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...if you're not familiar with a certain current sci-fi program, this might not be as funny to you as it was to me.  But the sentiment is still there.

Enjoy!

Aurelius stepped into the throne room with a stride more arrogant than he felt.  It wasn’t so much that he felt awed by the King… he remembered when he first saw him, marching in line behind the other young men from Poitain who’d gathered under his banner.  He was a far-off figure astride a horse, seeming somehow larger despite riding among Poitain’s nobility dressed in their finest, glistening armor and blue-dyed horsehair-festooned helms.  Later, when he stood to address the troops before battle, Aurelius could barely hear the deep baritone shouts of the Cimmerian over the din of the host around him.  Men coughing, speaking in low tones to one another, armor chinking against armor… he only new to shout in agreement when the men at the front ranks started shouting.

((I’ve done my best to capture the events of this weekend from Aurelius’ point of view, touching on some points, dropping a few here and there.  I didn’t chatlog anything (I’d kill for a decent chatlogger in the game!), so most of the conversations are from memory and as honest as I can recall))

Aurelius had barely slept the last forty-eight hours.  The dust and stink of all Hyborea’s lands still clung to him, even on the clothing he’d worn beneath his armor.  Every muscle ached, from battle, from travel, from the lack of sleep.  Yet, he still could not sleep.

He could only watch her as she slept.

Aurelius stepped into the alley, the door to the Green Man creaking quietly shut behind him.  He'd participated in many a war council in many a tavern, from the clouded rankness of the Salty Dog to an unnamed tavern, more a barn, in Brandoc Village.  He'd seen alliances come and go in his time as a mercenary commander and the Company he lead had fought for or against most of them.

But this war council had been different.  Throughout all the turmoil and strife of these last few months, the King's Guard of Poitain had always been the unlikeliest, yet the staunchest, of friends.