All bouncy step and enthusiasm, walking backwards and guiding himself with the air, Larrikin went into the lobby. "Well, I remember this one time, right, so Anton and me were meant to meet the rest of the unit someplace and we're following their marks and then my darling intelligent idiot of a husband of mine left a written note. A note."
Larrikin threw up his hands all full of indignant and laughing exasperation. "It didn't occur to him that, oh, me'n'Anton both being men of the world and not nobles, neither of us knew how to read. So we went along to the original rendezvous point and it was a good thing we did, y'see, because old Mevvy-poo had managed a feint. The whole army had gone off someplace else and left a force of fifty guarding a route into Italy, and of course that's where Mevolent hit with his two hundred strong. Well, not him him, but bastard-ass Serpine--" He blew a raspberry, rubbing his chest. "--was in charge--scuse me!"
He chirruped the apology at someone he nearly tripped over. Anton wasn't nearby, so it was clear and free as far as Larrikin was concerned to produce a few pins and kneel by the office door.
"So there were our guys being utterly routed and in retreat through a valley," Larrikin went on, "when we show up. We split our forces and let Serpine's minions come at us, and then our line pulled back and Anton stepped forward, and--" Larrikin started to laugh. "--the front line flinched just shouting, 'SHUDDER! IT'S SHUDDER, WE'RE GOING TO DIE, FALL BACK YOU BLOODY INGRATES!' But the guys behind them didn't get the memo, so they're all tripping over each other and running into each other's swords, and before the rear can catch up to the change the rest of our guys pelted 'em from the ridges above, and the next thing, it was Serpine in a rout and not us."
He sighed as the lock clicked, and straightened to open the door with a flourish. "That was a good day," he said wistfully. "Anton didn't even need to use the gist, he just needed to be there to break their inflated morale. Against two hundred and we only lost about fifteen. I mean, sure, Hopeless taught us to read after that, but we were lucky. Lucky days like that are always good days."
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Larrikin threw up his hands all full of indignant and laughing exasperation. "It didn't occur to him that, oh, me'n'Anton both being men of the world and not nobles, neither of us knew how to read. So we went along to the original rendezvous point and it was a good thing we did, y'see, because old Mevvy-poo had managed a feint. The whole army had gone off someplace else and left a force of fifty guarding a route into Italy, and of course that's where Mevolent hit with his two hundred strong. Well, not him him, but bastard-ass Serpine--" He blew a raspberry, rubbing his chest. "--was in charge--scuse me!"
He chirruped the apology at someone he nearly tripped over. Anton wasn't nearby, so it was clear and free as far as Larrikin was concerned to produce a few pins and kneel by the office door.
"So there were our guys being utterly routed and in retreat through a valley," Larrikin went on, "when we show up. We split our forces and let Serpine's minions come at us, and then our line pulled back and Anton stepped forward, and--" Larrikin started to laugh. "--the front line flinched just shouting, 'SHUDDER! IT'S SHUDDER, WE'RE GOING TO DIE, FALL BACK YOU BLOODY INGRATES!' But the guys behind them didn't get the memo, so they're all tripping over each other and running into each other's swords, and before the rear can catch up to the change the rest of our guys pelted 'em from the ridges above, and the next thing, it was Serpine in a rout and not us."
He sighed as the lock clicked, and straightened to open the door with a flourish. "That was a good day," he said wistfully. "Anton didn't even need to use the gist, he just needed to be there to break their inflated morale. Against two hundred and we only lost about fifteen. I mean, sure, Hopeless taught us to read after that, but we were lucky. Lucky days like that are always good days."