“Hey, EoJ!”

Enemy of Jupitor folded his wings and spun about to see who had disturbed his admiring of the sunrise over the clouds of Total War Heaven. The light was dim but growing stronger, and it had been a really long time since he had seen a sunrise- usually he awakened long after the sun had risen. Now a brash and very loud angel disturbs the one time he really wanted to see the golden orb climb above the clouds.

Damn it.

He recognized the angel. It was a mischievous angel, the one who occasionally spoke in funny words and used strange language. “Hello, Terikel. Why do you disturb me on this otherwise peaceful morning?”

That was EoJ, always pleasant no matter how angry he was about the miscreant absolutely ruining the first serene moment he had had in ages. He wanted to snark the angel’s face off by ranting “Why the hell are you disturbing me now of all possible moments? Could you not wait five frikking minutes?!?”, but instead answered politely in the words above.

“Yak and Gaius are crashed out in the Basilica, asleep,” answered the angel with a surprisingly devilish grin plastered across his craggy face. “Too much ambrosia. Again.”

EoJ could hear the squeaky gears churning in the Old One’s mind. He was up to some mischief. He just knew it. And like always, he wanted in on the action.

“And?”

“And the Banhammer is just laying their between them,” he said with a malicious grin. ”all by its lonesome. That is not a good thing- it serves no justice when it is laying still. Such a thing of power, it must be used, its power felt, lest the mortals grow bold in its absence. It should not be relegated to stand as a trophy. So we must right this wrong. Let’s grab it and go play!”

“We could get in trouble,” EoJ answered timidly. The Banhammer was not a thing you used playfully. It was a powerful tool, able to dispel mortals and angels alike. It was not a toy. And it belonged to the Seraphs.

“It is not like they would notice its absence,” the angel continued. ”Heck, I don’t even recall the last time they used it. And we need some excitement. This place is way too boring. Let us go have some fun.”

Swinging the Banhammer was fun, EoJ admitted to himself. A lot of fun. It could turn an ugly bug into an interesting Rorschach’s drawing faster and more effectively than any artist’s pen. His face lit up like the sun. He had huge wings because he was a Seraph elsewhere, but in our little heaven, he was considered a cherub, and thus his wings were artificially diminished to the size of normal angel wings here. The chance to seize the mighty Banhammer from unsuspecting Seraphs here was too great.

“I’m in,” he said with a cackling laugh.

The two naughty angels snuck into the Divine Palace and surveyed their prey. Gaius was asleep on the throne, and Yak on the couch. And between them, on the floor, lay the Mighty Banhammer and many broken flasks of ambrosia. The Seraphs had been misusing the Mighty Banhammer to open their bottles. What a shame. Terikel flexed his wings and flew across the room, snatching it up while EoJ opened the door on the far end to allow egress. They met up on the lawn before the palace to survey their prize.

“Let me have it,” EoJ demanded greedily. “There is a guy over in the Tavern that needs a whack or two.”

“Okay, you take care of him, then I want to use it on a creep playing troll in my backyard. Then it will be your turn again.”

The two laughed and began their rampage. The Heaven would never be the same again.

“Look! A fool asking us for a no-CD crack!” cried Terikel. Whack!

“One trying to bait another into a CoC violation!” Smack!

“Here’s a fool try to pander pornography to our denizens!” Terikel swung the hammer and another forummer disappeared into oblivion. Thump!

“And there’s another, peddling shoes!” shrieked EoJ. Boom! Poof!

“This peon is advertising for beachfront property- in Kansas!” laughed Terikel. Whackity-whack. “Now he isn’t.”

“And another CoC violation!” cried EoJ in full glee. “Flaming! Not any more...” Smash!

Terikel took the hammer now, it being again his turn. He had his weathered eye on a certain miscreant below. He was posting some gibberish with links to nude women. He raised the hammer for a mighty blow- when suddenly the hammer was snatched from his hands. He whipped about, and saw two very angry Seraphs flanking a third. All of them were staring at the two minor angels with fire in their eyes.

“Oops,” whispered the angel.

“Oops,” echoed EoJ.

“You two...” Gaius Colinius said. Anger and disappointment vied for primacy in his voice.

“You forgot I am a Seraph, too,” said HussarKnight. “And one too young to drink. So I noticed you two up to no good as I was awake at first light. Stealing the Banhammer.... Very bad.”

“We’re sorry,” the two naughty angels said in chorus. It actually looked like they meant it, with their downcast glances and pouty lips, but appearances could be deceiving. The joy they had from smacking evil-doers was still glowing upon their faces.

“Not good enough,” replied Yakcamkir, the mightiest and oldest of the Seraphs. “For this, you two shall pay.”

“Yes,” replied Gaius. “You two must work off your excess energy in a positive way.”

