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| Origins and Searching | Started by: Telemachus on May 13, '09 18:23 |
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As far back as he could remember - the cool and gentle breeze off the Aegean offered much solace. As a boy, he would sit down on the beach and sketch in the damp sand, only for the tide to erode his labors. When he grew bored of his efforts, he's stare out at the level horizon. "Where is papa?" He'd ask, his answer would be her indistinct motion towards the naked sea. Telemachus' father was out there somewhere. His precious mother would tell him stories of a valiant man, who was cruel on the outside but kind and compassion at the heart. The day he left - there was a horrid tempest. The heavens mourned the fallen - as far off in Tyrnavos cannons roared and did flee Greeks so noble. She mourned another defeat - for her beloved marched off as a soldier of fortune, perhaps to never return. News of Larissa's fall came to her ears, she spent those early days throwing up by the piss pots, not only because of sadden defeat of her countrymen and perhaps the loss of her love, but also morning sickness - as the seed had been planted. Like the wars of the past the olive branch waved and the men returned to their wives. He never returned, nor news of his fate. In his place, was born a son and uncanny the circumstance he was named Telemachus "faraway fighter." Telemachus grew up like any other boy, he worked, he played, and he aspired to do great. He aspired to be as valiant as the man in his mother's stories and when he came to the right age, he become a conscript in the army... And like his father's exodus for glory and battle - the heavens mourned his flight from home. His mother stood in the threshold, her tears mixed with the rain as she said good bye to her son, from the back of an army truck - Telemachus waved hoping to bring honor and pride to her and to himself. He'd soon find out war is hell. |
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Lightening crackled across the sky, their fiery tongues cried and thundered across the valleys below Olympus. Perhaps Aries fitted his helm as Greece prepared for war. Tensions had accumulated between the member nations of the Balkan League and the Ottoman Empire. It seemed like only yesterday - a Greek defeat was celebrated across the Aegean by the Turks - '97 still hit the nerve close to home and it's in that very war Telemachus' father was thought lost. The prospect of glory and reprisal was unanimous in his docile coastal village, it felt right and thus he found himself in a encampment on the hills of Thessaly - not far from some hamlet called Sarantaporo. Just weeks earlier Telemachus had conscripted with the Hellenic Army. The fortifications were modest, being filled with rain soaked canvas, mud and young Greeks eager to avenge their countrymen's defeat sixteen years earlier. Not a soul in the camp got decent shuteye, perhaps it was the horrid conditions, or maybe the anxiety, or maybe the excitement before battle certain tomorrow. Like his brothers-in-arms lay amidst the ground awaiting the tempest tomorrow would bring, he rolled and thrashed about to find comfort on the bleak and damp earth. "Relax, your going to wake the others." A calm yet stern voice whispered. |
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| Reply by: Telemachus at May 18, '09 23:49 | |
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Dionysus had seen Telemachus rolling in either a nightmare, or in fright of the next morning. All of the men had in the camp felt the same. The unease of what would happen the next day on the hill. Tomorrow was going to be the defining factor in everyone's life here, and they were scared shitless. Dionysus was no exception to this, he just hid it better. Telemachus was one of the few that had kept his head this far, the though of war had shaken many men to the bone, and we couldn't stand to lose him to the insanity's of war. "Relax, your going to wake the others" Dionysus whispered. "We will need everyone to be at least semi rested for tomorrow. All hands on deck they say. Tomorrow should be a day of glory for the Hellenic Army if all goes as planned." Reaching down, he offered a hand to Telemachus "Get up from that mud pit, you won't find rest there. At least when your awake the nightmares of your mind can't scar your conscious thought. Come have some coffee with me, we only have a few hours left." |
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| Reply by: Dionysus at May 18, '09 23:50 | |
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He climbed from the ground, once on his feet gently dusted of his garments and followed his comrade outside, being careful not to trip over those trying to sleep, along the way. Despite the storm earlier, it was now calm - the rain had stopped and the clouds cleared allowing the moon and it's brilliant to illuminate the hills and valleys below. The silence in the camp and the countryside was uncanny; aside the occasional cough or snore from the nearby tents. The two continued to walk until they reached the mess tent. It was empty saved a few officers who were gathered playing cards and entertaining each other, they didn't notice the two conscripts enter. Steamed rolled off of the kettle - his insides were colder then Hades, a warm drink should do the trick. "Coffee sounds good right about now - so, what do they call you?" |
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| Reply by: Telemachus at May 19, '09 00:12 | |
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Dionysus took his time answering, pouring himself and his comrade a cup of coffee and sitting at the table near by I hope you like your coffee black. Milk and sugar should be saved until at least a week in. Dion takes a slug of the weak coffee and grimaced To answer your question, my name is Dionysus Andreas. I was born on the hills of Pieria in 1894, not far from here actually. My father and mother passed away when I was only ten years old, so I started fur trapping and hunting in the hills where my parents lived. I joined this campaign because those Turks want me to pay a tax on the goods I sell in my own town. That, does not sit well with me at all. I am a hard working man, and do not need to pay any lazy "king" that is not even Greek! Feeling his anger starting to over come him, he takes another gulp of coffee and a deep breath. So how about you, whats your story? |
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| Reply by: Dionysus at May 19, '09 00:25 | |
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Telemachus smiled when he heard Dionysus introduce himself. "I guess I'm not the only one named after a piece of our hertiage. My name is Telemachus. I grew up on the coast myself - in a little town called Lachos with my mother. I never met my father." He paused for a moment and began to drink some of his coffee. "My town has no love for the Turks and alot of men have conscripted... only the women are left to tend to our empty homes." Telemachus smiled. "It's kind of a poetic thing - war - but anyways, are you nervous?" |
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| Reply by: Telemachus at May 19, '09 00:37 | |
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Nervous? No, I'm not nervous. I'm afraid like any man should be. My life could end tomorrow in muzzle flashes and a hail of bullets. Any man that is not afraid doesn't care for himself much in my mind. It all depends on how you channel that fear. You can either run for the hills, abandoning your country. Or, you can stand tall and be at peace with whatever happens. I do not wish to die, but I am at peace with the idea. Setting his mug down, he cracks his knuckles and massages his neck. You seem to be of the same mind set. I've seen many men around here shriveled up begging not to be sent in. These are the ones that worry me. We are only as strong as our weakest link. Will these men hold through to the inevitable end, whatever it may be? |
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| Reply by: Dionysus at May 19, '09 00:47 | |
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| Telemachus finished the rest of his coffee, the two comrades continued to talk of their indiviual past, and reflected on their mutual present and the battle to be waged tomorrow. The sun began to slowly rise over the valleys, drying the cool damp ground. Assembly was brilliantly sounded and the troops marched forth into lines. Surprisingly enough Telemachus and Dionysus were nearby in formation. They each exchanged a smile, Tele beat his chest with a closed fist, saluting his comrade. It was proud moment, one that would be sandwiched between blood and guts. | |
| Reply by: Telemachus at May 20, '09 17:34 | |
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