles they were forced to face and then the return to Grecian land, they needed to resupply come their proximity to the southern kingdom.
Yet, Vangelis would ensure that it was carried out in the fastest manner possible and had no intention for the Colchian fleet to rest upon the Taengean beach lands for more than a single solar cycle. They would dock. The men that had been inactive for nearly two weeks would be forced to utilise their restocking as a form of exercise, stretching their muscles through speed and effort. Then they would relaunch. Regardless of the hour or light. It was Vangelis' intention that the water and meat in their cargo hold was replenished as quickly as possible and the boats would then immediately set sail once more.
As the horizon was broken by the first signs of the city of Vasiliadon, Vangelis was noted the change in the skyline from the last few times he had laid eyes upon it. At first, it was only the height of the walls that seemed different, masking the irregular and cuboid cityscape of the capitol within. Then, as they sailed closer, Vangelis recognised the defensive measures upon the beaches that had been formed - great spikes of dark wood that restricted landing craft upon the sand. As they got ever nearer, there were dozens of dark shapes moving over the open beach like insects - men that busied about their duties of defence.
There was a dark arm stretching from the capitol's main gates down to the beach - wooden slats that formed a long dock that welcomed the Colchian forces. Vangelis recognised it as the sort of easy build that his own soldiers constructed whenever they landed in the Northern Lands; a temporary dock that could be burnt or removed when enemies were in sight. His scouts, hanging from the mast above called down to his ear the estimated length of the dock and how many of the Colchian vessels would be able to make it to shore. Vangelis raised a hand to confirm his understanding and then called for the captain's caller.
When they were near enough that such orders would be made clear, Vangelis instructed the bugler of the ship to communicate his orders to the others. The notes that transcended over the air, passing through the rush of the waters that broke upon the sterns of the ships. The notes were a code of conduct - a message in sound - that gave his instructions to the other captains.
Six ships were to approach the docks, one at a time, so as to avoid collision, and load their cargo. The others were to fall in in order, walkways and planks arranged between them for the sailors and soldiers of each ship to pass goods from one to the other. Like an insect - six long chains of connection. It was a common set up and structure that the men would be familiar with. Their speed of restock would simply be reliant on the pace of the men and how prepared Taengea was for their requests for supplies. For, whilst the Colchian ships had likely arrived only a few days after the missives he had sent ahead of them, the Taengeans were more than aware that any delay in replenishing their holds was a delay in moving to support their king.
Pushing aside all thoughts of relations, engagements, impending fatherhood and the duties that awaited him back home, Vangelis focused on the procedure for docking and called out the necessary orders to the Captain in command of his sailors. Permitted to take the lead by his father, Vangelis had the Colchian forces ready for shallow waters and pulling into the temporary docking pillars quickly and was the first to walk the wooden plank down to the slatted walkway, even as ropes were still being tied to secure the vessel.
His arms crossed over his chest as he listened to the interactions between the others that were in the circle here near the wall. His attention drifted only when they had started talking about the ships that carried the help the Taengeans needed. Course, their men were trained like any good soldier, but the Colchis had made military a lifestyle. They could easily be the key to the victory if Georgios had an suspicion. He was in no place to be making opinions on that. There was a very good reason why he had chosen to stay behind rather than take to the battlefield with those more advantageous.
It was all important, but he had very little to add to the conversation. Fotios was the head of the family and could pull more men from where he wanted to. Georgios would help with delivering the information on the shifts, but he was happy to just be told where to go - especially when it was for something like military.
Eventually, a nod of agreement with his brother's words. "That sounds like a sound idea." Georgios still had assumed that all had been well with Colchis. His wife and daughters were in a ship that would follow some days after this fleet was gone. Perhaps that was a benefit to the prince they were going to go greet. A nod to the others in the party in case they were not going to be joining them at the beach. He then wasted no time as he made his way following the wall when he could down.
Georgios stepped to the slats of the temporary dock with no trepidation thanks to his ignorant bliss. The Leventi rooted himself as the ships were closer and closer to the pillars ready to disembark for the supplies that had already been prepared and ready to trade empty and stale items with fresh rations. He stood with good posture, not that it would ever allow him to be as tall as the prince from Colchis. Workers around the starting to weave meticulously to the ropes and tying the crafts in place.
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His arms crossed over his chest as he listened to the interactions between the others that were in the circle here near the wall. His attention drifted only when they had started talking about the ships that carried the help the Taengeans needed. Course, their men were trained like any good soldier, but the Colchis had made military a lifestyle. They could easily be the key to the victory if Georgios had an suspicion. He was in no place to be making opinions on that. There was a very good reason why he had chosen to stay behind rather than take to the battlefield with those more advantageous.
It was all important, but he had very little to add to the conversation. Fotios was the head of the family and could pull more men from where he wanted to. Georgios would help with delivering the information on the shifts, but he was happy to just be told where to go - especially when it was for something like military.
Eventually, a nod of agreement with his brother's words. "That sounds like a sound idea." Georgios still had assumed that all had been well with Colchis. His wife and daughters were in a ship that would follow some days after this fleet was gone. Perhaps that was a benefit to the prince they were going to go greet. A nod to the others in the party in case they were not going to be joining them at the beach. He then wasted no time as he made his way following the wall when he could down.
Georgios stepped to the slats of the temporary dock with no trepidation thanks to his ignorant bliss. The Leventi rooted himself as the ships were closer and closer to the pillars ready to disembark for the supplies that had already been prepared and ready to trade empty and stale items with fresh rations. He stood with good posture, not that it would ever allow him to be as tall as the prince from Colchis. Workers around the starting to weave meticulously to the ropes and tying the crafts in place.
His arms crossed over his chest as he listened to the interactions between the others that were in the circle here near the wall. His attention drifted only when they had started talking about the ships that carried the help the Taengeans needed. Course, their men were trained like any good soldier, but the Colchis had made military a lifestyle. They could easily be the key to the victory if Georgios had an suspicion. He was in no place to be making opinions on that. There was a very good reason why he had chosen to stay behind rather than take to the battlefield with those more advantageous.
It was all important, but he had very little to add to the conversation. Fotios was the head of the family and could pull more men from where he wanted to. Georgios would help with delivering the information on the shifts, but he was happy to just be told where to go - especially when it was for something like military.
Eventually, a nod of agreement with his brother's words. "That sounds like a sound idea." Georgios still had assumed that all had been well with Colchis. His wife and daughters were in a ship that would follow some days after this fleet was gone. Perhaps that was a benefit to the prince they were going to go greet. A nod to the others in the party in case they were not going to be joining them at the beach. He then wasted no time as he made his way following the wall when he could down.
Georgios stepped to the slats of the temporary dock with no trepidation thanks to his ignorant bliss. The Leventi rooted himself as the ships were closer and closer to the pillars ready to disembark for the supplies that had already been prepared and ready to trade empty and stale items with fresh rations. He stood with good posture, not that it would ever allow him to be as tall as the prince from Colchis. Workers around the starting to weave meticulously to the ropes and tying the crafts in place.