Hater. Ignoramus. War-monger. These were all words used by the new Etzori generation to describe the folks who took up the mantle of the old ways.
Lover. Peacebringers. Tolerance. These where all words that the new generation used to describe themselves. They thought themselves a new revolution. Some even thought that total faith in Immortals would solve all their problems.
Gangui was also included in this new generation, however he did not think like most of the others in his age group. Nor did the valiant men who joined Turkey Company.
Honor. Loyalty. Sacrifice. These were the words that Gangui used. These were the words used to describe the old ways of living a life defending what those built before you. Accepting responsibility for the society that was being passed down to them.
Alas, being a patriot had gone out of style in the atheistic state known as Etzos. In fact, most people abhorred the idea. Immortal worship was at an all time high. The Spirit of Man was not flowing through the veins of the youth. The valiant stand of Pahrn and his retainers was seemingly coming to a dwindle.
Gangui thought otherwise. He thought he would rekindle the spark of 338, or at least that is what he told himself at the break of each and every day. This day was no different than the rest; he had pursued a long day of work only to find that he had much more work to accomplish, both personally and as an organization. When he learned of these things he would write them down in on parchment and paper, which hopes of one day creating a guide to navigating the battle field of the free market and enacting pragmatic change on society.
Rule 4: Keep your shit together
An stone tower on the Southwood River Delta.
Morning time. Late-Suan
“Shell-loniaaaaaaaa!” A mustache quivered as the Ith’ession command came forth from deep within.
Three dozen shields where raised over head at the same time, covering the armored troop of Turkey Company soldiers.
“Offiiiiceeeeeeeeee!” Gangui blew another guttural command to proceed towards the enemy.
Turkey Company was attacking a tower belonging to a rich man named Trawlat. The dispute? The fact that he wouldn't give up his Tunawa slaves. After the death of his beloved friend Niv, the Burning Tunawa Banner had been risen, and throughout the land they rode bringing justice to the only race that was still under slavery in Etzos. Some supported Gangui calling his actions just, others called him a rogue cop, but mostly people didn't care about Tunawa issues and ignored it.
Unfortunately for Gangui, the man had defenses and was not willing to stand down. So ridiculous was this event, an audience had gathered that day to watch the battle. There was even a family having a picnic and an apprentice historian taking notes on the unfolding event.
Anyways, to the casual spectator the sound of what was going on would be as large wad of metallic newspaper crinkling; the grunting, the spiting, the cursing, the vomiting, the clamor of wood rubbing on metal, the wizzing of arrows and their thudding. These all culminated in a single sound, like an orchestra. A sound that would be ingrained into the minds of all spectating that day.
Morning time. Late-Suan
“Shell-loniaaaaaaaa!” A mustache quivered as the Ith’ession command came forth from deep within.
Three dozen shields where raised over head at the same time, covering the armored troop of Turkey Company soldiers.
“Offiiiiceeeeeeeeee!” Gangui blew another guttural command to proceed towards the enemy.
Turkey Company was attacking a tower belonging to a rich man named Trawlat. The dispute? The fact that he wouldn't give up his Tunawa slaves. After the death of his beloved friend Niv, the Burning Tunawa Banner had been risen, and throughout the land they rode bringing justice to the only race that was still under slavery in Etzos. Some supported Gangui calling his actions just, others called him a rogue cop, but mostly people didn't care about Tunawa issues and ignored it.
Unfortunately for Gangui, the man had defenses and was not willing to stand down. So ridiculous was this event, an audience had gathered that day to watch the battle. There was even a family having a picnic and an apprentice historian taking notes on the unfolding event.
Anyways, to the casual spectator the sound of what was going on would be as large wad of metallic newspaper crinkling; the grunting, the spiting, the cursing, the vomiting, the clamor of wood rubbing on metal, the wizzing of arrows and their thudding. These all culminated in a single sound, like an orchestra. A sound that would be ingrained into the minds of all spectating that day.
