CJV

 

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Everything is fine, until he poo in his leather shorts.

“It’s that all what you’ve got, half-brother?”, Breandan Forsythe, bragged. Man armored all in black, on his head was an antler helm. He wielded his hakdomiutrium steel sword’s edge, glimmered as it moved up and swept down clanging through Rhaegor Snow’s sword, with his mail shirts over brown leather and steel caps with stag crests. Rhaegor didn’t mind his brother’s braggadocios, he continues to fought him. Another went wallop through his chest. “No more, don’t hit me, I yield! “, he shrilled. “On your feet, brother.”, Breandan called with a smirking smile. “I hope tomorrow you’ll do better”. He was the best swordsman in their country, heir to the throne, a formidable fighter in duels and he fought wars to protect their country from foreign invaders.

He went to Rachdale, a rich city and once they invaded but they didn’t succeed, it was dark country town with numerous small houses and structures spread around a valley floor. He looks his appearance on the water. “You’re the best swordsman who ever lived”, he mumbled. The water smiles back. He flexes his arms and wield his sword and dances, swift and sudden. Upon hearing something moving under the bushes he halts. “Come out whoever you are, This instance!“, he demands. A man appeared with his mail shirts over boiled leather and steel caps with stag crests, It’s Rhaegor. “Bloody hell, you scared the hell out of me!”, Breandan sighed. “Inya kukwaem dita, kasla kala tanga-tanga itta?”, said Rhaegor. “I’m just sword dancing, bastard!”, he replied. “Come, we’ll have a drink, bastard”.

They went to a tavern, from the outside it looks depressing, broken and unfriendly. Hard wooden planks and hard wooden beams make up most of the building’s outer structure. It’s tough to see through the high windows, but the lifelessness from within can be felt outside. “One barrel of beer, for me and two mugs for my half brother!”, Breandan shouted. “Make it fast!”. The steward gets his order as fast as he can. “Here’s your order, sire!”, steward stuttered. He guzzled the strong black beer till he’s satisfied. “Who’s here’s going to challenge me on a combat, eh?”, he bragged. He pointed his sword to everyone. “You!?”, he shouted. “I challenge you two in a combat”. He pointed his sword to Ser Mo Lang and Ser Ko Lang, who are drunk. “I don’t fight a combat with a foolish arrogant man like you!”, Ser Ko Lang replied. “I want war!”. People inside the tavern were chattering can’t believe what they’ve encountered. “No! What are you doing? Father will be mad”, Rhaegor urged. “Bastard, this is the time to take another step on conquering this country!”, Breandan whispered. “We’ve lost two thousand men, when we invaded this country”, Rhaegor replied. Breandan didn’t mind his half brother, he knew that they have powerful allies to conquer the country. “In the morning, then!”, Breandan declared. “Let’s go, bastard”.

“This is what I am waiting for, son”, the king exclaimed. “Send a raven to all our vassals”. They were all preparing for the strategy for the siege, they have seven hundred archers, one thousand and one cavalry and two thousand warriors. The bells seem loud, clanging from the tower. People yammering, moving through inside their houses. The sky was filled with darkness, horses snorting and men were chattering. “Prepare to charge!”, the warden yelled. “Cavalry charged!”. Swords clanging, blood spurted through the ground. Men were snarling and squealing as the ground became greasy with gore. Breandan shows his ability, decapitate his enemy who’s near him. “Archers, knock your arrows!”, Rhaegor called. “Wait, I don’t tend to kill our army! Now, loose!”. A storm of arrows whizzed and fizzed through the battleground. Men were screaming and screeching as the ground became slippery with sludge. Blood and internal organs spread around the battlefield. Rachdale’s army were retreating. “We surrender!”, Ser Ko Lang screamed. “Retreat! Retreat!”. They ran fast as their blood spurts. “We were defeated, Why we didn’t talked about truce!, Pakalaing ka met gamin”, Ser Mo Lang argued.

Everyone was happy of their victory. The sound of music spilled through their room. Men were chattering and mimicking about how their enemies being killed. “Everyone, Thank you for helping us taking the Rachdale, I owe you all and for that let’s have a toast”, Breandan smirked. “Enjoy all the foods we’ve prepared!”. They enjoyed the roasted chicken with savory gravy, delicious pumpkin soup and sparkling malt wine. Breadan seems hungry, and for the mean time he ate two of the roasted chicken. “Kayat ko pay, nagimas kaimimas jay balasang ijay Rachdale!”, he laughed and get another chicken. The woman he’s referring was there crying in her robe. Laughter continues all around the room. Breadan eyes were widen with fear. Rhaegor fingers curl around his neck, pressing, closing. His face begins to turn into a sickening color as his sight start to close in on him. He clawed his fingers at his hands uselessly and used his last breath to scream for help. His mouth bloated with strips of roasted chicken. “He’s chocking, help!”, Rhaegor cried. All the soldiers were panicked. The king were frightened and leads to death. Rhaegor cried and strangled himself to death because he knew that he’ll be the king and he doesn’t want the throne. The room is filled with grief and sorrow.

Their bodies were burned inside their own old wooden casket.

 

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