“”Work,” mumbled Yak. “I need some of that, too.”

“You go find yourself a job,” replied Gaius. “And I’ll give these two a task that will keep them busy for ages. That’ll teach them.”

“Good idea,” echoed HussarKnight. “Idle minds, idle hands- the Devil’s toys.”

“Shit, he’s quoting again,” whispered Terikel to EoJ, who nodded in agreement. They were in for it now.

“Look about,” EoJ pleaded. “The Heavens are in order. Articles and other scribblings are rolling in, and the mortals are all well-behaved. Except for these few, which we were eradicating.”

“This is true,” Yak said lowly. “But there is still much to do.”

“Like what?” moaned Terikel.

“Like the Awards Presentation,” hissed Gaius. “Ye think we have forgotten, eh? We forget nothing. You two- do the awards. Let the mortals celebrate their glory- while you two do the work.”

“Yes, Seraph,” the two groaned.

“And Boys... It had better be something really special if you want to keep those wings of yours.”

The Seraphs disappeared.

“What now?” EoJ asked. This was not his day. His beautiful sunrise was gone, and now he had tasks upon tasks to perform. The only good part of the newborn day was banishing those fools with the Banhammer.

“Well, I have a canoe,” Terikel said with a shrug.

“So?”

“So the River of Time is right over there. We just jump into the canoe and paddle on down to see what happened this past twelve moons. Simple.”

EoJ groaned, but had no better idea.

“Get your canoe,” he commanded. “But Terikel- bring paddles.”

“I shall,” the barbarian replied. “I too know the tale of two angels up a creek with no paddles.”

And so they were off, two mischievous angels in a canoe floating down the River of Time.

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Here ends the Opening scene. The tale continues here, in Rome:Total War Discussion.

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The tale that began a while back in the Opening Post, then went to the Roman Awards through Medieval to this one, resumes here.

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Meanwhile, back in the Basilica, Gaius and Yak were running out of ambrosia.

“Time to get to the Tavern and restock,” Yak said. He held up an empty flask as evidence.

Gaius nodded, and put on his cloak. A shake of Hussar’s head told the other two that he was not going with them- he was studying for his Halo exams. The others wished him well and headed out the door.

The Tavern was just ahead, a boisterous place, but one where everybody knew your name, especially if it was a screen-name that had not changed recently. The two seraphs slid into the roiling mass and found a table. A slinky minx of a waitress brought them a flask and some crisps. Gaius nibbled on one and pulled out a glass ball with his left hand, while Yak was checking his Facebook and Hyves site.

“The drinks are paid for,” smiled the waitress. “And so am I.”

Gaius raised an eyebrow. “By who?”

The waitress pointed to TheKid and Awesomated, now back from Rome. “Those two nice fellows over there.”

The two Seraphs thanked the men, who were indeed the Nicest People in the Tavern, then turned back to their crystal balls and Facebooks, respectively.

“Let’s see,” Gaius said. He gazed deeply into the crystal ball. “What are our two imps up to now?”

Yak glanced over and giggled when he saw the scene in the crystal ball. EoJ was walking over a battlefield bloodied and battered from battle, while the Viking angel was scribbling names into his tablet. He grunted. “They are doing what they are supposed to do, for once. Kicking ass and taking names.”

Gaius looked back into the ball. What his colleague said was true. Despite all the flutter and foolishness, the two had beaten the enemy and taken many names. They were actually doing real angel work! Amazing!

“They’ll never be as good as old you, Gaius. You really are the best Oldie in the tavern,” Yak mumbled. Then he giggled and showed his Facebook Wall to Gaius. “But these new kids GeneralKickAss and Generalscruff have the potential.”

“We need to check on the rest of our boys, Yak,” Gaius grumbled. “You know, like do our jobs?”

“Relax, fellow Seraph. We have Tryhard here. He works the hardest for our bit of heaven, and can even be in two places at once. He can fill in while we take a well-deserved break. And Hussar is back at HQ, working his little butt off. We can enjoy this time off.”

“I really miss having SubRosa around,” said Gaius. “This place is like an empty barrel without her- looks impressive, but is missing a most important part.”

“I like that canoe thing they have going,” Yak said with a bit of pride, gazing into the ball. “A magic canoe. Ingenious. Too bad they did not think to make it self-propelled. I could have designed a wonderful wind-fan and aerodynamic frame for them. Much faster, more efficient.”

“They are impudent angels,” Gaius scoffed. “Not like Pitt, our resident Leonardo da Vinci.”

“True, those clowns are more like Jax- court jesters. Good for laughs, but real work? Ha ha.”

“You know, if these two really pull this off,” Gaius interrupted, ”we are going to have to reward them. And not just a little bit.”

