Party fit for a king.

[Eban]

Eban slowly rolled his freshly packed cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, trying to remember Friday night; it was fully packed, round, and for the most part straight. It was worthy. He set one end in his mouth, lighting the other with the candle on his desk. “Wha’ a crazeh nigh’” Eban muttered to the dim stone around him. He was right, in fact the entire idea behind it was a bit strange.

Kaylor had been talking about renouncing his right to his throne, back in his home land; so that he may better serve the empire. Eban couldn’t let his friend give up a crown, without at least enjoying the comforts of it for a night.

It had been settled, Friday would been the last day of kaylor’s royalty; after the party, they would make it seem that he had been poisoned, and died peacefully in his sleep.

Smoke cascaded from the smoldering rolling paper as he took another drag, a smile starting to form. To make the night more interesting, eban had put a few drops of his new addiction into his famous import whiskey. The last, and only time he had used his concoction was the night with laurana, and she ended up dying her hair. Of course he didn’t use that much, only a drop or two to liven things up.

Eban had convinced kaylor that his throne room was no fit for such a meeting, and ended up dragging him and ancy to a local pub a few miles ride from the palace. It was a quaint setting, weathered wooden stools, cheep chandeliers, and plenty of a crowd once the word got out that their king, and one of the local hero’s were in town.

Songs were song of kaylor’s acts as king, of eban’s fearless battle with the dread mage rhianna. After the first round of moonshine made it’s way through the people, eban already noticed his brew at work. At the beginning of the night, he had promised kaylor that they would “make the men green, and the women scream.” So far, they were working on both. A few friendly bar spars were held, demonstrating their drunken strength against the local farmers; paired with dancing with half the women of the town.

It was sad really, kaylor had promised himself to god, and yet on this day he had the pick of the litter. Eban patted kaylor’s shoulder as he sat beside him at the bar, muttering under his breath. “Da onleh screams yer goin’ ta beh ‘earin wif dat attiduhe, is “tease” mate.” Kaylor grinned, taking another swig from the increasingly tasty whiskey.

“Big words coming from the man keeping it covered to stay true to his wench.”

“A’ leas’ ah ‘ave a chance wif mine, mate. Goot luck gehhin aneh from God.” Eban grinned, before returning to the noticeably impaired dancing crowd.

He shook his head, leaning back in the chair, honestly the rest of the night was a blur. He vaguely remembered a stripping contest, among some competition that required oils and a large floor space. He woke up in a loin cloth, sprawled across the bar, with a half-full bottle in his hand.

Kaylor, naturally was gone. Off to “die”. Not eban, nor the people of the land had seen a smile on kaylor’s face that compared to the one of that night. They would remember this night, remember their leader in song, as one who shared with the lowly, who brought a smile to those whom he saw.

He crushed the cigarette into his home made ash tray, tossing his gear randomly as he entered his bedding chambers. He really should try catching up with Kaylor, would be nice to know if he could remember anything else.

[Kaylor]

*post deleted by author*

Edited November 8, 2009 by Kaylor
Removed Explicit Content

[Kaylor]

*post deleted by author*

Edited November 8, 2009 by Kaylor