Amddiffynfa Artoros (- threads, 136 posts)
    Ehangwen (135 posts)
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    Artoros' Hall. ...
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    Author: * Artoros Dumnonii - 6 Posts on this thread out of 15 Posts sitewide.
    Date: Nov 22, 2007 - 04:38

    ~Bathing~

    Artoros looked at himself in the looking glass, only to see an older, more worn man than he was expected to see. His life was full of tragedy beginning from when he was small, and his father died leaving him a bastard. His eyes, yet only 20 summers long held the grace of a man twice, even 3 times his age. He looked long into thtat mirror into himself wondering what could come from what he had to offer. Angels in the hearts of men? Why does tragedy thrill me so?

    The thunder rolled among the many storm clouds that gathered at Artoros' borders. The universe is hostile, as it has always been. Devour to survive, so it is, and so it had always been.

    "We will devour tonight." Artoros thought as he looked into his weathered face in the mirror.

    "If I could I'd wish it all away. My peace of mind, my security, my eyes!"

    Artoros scraped what he thought was the last section of facial hair from his throat. He then noticed that another section of facial hair was bothering him.

    "What have I done to be cursed with this?" Artoros cried out into the mirror. "What have I done?"

    But it was that Artoros had done, but perhaps he did not remember that. But if one were to think that they would be wrong, just as I am right now.

    Artoros did remember what he had done. He finished up shaving his beard, though carefully leaving his royal moustache. He put his shaving kit up after rinsing it off, and looked at himself one last time before heading to the party.

    "You are the saviour and the hero. You're the one." He told himself in the partially broken mirror.

    The rain pounded down on the outside of the gates, as if Gwynn ap Nudd himself was pounding on it, saying "I have come home. Give me my home!"

    But Artoros would take care of this false god just as he did the others. Systematically and carefully.

    If he wanted to unite the Britons, it would have to be under one god. Artoros knew this, and kept a clever eye on the men he kept around him, and an even closer eye on strangers.

    Artoros looked at himself one last time in the mirror, and then headed out to meet his guests.


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