Yak nodded soberly. “That is a mighty big if. I think that Jax– our local Court Jester and Crazy One- might do a better job than these two are doing... Nah, been there, done that. But yes, if these two imps do indeed succeed, we would need to reward them.”

“Something big,” added Gaius. The last of the drinks from the nice Kid and Awesomated was empty. A shame; they would have to pay for their own drinks from now on. The waitress removed the empty glasses and continued on her route.

“Huge,” echoed Yak. His eyes wandered to the next table, where Generalscruff was asleep in his chair, with his arms cradling his head.

“Let us contemplate this,” Gaius said, his brow furrowing as the thoughts raced in his head.

Yak lifted the bottle he surreptitiously removed from the sleeping Generalscruff. “Thanks to our Drunken Uncle here, I have the contemplation syrup ready.”

Gaius looked over at Yak, then the bottle. A smile formed. “ Yes, contemplation is good for the soul. Wench! Where are our glasses! We must contemplate!”

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“We thirst,” said Terikel. One could see form the sagging of his wings that he was indeed a bit worn out after the mess in the Medieval Morass.

EoJ nodded. “We too,” agreed the Chatty One.

“I know of a pub nearby,” Swamprat said. “But the dress code is rather severe. I doubt those two,” gesturing to the Roman-era angels, “would be allowed in.”

“We need to get them decked out in some fine threads,” EoJ agreed. “Furs and buckskin breeks are definitely out of fashion around here.”

“Tryhard has a place nearby,” Swampy agreed. “He’s the best thread-maker there is, which is why we call him Armani. He can fix them up.”

“And their manners? They are at least a thousand years out of date.”

Swampy thought that one over. “Mythic Commodore is over at Cicero’s house. Between them and Hasdrubal the Handsome, they can teach anybody.”

“Who?”

“Sorry, nicknames again. Old habits die hard. Mythic is over at the home of canceithirfhicheadisaochd- our best orator. Jax is there too, you know, the sexiest one? He can give them tips on charm and grace, so they can fit right in.”

“Canceithirfhicheadisaochd,” muttered EoJ. “Canceithirfhicheadisaochd. I see again the wisdom of why you use nicknames so often, Swampy.”

Thus was it decided, and thus was it executed. Within two days the two barbarians from the Roman era would be disguised and trained to be perfect Medieval gentleman- though whether they would follow that training was another story. The use of Angel Magic made that two-day transformation take a little over fifteen minutes.

“Now to the Tavern,” said EoJ with a happy grin.

“To the Tavern!” echoed the Roman-era angels. “We thirst!”

Swampy shook his head and rubbed his nose. This was going to be a long trip, Angel Magic or not...

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The Red Lion Tavern was glowing from the inside out. That stopped the party from entering.

“What is that glow?” asked Edorix in awe. “I have never seen the like.”

“That is the divine glow of a seraph,” responded EoJ, who had that very glow in his own realm, though not here. “It looks like Yak and Gaius ran out of ambrosia again.”

“Do ye think they are deep within their cups?” asked Terikel. “If so, we may enter, drink our fill, and depart ere they notice.”

A passerby tried to nudge the four aside so that he may enter the pub. He had overheard the whispered discussion. “Say fellows, would you like me to look the place over for you?” he offered.

“We are not here to rob the place or its denizens, or to blow them up,” Terikel muttered, spying a rucksack on the skinny, brown man and instantly suspicious. “But we are trying to avoid two seraphs in particular.”

“Yak and Gaius?” asked the new guy. “Sure, they are inside. I’ll have a quick look-see to see if you can sneak in unseen. Back in a flash, gentlemen.”

He was. “Right,” he said. “Those two are indeed inside, but quite smashed. If you stick to the right hand wall to the dark corner, you should be able to make it in and to the open table without them noticing.”

The four thanked the man, then did as said. Verily, they made it to the open table and sat down unseen by any except the waitress, who brought over four steins of rich, cold beer.

“I underrated that guy,” Swampy said with after a sip of his beer. “I had thought him all talk, but what he said was true. A real Claudius that guy was.”

“Yes, Legion of Hell does tend to have that trait,” Edorix agreed. “He was planning to go to Halloween as himself. The amount of looks he gets on the train when opening his bag constitutes for that.”

Terikel giggled, while EoJ laughed out loud. “That’s a fine quote, worthy of Prince What’s-his-face himself.”

“Prince Philip,” the cherub replied.

“Yes, that bloke.”

The waiter stopped by to take their orders. EoJ ordered a fine champagne from the vineyards of a refined noble house, while Edorix was content with a beaker of a simple red wine from northern Gaul. Terikel, of course, asked for a cask of Norwegian honey mead with which to slake his thirst, and Swamprat, not to be outdone and finally able to lift a glass after his long imprisonment in a rodent’s body, asked for two bottles of chardonnay. The waiter wrote furiously, then repeated the order.

