Thread: The Allure of the Uniform

So you're telling me that this whole alliance is over resources? The soldier was seemingly stunned by such a comment, taking a brief sip of his ale. He was but a mere boy it seemed, though he was a soldier by the looks of his chain-mail and crimson tabard. The other two men seemed to be engaged in a game a chess beside him, each man over-looking the simple checkered board as a battlefield, inquiring of their next move. Exactly, Cadia has no interest in this kingdom beyond it's wealth, do you honestly think our people would like to be allies with these hedonists for any other reason? The soldier's tone seemed annoyed, his hand rubbing over his cleanly shaven head as he moved a pawn forward, looking to his opponent with his a raised brow. His opponent moved his rook in response, blocking off the pawn's path. The boy beside them seemed still quite dumbfounded, taking yet another nervous sip of his ale. He seemed quite imposed by the two men before him, as he was but a new recruit, yet to receive his trial by fire. I don't think their hedonists, they are just enjoying life, when you don't have war you don't need to be so stri- The poor boy was cut off as the bald soldier had struck him across the head, sparking a painful whimper from the recruit. There is a reason we are one of the oldest kingdoms, Joey! The man barked at the recruit, sighing as he looked back to the chessboard. We know the only way to survive is to fight, and even if fighting isn't necessary, you have to make sure the enemy knows you are always ready to fight. That means no lallygagging, no playing around, Cadia is a soldier in itself, every man and woman knows their duty, you should of learned that in training. The man scolded, moving his knight about the board. Joey nodded, biting his lip as he rubbed at his short mesh of brown hair. His training was of harsh physical exercises and hours worth of lecture of Cadia, why they fight and how to fight. Joey listened, but was still applying it. He was but mere boy. Joey had looked to the bald man's opponent, watching him yet again block his elder's path with a decisive move. You shouldn't be so hard on him Frank, he's ignorant, we all were, he'll learn his own way. This particular voice came from the opponent of the bald man known as Frank. He was dressed as the other two, clad in chain-mail. Frank looked to him with a raised brow, sighing. I suppose you're right, he agreed as he took a move with his queen. Check, he replied with a victorious like grin, crossing his arms. The opponent ran a finger along his own blond chinscruff, observing the purposed 'check'. Joey, one day you'll be like Frank, scolding young soldiers to mind their role in society, their eternal job. The opponent commented as he placed his finger over his own queen, slowly idling the piece back and fourth. Sooner or later you'll see everyone as a threat, you'll think taverns are homes of criminals, that merchants secretly deal in slaves, that every wizard has a daemon hiding somewhere, all you'll know is fighting and evil, that once you stand you will never be able to sit again, that the world will reveal it's true ugly colors and you will either win, or lose. Wow Ivan, Joey said, rather astonished by his words. Frank himself was smiling, rather proud of his opponent's words. I taught you well boy, he commented as he shifted in his seat, leaning back with a soft of accomplishment. Ivan looked to Frank, giving a muffled chuckle. Too well, he pitched in as he moved his queen in direct sight of Frank's queen. Checkmate, he said as he gave a lax salute, sliding out of the booth. Frank was immediately stunned with shock, looking over the current game. Bloody hell, how'd you- Frank was about to ask his opponent of his move, but Ivan was already out of the tavern, leaving but him and the boy. He cornered your king hiding behind your pawns, Frank. Joey stated, peering over the board. Oh shut it! Frank said, striking Joey upon the head once again. -------------------------------------------------------------------- Ivan was a well-rounded soldier. He wasn't entirely bulky, but he wasn't a twig either. He was the symbolic image of a soldier, a soldier many aspired to be. He had the scars, all of them did. One particular one that curved along the right side of his nasal bridge, curving down to rest an inch or two above his lip. Not many men had the ability to survive frontal blows, but Ivan did, and was kept quite handsome to boot. Neatly groomed blond hair, with a matching trimmed facial hair that dotted mostly his chin, with a pair of complementary sideburns. It was one of the reasons he was the figure-head of his particular squad of men. Frank was the highest ranking, but the General purposed he would meet with the nobles of Erilin, as such a people would probably feel more comfortable with a young spokesperson. As such Ivan was found himself in the castle's main room an hour or two after the chess game. He was clad in the same armor, but it was heavily polished, with a sporting cape that bore his country's chosen insignia, a bull. He was directed by the various servants to await the daughter of the king, who was apparently getting ready for the banquet, in which his own lord would be attending at week's end. His eyes, the brilliant hues of blue, seemed to briefly look about the magnificent castle. Instead of coats of arms, he found portraits and statues, vibrantly dressed servants instead of royal guards. The place was such a sharp contrast to his own lordship's castle, he felt a tad uneasy. But it wouldn't be seen. As a soldier, he was trained to hide such futile emotions. Even in the presence of friends, never let them see one sweat. Even then, he surely didn't feel at home.