The Vagrant's Tale - Ch. 16

“To say it went well,
The first time they spoke,
Was too great a lie
To even dare joke!

Though much they wanted
That day to discuss,
Soresh and Osmaard
Moved only to fuss!”

- Excerpt from the “The Ballad of Jysalef”, as Written by Gulosc the Bard

Chapter 16: “Disgust My Senses”

The oaken table, whereupon sat the dinner that Tallus Osmaard had - a short while back – invited our band of travelers to eat with him at, was - as far as tables went - an unremarkably round and standard seeming affair; situated about this table were five equally unremarkable chairs of a design, and material composition, which suggested they were all meant to be part of one contiguous set. The arrangement of food presently placed upon this ordinary looking table, despite being anything but higher dining, was a most welcome sight to our journeying three; this was especially true from the viewpoint of Latte who - for the first time in a very long while – was partaking of a meal she did not herself have a hand in the preparation thereof. Both Jysalef Soresh, as well as Terus Kyreon, were – for the purposes of this meal – each presently situated directly next to Tallus Osmaard himself; as for Latte, she – for the moment - had taken up residence in the chair seated next to Terus that the house’s owner was not currently using.

It should be noted that Tallus’s house itself - perhaps as a result of his dwelling not also doubling as an orphanage – had within it a preponderance of both books, as well as a multitude of writing implements, to be found sitting freely strewn about; rather than merely all being relegated to the confines of a single secluded room of study, as they had been back at Miran Via’s place within the town of Elpsiod.

Tallus, first pausing to pour wine into the chalice that was currently situated before Jysalef Soresh, declared with a smile, “Although there is much of which I presently wish to speak with you on, I will first - as I promised earlier - explain why my current facial appearance is in a manner you were not prepared to see.”

Jysalef, still greatly embarrassed by the fact he had earlier moved to openly call out this man – whom had studied directly under the great Miran Via himself - smiled sheepishly back at Tallus Osmaard as the man began his elaboration upon the matter that had almost lead them to an altercation in the first place.

As Tallus gave his explanation to Jysalef of why he lacked the regally mandated facial growth that was required of all Corsinthian Sages, his eyes began to take on a distant quality to them while he thought back to days gone by, “It is true that all officially recognized sages are required by royal mandate to carry about upon their countenance a beard of a most prodigious nature; but, I myself am not required to do any such thing since I chose by my own free will to drop out of my studies before I could graduate.”

Jysalef, whom had - in an attempt to act like a gracious dinner guest - just taken a sip from the wine filled chalice set before him, immediately began choking on the wine in his mouth when he heard Tallus so nonchalantly declare the above. After he had finally quelled the surprise induced choking, Jysalef looked up towards the scholar with a most incredulous expression upon his face as he dumbfoundedly asked, “But why on all of Theria would anyone, most particularly someone with talents enough to impress Miran Via into training them personally, just merely walk away from such an esteemed position when they were nearing graduation?”

Tallus, in response to very much expected statement of incredulity that had just come forth from the former Corsinthian Soldier, sighed heavily as he started to explain the logic which ruled his seemingly mad actions back in those times of yore, “At the time that I was nearing my graduation as a sage from the Grand Cathedral in Dulsnik, we were still in the thick of that ridiculous dispute with the nation of Skrande. During those days the monarchy was forcefully employing all the sages they could lay their hands on, whether willing to serve or not, so as to ascertain as quickly as possible a way to resolve the conflict with Skrande before the rapidly growing treasury problems generated by the war could reach a critical point of boiling over. As someone who found the entire ordeal to be beyond preposterous, I simply could not possibly allow myself to graduate if it would surely mean that my talents would be forcefully drafted in the service of such a sad affair.”

“A ‘Sad Affair’!?” screamed forth Jysalef Soresh with great venomous indignation towards what the scholar sitting as his side had just declared, “How in the name of all that his divineness has seen fit to place breathing and alive upon the world of Theria could our righteous crusade against those vile sub-human heathens in Skrande ever be described so flippantly as a sad affair?! Perhaps you have been dwelling with the dirt that takes up lodging on the underside of a boulder these last few decades, for I seem to recall the murderous actions of one Death Hawk whom – with great zeal - set both women and children ablaze for the honor of that so called ‘holy bitch’ they follow!”