EoJ took the tablet from the waiter and read what was written.

“Shampain do Molluk, redd North gawl wyn, cask of Norweechen meed (hunny), two boddles shardnay,” he laughed. Then he sighed, and handed over a small trophy. “Here you go, lad. You earned this more than I have.”

Liamidas took the small trophy and read its inscription. “The Ser Woof Onerry Trofy. Gee, thanks, dude.”

“And your name, for posterity?”

“I am Liam the Spartan, but they call me Liamidas,” said the waiter. “They say it is a great name.”

“That is a great nickname,” Swampy agreed. “The best I’ve heard this year.”

“And he would know,” Edorix agreed with a solemn nod.

The waiter turned to EoJ. “I know you, sir. Please don’t hit me with your banhammer, but can I have your autograph? I am a fan, sir, of the man who won this ‘trofy’ more times than I ever will.”

EoJ grumbled a bit, but took the tablet. He saw someone had scribbled something before him, but added his own autograph anyway. “There you go, kid.”

“Wow!” said Liamidas. “Now I have two of the best signatures in my book- EoJ’s and GeneralKickAss. Great!” He disappeared to fetch the requested drinks.

While they waited, they perused the Daily Bugle. It seems old Gaius had won the Best Gravatar award, again, but that was not news. The duo of Jax and von Nelson were touring the lands as a Guild, winning applause and adoration wherever they went. Jax was obviously the star of the troupe- having earned three titles already this year. Court Jester, Joan of Arc, and Hasdrubal. Von Nelson, his sidekick, was less endowed with titles, but was content (for the most part) to have earned nominations in every category. He was patient- maybe next year would see his name returned by the voters? Who knows?

“The Bugle spews the usual crap again,” said Terikel after his brief skimming of the news. “It bores me, though the story about Jax and von Nelson was good. Are there any other rags worth reading here?”

Liamidas came back, burdened under the weight of the beverages. He placed the cask by the Viking, the chardonnay by Swampy, the red wine by Edorix, and the champagne by EoJ. He then threw a handful of scrolls onto the table.

“Here ye go, gents,” he said. “Your drinks, and some entertainment, as requested. Just please don’t use it to wipe your butt off like the last Viking did. Some people actually read this stuff.”

Terikel grinned broadly. “That depends on the quality of the scribblings, young lord. Now off with ye, Gaius and Yak are waking up, and we wish not to attract their attention.”

Liamidas moved off, while EoJ and the Viking grabbed the scrolls.

“Hmmm,” murmured EoJ as he settled back for a good read. “What If dates that could change the world. Acclaimed as the best History scroll this year. This ought to be interesting.”

“Mine is about the Battle of Ilipa,” said the Viking. “By General Egil Skallagrimson KickAss. Well, lets see if the name delivers...”

Edorix gasped as he opened his scroll, then grinned. “Mine has pictures. The Sun Always Rises in the East, by Aftermath Snurri Somebody.”

“Snorri Sturlason?” Terikel asked. “With pictures? Wanna trade?”

“No,” replied the impish cherub.

“That is okay,” the Viking replied. “You need the pictures anyway, to understand the words better. My choice, this battle, needs no pictures. And you Swampy, what scribblings did you get?”

Swampy held up an impossibly large scroll. “The Holy Roman Party Scroll, best scroll of the year, according to the Tavern Times.”

The others nodded gravely. Swampy had indeed found a good choice.

A cask and several bottle later, their thirst was slaked and the group was ready to move on. They could not, however, as the two Seraphs were still at their table and were waking. They had missed their chance.

“Why couldn’t you have ordered a bottle like the rest of us, fool?” EoJ hissed at Terikel. “We waited almost two hours for you to finish off that cask. A cask, by the gods!”

“You were involved in your reading,” Terikel replied hurtfully. “And I had a major thirst!”

“After that business in the morass, I cannot blame him either,” said Edorix.

“Nor I,” added Swampy.

“Nor I,” admitted EoJ. “We are still trapped, though.”

“Ask that Legion of Hell guy for a tip,” Edorix said suddenly.

“We don’t need underrated right now, we need brains,” said EoJ. He grabbed the Bugle. “Let’s see, who has the Tavern decided was our Wise Old Monk this year?” He skimmed through the listings, and then stopped with a groan.

“Well?” asked the others.

“There were two who share the title,” EoJ said with a pout. “One of them is Gaius over there. We sure as heck cannot ask him.”

“And the other?”

“The other got us into this mess by downing a cask of honeyed mead.”

All eyes turned to Terikel.

“I was thirsty!” he insisted indignantly.

“Well, now that your thirst is slaked, get us out of here. And no magic! Gaius and Yak would be onto us in no time.”

