many a bladed man

“It’s only too many if you aren’t having fun anymore. Unless you’re a man of fertility. Then who knows who gets to win that lottery.

a brow quirked upwards as his eyes were drawn to the sword, “—–ah, of course.” some sort of knight or adventurer was sure to be full of stories of battle and conquest. rogan was actually intrigued now.

he took a few small puffs from his cigar as he mulled over the right story to tell. he’d been alive for literal centuries, rogan had stories upon stories to tell, but finding one that might actually impress a swordsman might be a bit difficult. he hummed in thought, “—–i could tell you of the time i managed to charm a camp of mountain giants into doing my bidding. that one always seems to impress over drinks.” rogan supposed telling it in this particular situation wasn’t much different.“sound interesting ??”

Oh, it’s just as like, the mage would know his audience. With the joy of a man too youthful for his age, but metered through the smoke of his recent acquisitions, Ygran settled in where he was seated, attention fully leveled at the man, now.

Notes he’d missed before were filtering into his notice. The man’s build, the way filled his robes rather fully, the weight of presence he had, the confidence he sat with. Perhaps he’d gotten a little in over his head on this one. Ygran’s eyes widened at the story’s premise. He definitely bit off more than he could chew. here.

Ramsden tries to recall any of the names thrown at him, but cannot. His recognition of mercenary groups within Valtolia was admittedly null; there were far more pressing matters in the kingdom that required his complete attention. At the very least, Ygran didn’t seem outwardly dangerous, especially not in his current state.

“If you were Valtolian, then I suppose there’s no need to impose a tax on you for it,” he says, taking the moment to admire the handsome stranger’s face. “Your partner? Is he nearby? Seems awfully bold to sneak inside the borders of a kingdom you used to be part of on your own. I may even respect such a move.”

“Really? None of them?” For a second, the knight’s taken aback. “Perhaps I’m not the master of single-sword styles as I like to say I am.” But then it’s back to all smiles. “Well, if anyone decides to challenge me on it, I’ll prove them wrong.”

The man gets his full attention again -- and, goodness, that’s a good amount of man. Ygran pulls up the bag that’s moderately stuffed with leaves. “Taxes on this?” He asks. “What if I share with you what I already have prepared? Clears the mind, lets you ring like a bell.” But, of course, things likely wouldn’t be so simple. “Leonidas? He had some other business to attend to, which meant I could be here gathering now. And I wasn’t sneaking, as far as I knew. War’s off, not thieving or fighting,” His gaze travels down the knights body, hovers at his crotch for just a few seconds too long, then diverts to the weapon at his side. “At least not yet.”

“Now, as tempting as that does sound…

        I believe I’m more than conent with settling for just one man in our quarters for now. That man being oh, about tall enough to use me as a pillow, with the wildest mane of hair I’ve every encountered. Also incredibly fond of bragging about his sword handling skills to anybody he comes across.” A slow breath, even as he settles his arms around the other.

“Truly? That man sounds like a lot of effort.

“My answer would take time. If I was ever to….go through that process, I’ve only had one man in mind for it. I’ve sworn my sword to King Myre and his House, and if it’s what he deemed necessary for the kingdom, then I’d have a talk with Leonidas about it first.

If he said he was okay with it, then I’d chug the potion and return to Obasi within the day.If he said he wasn’t, then I’d find a way for us to escape the kingdom by nightfall.”

“I do believe the occasions in which some of the other knights decided to accept your rather brazen invitations would count as orgies, Yg. Although we do seem to have had a dwindling number of them in recent years. I seem to be getting boring in my old age."

“Not all the time, but it’s not unheard of. Without the king’s support, Leonidas and I wouldn’t have our current position as knights. Our contracts were carried over from the king before the civil war, and he respected our decision not to involve ourselves in who should rule Medes after he died.

 King Obasi is a wise man. And a skilled man. And a heavy cummer. All fine qualities in a ruler and occasional companion.”

“What’s the smallest number that still counts? Three? Seven? Five?

“I’ve held many swords in my life – real and metaphorical, mind you. This particular blade, no. Though the weight would probably rest quite nicely along one’s inner walls, settling low and heavy–

“Before the joust. I was needed for some…extra attentions, to our King Myre of Medes. Despite any concerns, I sat rather comfortably upon my mount, enough to win my first bout. Even while feeling the width of him still stretching me open, along with all he’d left behind.”

“well, if it eases your mind, i’ve brought my own.” rogan, true to his word, began digging about in a small leather pouch fastened to his belt and withdrew a thickly rolled cigar. once placed between his lips, rogan snapped his fingers and ignited the cigar with a spark of flame. a deep draw left a thick cloud of smoke hanging in the air as he exhaled

he looked up a brow quirked quite curiously now at the other, “how about an eye for an eye? i tell you a story, you tell me one, it only seems fair.

And if that wasn’t a relief. The difference between his and the newcomers’ bundles of choice were clear -- the other’s appeared meant to taste and puff on, Ygran’s meant to be inhaled and held. He’d had the more cigar-like ones before, and preferred the heavier buzz.

Admittedly, the stranger’s introduction sparked some curiosity in the Valtolian knight. You were?” Ramsden inquired, unsure if he believed the claim. It was his job as a knight to approach strangers with suspicion first; trusting outsiders too easily could’ve led their entire kingdom to ruin, and Ramsden didn’t want to be the one responsible for such an event.

The name didn’t sound familiar, but Ramsden was also required to represent his people with at least some modicum of hospitality when they entered Valtolia’s borders. “I am Ramsden Reeve, knight of the Valtolian court,” he said coldly. “You’re here alone, yes? I won’t be ambushed by your associates when I’m not looking? And what, may I ask, are you doing in Valtolia if you’re no longer Valtolian?”

“I was Valtolian.” He tried to think of which company he served, when the colors were silver and teal. “Ulrich Manyblade?” He watched the broad man, waiting for a response. “Diamondhilt, maybe?” His head fell to the side, and his hair flopped over with it. “Was in so many mercenary bands it’s hard to keep track of who was where, and when.”

Ygran pulled in a long breath, then relaxed. “And I’m here to collect more of this,”, he said as he held his currently burning bundle of dried leaves up, wrapped in thin parchment. “I’m alone -- my partner’s not with me, honestly I don’t even know if he’s a fan of the stuff. All these years together, and I never thought to ask.” That puts a pause on his thoughts, just for a second, before he continued. “If there’s a tax or tithe to pay, then I’ll pay it, as long as I’m handled with the respect due a knight of a kingdom with which Valtolia currently maintains peace.”

the    PARTICULAR    scent of heady smoke was what had drawn rogan to the other’s  location. he had no interest in the man producing said smoke, but was looking for a spot where he wouldn’t be bothered by people asking him to take his own personal cigar’s elsewhere among the city.

his gaze narrowed, the look of annoyance for the other’s words gone in the blink of an eye as he straightened up. “—–i didn’t know there was a toll for standing about doing next to nothing. your price seems quite steep.”  

“Most that come by when I’m having some for myself often assume I’m to share.” Ygran’s brows rose, taking the man in entirely -- taller than him, of course, but most were. Wider than him, definitely. More...golden than him, too. Ygran blinked a few times, his focus briefly wavering.