Phanias L. Lydikes strides into the council chambers with a pronounced bowlegged appearance and the dust of the East still clinging to him. "So, we are bickering again over the fate of the Ptolemaic dogs again, are we? Are we ever going to learn that time spent vacillating over 'should we attack here, should we attack there?' just give them yet another chance to catch us with our chitons around our ankles?" Glaring at Polyxenidos Lykikos "AND YOU, YOU BABYLONIAN FREAK, If I Didn't know Mardakou well, I'd be inclined to think you're all a bunch of whiny, poppy addled jackarses who can't help meddling in things they obviously know nothing about. Just because you can't tell the business end of an army from your arsehole doesn't mean you should all of a sudden question the way an obviously seasoned warrior conducts a war. So shut your hole, smoke this" throwing a large bundle of Skythian herb at him "and stick to your trade contracts. Who do you think protects your precious caravans anyway. If it weren't for warriors like the Basileus, you'd be nothing but a poor arsed dirt scrabbler like the rest of the peasants."
Re: The Royal Council
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