Liamidas came over to take the orders for the second round. Terikel tapped him to get his attention, then asked if there were any other Vikings about. Preferably the Berserker kind. Liamidas nodded over to where Jax and Tryhard were standing at the bar.

“Put this cask by the far wall,” the angel said. “Then tell those two the first one to it can have it refilled.” He gave a few coins to pay for the cask and its replacement.

Liamidas did as instructed, then went over to Jax and Tryhard. He whispered a few words, but did not get to finish before the two were tearing through the bar towards the cask. All eyes turned to watch the sudden surprise spectacle. Tryhard tripped up Jax, who sprang up to tackle the Frenchman before falling across another table. Tryhard leapt onto the tables and began running across them, while Jax swung through the chandeliers toward the cask. His hand reached the little barrel at the same time as Tryhard’s. A tie, which meant they would share. The patrons cheered the two, then turned back to what they were doing before the ruckus.

Outside, the little group breathed easy. All eyes- including the eyes of the Seraphs, had turned to watch the unusual race, giving the interlopers easy and unseen access to the outer door. Thus their exit was successful.

“I see you did indeed earn the title of Wise Old Monk,” EoJ admitted. “Now it is time to get back into your magical canoe so we can finish our task and maybe, just maybe, keep our wings. Let’s roll.”


Back at the river, Edorix and EoJ stepped into the canoe, while Terikel held a hand out to help Swampy in before shoving off. But the SwampRat shook his head and stepped away.

“I cannot,” he said solemnly.

“I won’t rock the boat, and EoJ spends his time chatting and reading,” Terikel informed him. “We shall not harm you. Besides, you are human now. You can swim.”

SwampRat smiled. “I could swim before, too, you misplaced Viking. It’s just that with Yak and Gaius drunk in the Tavern, and EoJ off with you on this quest and Afty off downriver, there is nobody left to mind the Morass. So I shall stay, and with the newfound powers given to me, I shall defend the realm for our own.”

Terikel nodded, uncommonly thoughtfully at this sense of responsibility. “You are a good man, SwampRat. A damned good man.” He handed him a small horn. “This calls the gods. Use it wisely, and only if needed.”

The new cherub thanked the old angel, and helped shove the canoe off. A few minutes later a very wet Terikel flew into the boat, and the journey down the River of Time continued.

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The tale shall continue in this scroll.

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The tale that continued in this scroll resumes here.

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The River was picking up speed as the magical canoe and its heavenly passengers sailed from the land of gunpowder and cannon. Like most rivers, this one was governed by certain physical laws. It had a volume of water, and a path. Where the path was wide and deep, the volume of water could pass slowly through it. Where the path was narrow and deep, it ran quickly through it. And in places like this, wide and shallow, it ran rather quickly over a broad area- rocks and other obstacles be damned.

“Get us to the side!” EoJ screamed. “The waters are too turbulent here!”

“I agree,” cried Edorix. “To travel further here is madness!”

“What in the bloody name of One-Eyed Odin do you think I am trying to do?” bellowed the Viking angel in reply. “You could help, you know.”

The magical canoe bobbed and weaved among the rocks, narrowly missing a few, careening catastrophically off of others, and throwing all and one about like ragdolls in a water mill.

“Are you deliberately trying to hit every rock?” EoJ cried after another fantastic crash.

Terikel smiled broadly. “No, are you?”

“Bloody hell no,” screamed the medieval angel.

“You are in the back, which means you are driving,” Terikel pointed out. “Try using your paddle to steer.”

EoJ dipped his paddle into the water and held it out at an angle. The canoe turned slightly. He reversed his angle, and the canoe plowed back into the river. “Oh,” he said gently.

Their trip began to get a bit better. EoJ managed to avoid the rocks now. It looked like they were just about out of the whitewater too- and still in one piece. Soaked and battered, but whole. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Then his paddle snapped.

“Terikel! Give me your paddle! Quick!”

The angel threw his paddle. EoJ caught it deftly and plunged it into the churning waters. The canoe slewed sideways, then narrowly missed a large boulder. But the paddle did not miss it. It snapped in two.

But it did not matter. The river was broad and deep here, moving slower with more depth to house its massive volume. The angels sank back wearily after the hours-long battle against the forces of nature, and enjoyed the wonderful view of the lands below- lands of the future, where metal birds flew and machines the size of barns roamed. Their towers of metal and glass rose high into the sky, reflecting the setting sun so majestically...

Below?

“Waterfall!” screamed EoJ. “The Falls of Enlightenment, which separate the Ages! Quick, get us to the side.”

“You broke both of our paddles,” Terikel reminded him.

“You brought only two?” EoJ shrieked as the noise of the falls began drowning him out. “And two shitty ones at that?”

“They were meant for paddling, not smashing rocks!” Terikel roared in reply.

“Two angels, up a creek without a paddle,” Edorix moaned. “I’ve heard this one!”

