SOS Discipline - Daily Proverb and Red Letter Reader
Charity is understanding. cf Pr. 28:9
Your heart knows what you worship. cf Mt. 6:21
Disengagement in the seizure of time. cf Sun Tzu 3:21
From Today’s Stack
By the time he was licking his lips, one of Gaoltea’s Rangers stood at the tent flap.
Like Assassins, Rangers wore custom body-leather. But where Assassin leathers were pitch black and covered in countless pockets of every imaginable shape and size, the Rangers wore a boiled and weighty patchwork of brown, gray and green. With far fewer pockets, and strong shoulder pauldrons attached to a sweeping, forest-colored cloak, the gear’s design was long distance reconnaissance more than universal stealth. On the left pectoral, a leaping heart escaping three arrows of mixed brown, green and gold, ranked him a marshal.
Earth stood to salute, only to have it returned with a vaguely camouflaged sneer. Scorn in his nostrils, conflict tightening his eyes, he did not dismiss protocol altogether and returned the greeting.
“You are required,” he then said, reaching a hand inside his cloak to retrieve a scrolled note. Having held it out for Earth to accept, without another word, he turned on his heel and left.
Earth watched him go, a petulant breeze in a stormy path. A moment later he looked back to the letter to examine the seal, fine melted wax of a deep green, speckled with gold, a bold hart between five arrows and five stars. He unrolled the thin but sturdy parchment and read it eagerly. A fluid and crisp script marked by a hand of purpose and decision, wrote,
“Orders: Arrive at the western edges of camp at midday, where the hills meet the stream. You will be found and escorted you to me. Before this, visit the Master of Arms. He is not as foul as his breath, and is under the same orders as you. Heed well to his wisdom, and do not make him wait. For Ambra and Prosperity, Gaoltea.”
The firm period after the general’s name stuck like a planet in orbit around Earth as he retooled and stowed the parchment one of his many new pockets. Retrieving his simple gladius and strapping on its sheath, he strode off in search of the quartermaster.
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