Before Jysalef could say anything more in his diatribe about how Tallus was a simpleton for not understanding why the Skrandonese people so desperately needed to be eradicated from all of Theria, the Scholar loudly slammed both of his palms against the table so forcefully that all of the dining ware jumped from the impact, “I guess perhaps then that the Corsinthian Military doesn’t ever tell you anything at all about everything they’ve been up to, or maybe they did and you were so high on your worthless rhetoric that you couldn’t bring yourself to care, but the fact is that the people of Skrande only ordered Draezooh’nyawc to come over here - and do what he did - after we ourselves first gave the order for men to do the same unto them!”

Jysalef Soresh, incapable of sitting still any longer just to listen to more of the obscene perversity that was issuing forth from mouth of the dementia filled man sitting next to him, forcibly grabbed Tallus’s shirt with one hand while he held his free hand cocked back shaking with rage, “You utterly mad and delusional liar, not a single soul that I ever met in the entirety of Corsinthia’s formerly grand army ever once engaged in any such debased inhuman acts against those filthy lands of Skrande; ours was a mission to save those inhuman heathens from themselves by force, regardless of how unlikely it was that they were worthy of such salvation, which most certainly did not include orders to do so by becoming more contemptible and vile than the scum we were trying help! If it wasn’t for the fact that the great Miran Via himself urged me to discuss your utterly inept oracular vision with you, I would henceforth place you head upon your own floor and begin to repeatedly bludgeon your mentally aborted brain inward for so daring to slander the many great men whom I watched die just so that you and other might presently still be alive to-“

Before Jysalef could issue forth another word of his very stern warning to the man so freely willing to slander the fine men of Corsinthia’s army that he fought alongside in the war against Skrande, the entirety of Tallus’s house shuddered and quaked as a loud sound filled the air that was as if something very large and massive had just fallen unbidden out of the skies above into main square of the vendor clogged streets of Kyosem City. For the two youths whom had – for a wide ranging variety of reasons – only a few short moments earlier been gawking with wide-eyed abject horror at the rapidly escalating altercation between Jysalef Soresh and Tallus Osmaard, the invocation of the great din that shook the foundation of scholar’s dwelling could be seen as nothing short of a blessing sent straight from his great divineness. Almost immediately after this argument interrupting noise had quelled its great vibrations, a truly disturbing chorus of blood-curdling screams filled with both panic and fear erupted forth from everywhere all at once outside the walls of Tallus’s book filled house.

Contemptfully tossing the scholar aside - so that he might more properly unsheathe his blade - Jysalef henceforth bolted for the outside - where currently a magnificent choir of fear was being belted out – all the while furiously calling back over his shoulder as he left the establishment, “Know this, you ill-minded traitor, I am not yet done having words with you upon the matter of just how much you disgust my senses!”

Terus, drawing his own sword as he moved to give chase after his mentor in swordsmanship during this obvious time of peril to the population of Kyosem City, spat in Tallus’s direction as he ran towards the house’s exit himself as well. Whether or not Soresh had displayed a complete and total lack of all etiquette just now was not what presently - at the moment - bothered this youth the most, his father had been one of the soldiers that this man - whom had most assuredly never once in his life witnessed a single ounce of action - was presently declaring to be part of an effort that was purportedly needing to be held in just as much contempt as those enacted by the Skrandonese men he had met back in Elpsiod. Because of all that, there was currently little he could think of that would see him disagreeing with his instructor’s assertations that the man they had been sent to speak with was most assuredly touched in the head.

Latte – meanwhile - not wanting to be left behind within the midst of this currently present sea of screams, ringing forth from all throughout the city of Kyosem, quickly thrust herself up from the floor of the scholar’s home and immediately thereafter bolted forth to catch up with Terus as quickly as she possibly could. Although - truth be told – if the pink haired girl had known what was actually waiting for the three of them outside in the vendor filled streets of Kyosem, she might have instead chosen to remain inside with the scholar until it all was done.