And then they heard the great roar, as the canoe reached the falls, perched perilously on the edge for one incredibly long moment of indecision, and then plummeted over its edge to drop its contents toward the jagged, hard rocks three hundred feet below, or to be drowned in the water meters deep beside them.

Doom approached...

“Wings!” cried Edorix.

He flapped his. They were small, but effective. He grabbed the two terrified angels by their feet and pulled, flapping mightily. The two got the message and spread their own. The canoe crashed and splintered below, but out of the roaring cauldron of mist and water flew three very wet but rather graceful angels, soaring on high to return now to their abode in the sky....

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The clouds above were deliciously cool after the turmoil of the lands below. The three angels winged over to where the mighty Basilica stood. It was a graceful, elegant building made of vapor and polished daily by wind and sun to the brightest white. The three set themselves gently down before the great hall. There EoJ and Terikel took to kneeling, and after a moment, so did Edorix.

Before them, the great Pearly Doors opened. A fluttering crescendo emerged from within, and the sky was filled with hundreds of white doves.

Edorix gasped in awe. “For us?” he asked in wonder.

EoJ smirked but shook his head. “Probably an experiment gone wrong,” he suggested.

“Or Yak left his window open again,” Terikel added.

That broke the bubble of mystery, and the illusion of grandeur. Edorix saw now what the others saw- a rather drab old building, slapped together with love from old siding, but one which gave a warm and cozy feeling. The fluffy snow upon which he thought he had knelt was revealed as common grass, at least as far as this grass could be common, and the heavenly decor was abruptly replaced with scenery with which he was more familiar.

After the birds (and a few bats) were chased out, the three Seraphs emerged. HussarKnight stood the proudest among them, but he was able to do so. The other two tried to imitate him, but the hangovers they both shared prevented them from truly enjoying the moment. Gaius was a bit green around the gills, while Yak was absolutely pasty white.

EoJ took pity upon his superiors. He brought forth the Wand of Imhotep, as fashioned by Mythic, and this time removed the cap from the end. “Hocus cadabra.”

A white foam shot forth from the wand, washing the mighty Seraphs in bubbles, before magically dissipating. In their passing, the bubbles took the hangovers with them, and in their wake, they left three healthy and fit Seraphs.

Gaius looked to EoJ. “Mythic’s wand?”

EoJ nodded.

Yak, being refreshed, stood now proudly upright. He held forth a mighty, six-fingered hand and commanded in a powerful voice, “Present us now thy presentation!”

Terikel laughed, as did EoJ. Edorix, new to these inside jokes, looked confused until the Chatty One replied to Yak, “You have been spying on us!”

Yak flushed red, while Gaius grimaced. He smacked his fellow Seraph playfully. “I told you! Everytime you spy on Terikel, you take up his weird speech. Now they know.”

“And now knoweth ye,” said the Viking angel, ”that we have indeed gone forth through the Heavens, and have witnessed deeds both mighty and inspiring, and have brought forth this adventure list of names for thy perusal. And as thou does knoweth them already, having spied upon us, we need not etch them into wax and hand them over.”

Gaius smacked Yak again. “I told you they would use that defense to get out of writing,” he said.

Yak smiled brightly, despite the playful slaps. “Does it really matter? We have gotten what we asked for- a presentation. And a good one at that.”

“That is true,” Gaius admitted. He looked to the newest angel, the cherub Edorix. “You do realize that these clowns would never have succeeded without your aid?”

Edorix nodded solemnly.

“Good,” said Gaius. “You will make a fine addition to this motley crew.” He fished out a mask from his robes, and handed it to the stunned cherub. “For you, the face of Wenceslas. It is given only to the favorite of us. I donned this for the last few iterations. Now, for your efforts since gaining those little wings, I present it to you, the Good King Wenceslas Award. Do it proud, son.”

Edorix grinned. “I shall.”

Gaius turned to Yak. “And now we must do as we promised when we awoke in the Tavern.”

“Run across the tabletops as did Tryhard? Or did you mean swing through the chandeliers as did Jax?”

Gaius shook his head. From his heavenly robes he took a small set of pilots wings. He leaned forward to Terikel, and pinned them upon him. The wings upon the angels back grew rapidly and strongly until they were as large as those on the back of Yakcamcir and HussarKnights. Conversely, those of Gaius shrank to the previous size of Terikel’s.

Yak nodded. He too removed a brooch from his robes and approached Enemy of Jupitor. “Here, EoJ, for you.”

EoJ’s wings underwent the same transformation as did the Viking, as he and the Viking exchanged confused glances.

“We promised ourselves a reward for you two, should you pull off this seemingly impossible task,” Gaius informed the two new Seraphs. “This is it. I traded wings with Terikel, while Yak would trade wings with you, EoJ.”

