siglms_ 228 Share Posted February 8 (IMAGE MADE WITH DALL-E 3/BING AI)A FRIENDLY CHAT Ogmios, a Cingedoz Highlander, would travel to Bodbwodz each morning. Wherever he may have been the previous night, he’d always travel to the home built by his dear friend, Cunimind, and visit his grave. Ogmios would chat casually with his fallen friend each time he'd visit. “Cunimund.” Ogmios would smile, sitting next to his friend's grave, “It’s good to see you.” “Things haven’t been great.” He’d start, “I’ve yet to find any of our kin, unfortunately. It’s been a long search, but, I haven’t seen a single wandering Cinged soul— besides myself. I don’t know where else to look.” “You always had a way of gathering people.” He’d continue, “When you spoke, people listened. I’m not good at that.” “But, when you fell in battle and the barony was razed, it turned everything into a ghost town.” Ogmios would grumble, “Why couldn’t you have just killed the bastard?” “You could’ve done amazing things, Cunimund— fantastic things! Even more than you already have done.” He’d continue, his face showing more signs of anger than mourning, “Couldn’t you have cut his leg while you were down? Couldn’t you have called for help?” He’d stand, beginning to yell, “Couldn’t you have done… something?!” After he finished he’d realize that he was, in fact, yelling at a grave. He’d sigh, sitting down again. “I’m sorry. I wish I could’ve been there. But, it wouldn’t have been honorable. You made a decision, and, it had consequences.” “I don’t know what to do, Cunimund. What could I do to find our people? What could I do to keep them alive?” Ogmios would plead, “Please, tell me. Could you for me at least that?” There’d be no response, just the noise of wind blowing leaves. He’d sigh. “I know I’ve not been around. I want to change that— I do. But, I don’t know how.” He’d sigh, “You always told me something… I can’t remember what it was exactly, but, you’d always lead me to the right path. Even as a young fella, you knew what I could do to help.” -- “But, now you’re gone— and I don’t know what to do for my own people.” He’d rub his face, trying to get rid of any tears that have now sullied some of his warpaint. “Maybe I’ll find out someday.” Ogmios would stand, patting the grave with his hand, and begin to leave. “You meant a lot to me, Cunimund. You meant a lot to every one of us.” He’d continue, “I just hope, wherever you are, that you’re proud of what you’ve accomplished.” Ogmios would step down, exiting through the mountain pass. 5 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ibn Khaldun 7729 Share Posted February 8 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮 Spoiler He knew his hand would not be visible where he placed it, but he placed it anyway. Within his ethereal placement of the Seven Skies, Cunimund watched through the limestone portal. peeking between the engraved letters of his name to Ogmios. His hand could not break through the barrier between his resting place and the cold air of the Langkettes that permeated through the humble barony. Ogmios in his warpaint contrasted against the dark tones of the earthen-dun wall that ringed Bodbwodz in the background. "Rally our folk by the carnyx, play its dirge in battle and at moments where man's soul quivers before uncertainty. Dash against dark foe until the Cingedoz banner is memorized by all who are rallied by your daring. Pay heed not to cast your doubt against any who wish to adopt our traditions, not all sea-faring vessels are build in our shape." Cunimund knew not if his advice would be heard or be inspiration in the mind of Ogmios. 3 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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