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#101
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[60 Sorcerer] Bedelia Grantham <I Want My Cake>
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#102
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I mean really, at this point you are arguing for the sake of arguing or appearing edgy on a message board or you are the one with a truly fucked up universe. | |||
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#103
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![]() The end of book 22 from Homer's Iliad:
Seeing her son’s hair fouled with dust, Hecabe, his mother gave a great cry, plucked the gleaming veil from her head, and tore her hair. His father Priam groaned in anguish, and a wave of grief spread round them through the city, no less than if all of lofty Ilium were on fire. The old man could scarcely be restrained in his frenzy, as he made for the Dardanian Gate. He grovelled in the dust, imploring those around, calling each man by his name: ‘Friends, let me be, despite your care. Let me go out from the city alone, to the Achaean ships. I will see if that man of violence, devoid of shame, respects old age and my weight of years. He has a father, Peleus, as old, I think, as I am, who begot him and raised him to be a bane to Troy, though to me above all others he brings sorrow, killing so many of my sons in their prime. Yet despite my grief for the others, I mourn this one above all, with a bitter sorrow that will send me to Hades’ Halls, this Hector. If he could but have died in my arms! Then I and his mother, who to her sorrow bore him, could have wept and wailed our fill over his corpse.’ So he wept, and the people added their tears. Now, among the women, Hecabe raised loud lament: ‘My child, how wretched I am! Why should I live on in suffering now you are dead? You were my pride of Troy, night and day, a saviour, greeted as a god, by every man and women in this city, surely their great glory while you lived. But now death and fate overtake you.’ Hecabe wept, but Andromache, Hector’s wife, as yet knew nothing, no one had even told her that her husband had stayed outside the walls. She was at work in an inner room of the lofty palace, weaving a double-width purple tapestry, with a multicoloured pattern of flowers. In all ignorance she had asked her ladies-in-waiting to set a great cauldron on the fire so that Hector would have hot water for a bath, when he returned, never dreaming that far from all thought of baths, he had been brought low by Achilles and bright-eyed Athene. But now the cries and groans from the wall reached her, she trembled and the shuttle fell from her hand. She called to her ladies-in-waiting: ‘Two of you come with me. I must know what is happening. That was my husband’s noble mother I heard, my heart is in my mouth and my legs are numb. Some evil afflicts the House of Priam. May such news stay far from me, but I fear to my sorrow lest great Achilles has cut brave Hector off from the city, and quenched the fatal courage that possessed him, for he would never stay safely in the ranks, but must always charge ahead, yielding to none in daring.’ So saying, she ran through the halls, her heart pounding, beside herself, and her ladies followed. When they came to the wall, where the men were thronging, she rushed to the battlements and gazing out saw Hector’s corpse being hauled from the city, the powerful horses dragging it savagely towards the hollow ships. Darkness shrouded her eyes, enfolding her, and she fell backward, senseless. From her head fell the bright headdress, the frontlet and netted cap, the plaited strands, and the veil that golden Aphrodite had given her when Hector of the gleaming helm had led her from Eëtion’s house, having paid a princely dowry for his bride. Her husband’s sisters and his brother’s wives crowded round her, and supported her in her dead faint. When she revived and her senses returned, she lifted her voice in lament, to the women of Troy, crying: ‘Oh, Hector, alas for me! It seems we were born for this, you in Priam’s palace, here in Troy, I in Thebe below wooded Placus, in Eëtion’s house. He it was who reared me from a babe, unlucky father of an ill-fated child. How I wish he’d never engendered me! Now you are gone to the House of Hades under the earth, but I remain cold with grief, a widow in your halls. And your son, the child of doomed parents, our child, a mere babe, can no longer give you joy, dead Hector: nor can you give joy to him. Even if he survives this dreadful war against the Greeks, toil and suffering will be his fate, bereft of all his lands. An orphaned child is severed from his playmates; He goes about with downcast looks and tear-stained cheeks, plucks his father’s friends by the cloak or tunic, till one, from pity, holds the wine-cup to his lips, but only for a moment, enough to wet his lips but not his palate. And some lad with both parents alive strikes him with his fist and drives him from the feast, jeering at him in reproach: “Away with you, now! You’ve no father here.” So my child will run in tears to his widowed mother, my son Astyanax, who sat on his father’s knee eating the rich fat and the sheep’s marrow, and when he was sleepy and tired of play, slept in his nurse’s arms in a soft bed, his dreams sweet. Now, with his dear father gone, ills will crowd on him. Astyanax, that is Lord of the City, the Trojans call him, since you Hector were the great defender of the gates and the high walls. Now by the beaked ships, far from your kin, the writhing worms will devour your corpse, once the dogs have had their fill, your naked corpse, though in your house are all the fine, finely-woven clothes that women’s hands can fashion. All those I will burn in a great fire, since you will no more wear or profit by them, as a mark of honour shown you by the men and women of Troy.’ So Andromache spoke, in tears, while the women joined in her lament. We all know parents or are parents.
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#104
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#105
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Up until this post, you've been trying harder than I have. Now I'm going to "try to(sp) hard" Quote:
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There are far more important things being addressed in this thread than this little spat of BS. Even if what you said was true, you standing there and pointing it out makes you as much of an ass as you are implying that I am. Way to go asshat, you really "won" this one. I guess your above post shows your half smart and realized that no one ever really "wins" an argument online. Your view of my post is not going to change based on what I've wrote here, and that's fine. I wasn't going to just sit here and let some halfwit elementary school student (see what I did there?) get up on his char and shout "teacher, teacher!" when he had no basis for what he was saying, and no reason other than to try to "one-up" someone in a thread about killing children. Sorry for the massive de-rail. You may all continue on your regularly scheduled flaming of Alawen. Speaking of which, Alawen, in one or two of your posts you said, Quote:
That is all. | |||||||||
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#106
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![]() Alawen and HBB pretty spot on
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#109
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#110
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![]() LOL totally.
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