“But as I do not wish cherub wings,” Yak informed the two awe-struck Seraphs, “I will return to the lands below as a mortal, and resume my career.”

“A professional student?” asked EoJ impudently.

“No, actually,” Yak said proudly. “I have been hired by an aeronautic firm. A real job! I design wings.”

EoJ and Terikel applauded. Both said in unison, “None know wings better than you, Yak.”

Hussar stepped forward and held out a hammer. Both new Seraphs remember that hammer rather well, and shied a bit away from it.

“You two are Seraphs now,” Hussar said proudly. “You may freely touch this without punishment. But be advised- use it wisely, or its bane may bounce back upon you.”

Both seraphs, having experienced the backlash of misuse so recently, nodded solemnly.

“We promise to wield this wisely,” they promised.

Hussar stepped back proudly, and offered to help Gaius bring Yak back down to Mortal Lands. With the seniors gone, EoJ and Terikel glanced around at their new realm, and spread their new wings, and grinned to each other.

Terikel lifted the Banhammer with a broadening smile.

EoJ matched that grin. Many memories flooded his mind, then cleared to leave only the ones concerning that morning sunrise and their rude interruption. “So, Terikel,” he said cruelly, “Where were we before we were so rudely interrupted by those ex-Seraphs?”

Edorix shook his head in amazement at the two morons with the huge wings. They’ll never change, he thought grimly. Then, when the first Rorschachs of a flattened offender painted the sky red, he grinned at its cruel beauty.

“Can I play, too?” he asked hopefully.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

For those of ye who be wondering what the Old One was scribbling every time the party was halted and no mead was present, here be his runes:

Community Awards:
TWH Imhotep Award (Best Modder)- Mythic Commodore
TWH Augustine Monk Award (Most Helpful TWH Forumer - tech help/mod forum)- Mythic Commodore
TWH Good King Wenceslas Award (Favorite Moderator)- Edorix Wirocu
TWH Best History Thread (TWH History only)- What If: Dates that could changed the world forever- Imperator Romano
TWH Egil Skallagrimson Award (Best War Story)- Battle of Ilipia by GeneralKickAss
TWH Snorri Sturlusson Award (Best AAR)- The Sun always Rises in the East- Aftermath


Red Lion Tavern Awards
RLT Sainthood Award (Nicest Forumer) – TheKid, Awesomated88
RLT Leonardo DaVinci Award (Most Intelligent Forumer)- Pitt
RLT Court Jester Award (Funniest Forumer)- Jax
RLT Joan of Arc Award (Craziest Forumer)- Jax
RLT Wise Old Monk Award (Most Mature Forumer)- Gaius Colinius, Terikel Grayhair
RLT Alexander Award (Best Newbie )- Generals KickAss and Scruff
RLT Methuselah Award (Best Oldie )- Gaius Colinius
RLT Claudius Award (Most Underrated Forumer )- Legion of Hell
RLT Cicero Award (Best Debater/Orator)- canceithirfhicheadisaochd
RLT Drunken Uncle Award (Life & Soul of the Holy Roman Party Thread)- Generalscruff
RLT Empty Barrel Award (Most missed RLT Forumer)- SubRosa
RLT Hasdrubal the Handsome Award (Sexiest Forumer)- Jax
RLT Cato the Elder Award (Most Predictable RLT Forumer)- Terikel Grayhair
RLT Tryhard Award (Non-staff forumer who works hardest for the good of RLT)- Tryhard
RLT Viking Berserker Award (Most Unpredictable RLT Forumer)- Jax, Tryhard
RLT Longshanks Award (Favourite Forumer Nickname)- Liamidas
RLT Guild Award (Best Duo/Trio)- Jax & von Nelson
RLT Prince Philip Award (Best Quote)-
" I will just go as myself for Halloween. The amount of looks I get on the train when opening my bag constitutes for that" Legion of Hell
RLT Armani Award (Best Thread Maker)- Tryhard
RLT Best Speller Award (grammar included)- Terikel Grayhair
RLT Ser Woof Onerry Trofy (Worst Speller Award, grammar included)- Liam the Spartan
RLT Best Thread- Holy Roman Party
RLT Best Signature Award- GeneralKickAss, EnemyofJupitor
RLT Best Gravatar Award- Gaius Colinius


Roman Awards
RTWH Drusus Award (Nicest Forumer)- Awesomated88
RTWH Aristotle Award (Most Intelligent Forumer)- Pitt
RTWH Pharoah’s Ambassador Award (Funniest Forumer)- GeneralKickAss
RTWH Caligula Award (Craziest Forumer)- Liam the Spartan, VampiricCanniba
RTWH Senator Award (Most Mature Forumer)- Shieldwall, Gaius Colinius, Terikel Grayhair
RTWH Octavian Award (Best Newbie )- GeneralKickAss
RTWH Gaius Marius Award (Best Oldie )- Terikel Grayhair
RTWH Militia Hoplite Award (Most Underrated Forumer )- Punic Hoplite
RTWH Advocate Award (Non-staff forumer who works hardest for the good of RTWH)- GeneralKickAss
RTWH Lucius Cornelius Sulla Award (Most Improved Forumer)- Liam the Spartan
RTWH Cornelia of the Gracchi Award (Most missed RTWH Forumer)- SubRosa
RTWH Tribune of the Plebs Award (Most Helpful RTWH Forumer - gameplay)- Punic Hoplite, J Ursus Cato
RTWH Hannibal Barca Award (Best RTW Online Player)- Punic Hoplite
RTWH Evocatus Award (Most Likely to be Promoted)- GeneralKickAss
RTWH Victoria Award (Best RTWH Gameplay Article)- Architect's Office by Terikel
RTWH Livy Award (Best RTWH History Article)- The Battle of Cannae by Scipii
RTWH Best Game Thread- How would you describe yourself
RTW Favorite Unit- British Head Hurlers, Gothic Cavalry, Hastati
RTW Favorite Faction- Britannia, Carthage
RTW Favorite Mod- Rome: Total Realism


Medieval Awards:
M2TWH Aelred Award (Nicest Forumer)- Terikel
M2TWH Thomas Aquinas Award (Most Intelligent Forumer)- Terikel
M2TWH Erasmus Award (Funniest Forumer)- Terikel
M2TWH Charles VI Award (Craziest Forumer)- Terikel
M2TWH Abelard Award (Most Mature Forumer)- Terikel
M2TWH Black Prince Award (Best Newbie )- Terikel
M2TWH Barbarossa Award (Best Oldie )- Terikel
M2TWH Galileo Award (Most Underrated Forumer )- Terikel
M2TWH Marsilio da Padova Award (Non-staff forumer who works hardest for the good of M2TWH)- Terikel
M2TWH Prince Hal Award (Most Improved Forumer)- Terikel
M2TWH King Arthur Award (Most missed TWH Forumer)- Terikel
M2TWH Knight Hospitaller Award (Most Helpful M2TWH Forumer - gameplay)- Terikel
M2TWH Saladin Award (Best M2TW Online Player)- Terikel
M2TWH Henry Bolingbroke Award (Most Likely to be Promoted)- Terikel
M2TWH Sir Robert Award (Best M2TWH Gameplay Article)- Terikel
M2TWH Froissart Award (Best M2TWH History Article)- Terikel
M2TWH Best Game Thread- Terikel
M2TW Favorite Unit- Terikel
M2TW Favorite Faction- Terikel
M2TW Favorite Mod- Terikel
M2TW Favorite Woodburning oven- Terikel
M2TW Most Popular Misplaced Viking- Terikel


Empire and Napoleon Awards
NETWH Bilderdijk Award (Nicest Forumer)- The Gentalmen
NETWH Hume Award (Most Intelligent Forumer)- Pitt
NETWH Voltaire Award (Funniest Forumer)- THEmanIShere
NETWH Ludwig II Award (Craziest Forumer)- GundamMerc
NETWH Kant Award (Most Mature Forumer)- Aftermath
NETWH Frederick the Great Award (Best Newbie )- webstral
NETWH Von Zieten Award (Best Oldie )- Primo
NETWH George Washington Award (Most Underrated Forumer )- tkwarrior
NETWH Arkwright Award (Non-staff forumer who works hardest for the good of N/ETWH)- Schwerpunkt
NETWH Continental Army Award (Most Improved Forumer)- Army Ranger
NETWH Marlborough Award (Most missed N/ETWH Forumer)- Sondre_Norge
NETWH Von Steuben Award (Most Helpful N/ETWH Forumer - gameplay)- Sublime_Porte
NETWH de Ruyter Award (Best ETWH/NTWH Online Player)- Daelon
NETWH Napoleon Award (Most Likely to be Promoted)- Terikel Grayhair, BastWorshipper
NETWH Gumby Award (Best ETWH/NTWH Gameplay Article)- Trade and Taxes Explained by readercolin
NETWH Gibbon Award (Best ETWH/NTWH History Article)- Republic of the Seven Provinces by Kor, The Battle of Lafelt by Kor
NETWH Best Game Thread- India is conquered… Where now by Primo
ETWH Favorite Unit- Line Infantry
ETWH Favorite Faction- Great Britain, Ottoman Empire, Spain, and United Provinces

NTWH Favorite Unit- Dutch Grenadiers, 12 lb Foot Artillery
NTWH Favorite Faction- Hesse-Kassel, Great Britain

[This message has been edited by Terikel Grayhair (edited 01-07-2011 @ 10:07 AM).]