Of Brendon and Oliver and the army of speedy messengers

[Griefmaker]

(Note to the reader: The following is based upon fact, not fiction. The basis of the story is real, though certainly minor details have been unintentionally muddied up from the time of the events when this story actually took place, until the time of the following presentation some many centuries later.)

There is a gentle applause that ripples through the many assembled guests within the Hall of Arts as a very flamboyant fellow bearing a lute steps onto the stage. Even a blind bat could tell at first blush that this silly looking buffoon of a fellow is a bard.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Tonight I, Alluicious, renown Bard of the Lands, shall relate to you a tale that has fermented like the finest of wines until this day and age when it has turned into legend! It is a tale of wonder! A tale of mystery! A tale of woe! A tale of that which is now known by us mere mortals as "bromance"! So sit back and relax as I conjure up images of the past for you to relive!"


And so it came to pass that he who would become the Archdruid of All of Toril and of the Planes themselves, Brendon Aseph, was speaking to the scantily clad Archmage of the Arcane Tower of Arelith, one Elise. The scantily clad and outrageously busty, thanks to liberal use from her talents of transmutation, Elise was hanging off each and every pearl of wisdom to fall from Brendon's wise lips when suddenly a rather shady looking individual ran up with a letter addressed to Brendon. The speedy messenger hin offered the letter and the contents are as follows:

"Hail to thee, Brendon of the Wonderfully Wooded Wilds! Mine name doth be Sir Oliver Selakiir and I seek out thee to learn of thine heart mind in regards to a missive penned by thy hand. Prithee respond posthaste that we might make wondrous dreams a reality! S. Oliver Selakiir"

And Brendon did read and reread and reread a third time this intriguing letter which so caused a flutter within his very being. "Whom doth this fine fellow be?" mused he. And with that, he forgot all about the mindbogglingly attractive Elise and departed to the nearest settlement to seek a sketchy hin to deliver a message.

Swiftly the criminal speedy messenger was found admist a sea of such thieves, for yea, as all know hin...and in particular those of the Burrowhome of myth and legend...were all the sort to stab their mothers in the backs and smother babies for a half-pence, the wretched buggers. But the fellow served the purpose of Brendon and forthwith carried a response back to the overly-impressive and exquisitely muscled Oliver Selakiir.

"Hail and well met I bid thee, Oliver. Well received was thine missive, like a bursting gas bubble within mine gut, and in all haste didst I depart...someone, whom I cannot remember since my mind doth be filled with thee! Hither and thither lingers I, so come whence thou mayest."

And so did Brendon the Bold, Brendon the Brave, Brendon the Brawny, Brendon the Badass, Brendon the Burly, Brendon the Badger-King, Brendon the...well I could go on for literally ages about the magnificence of he whom we all revere and worship now as a god. But wait did he as day turned into night and night once more fell away upon the onslaught of day.

Woe be upon he, for Oliver Selakiir did not appear!

After five weeks at least of waiting and slowly growing roots in the place he lingered, up ran a pickpocket...er...speedy messenger. Within his grubby fist still stained with the blood of his latest victim was held a pristine note. Proffering it to Brendon, the contents soon became known to him:

"Brendon, Greatest of Druids in the Realm, I grovel upon mine worthless belly afore thee and kiss thine feet in apology. For I was waylaid by the elves of Myon, my kinswoman, and swiftly did they sweep me away for deeds which were terrible and I cannot in good conscious relate to you."

At this Brendon nodded in sympathetic understanding, for all know that the females known as "elves" are a licentious group whom seek to feast upon the souls of true-hearted men. Briefly did Brendon fear for his friend, for though they had shared but one letter, already was there the budding of something...more. Taking a deep breath and fearing the worst, the doughty druid read on.

"Though I failed in front of thine person most grievously, I am available to thee at thine convenience. Meet me and all shall be laid bare!"

With a curse at the conniving hin to stay out of his purse, Brendon sprinted away, roots and vines and moss which had begun to cling to his form fluttering in the wind of his passage. This time, the worthy Oliver and he would meet! He swore it upon the miserable life of the creature that gave him the note, which was unfortunate for that particular hin.

Because as often happens, events did not turn out as planned. For doom was nigh! Nay, 'tis not the grim doom of death which the crows cried out as Brendon passed under them like a leaf upon the wind. But the doom...of distraction.

For blocking the path of the single-minded Brendon was something even he could not withstand. Regardless of how manful and wise and intelligent and strong Brendon was, the siren call of adventure ever bloomed in his soul.

And so it came to pass that the lords of the Hells themselves devised the next plot to ensure Brendon and Oliver would not meet. For as Brendon ran like a speeding gazelle into the walled city of Cordor, there lay a trap of the most heinous magnitude before him. Females drooling for adventure and demanding, yea I shall repeat it, demanding with threats against the life, limb, and masculinity of Brendon, should he not join them. The last swayed the ever-stalwart druid I am sad to say, for though the three times he dressed in makeup and female clothes were admittedly interesting...from a scholarly standpoint, of course...he could not justify a fourth such outing even if he claimed it was "for science".

The ever cunning (and of course scantily clad) Sorri, with her dream-like beauty and vixen-like charm and evil witch-like powers of suggestion did steal the soul right from the grand hero Brendon. Along with the seductress were her cohorts in crime, Meredith the Malevolent, Toniel the Terrible, Diem the Devious...and others who do not come into this tale because of the fact that strong drink has caused this overly-fabulous bard, the Evergreat Alluicious, to forget their names. Regardless, as all know about women, they were scantily clad and reeking of foul pheromones designed to discombobulate any who might suffer their cruel gaze.

So twisted in their foul web was Brendon, that he suffered a serious lapse in judgement and allowed the women to distract him away from his goal: Oliver. But even then one of our heroes in this tale had the wherewithal and determination to send his long-distance friend, compatriot, and brother-of-a-different-mother a message. Once more the disgusting hin speedy messengers leached coin from Brendon, but this allowed a note to be sent to Oliver. Within was as follows:

"Help mine friend, for I shalt surely be devoured by Sorri and her Gang of Minimally-Dressed Malificents! But if thou shalt deny my heart-felt plea, then know mine great apology for missing the meeting with thee. Contrite doth I be and beg forgiveness, but hope the stars shalt align swith so that we mayest meet."

For many a month and more were sent such missives between the two manliest of men. And with each, they begged forgiveness due to being unable to meet because of "things", usually meaning the partaking of mind-altering substances as was wont to occur in those days long past. Yet with each letter grew the bond which caused them to giggle like schoolgirls each time they received a new correspondence.

In fact, what these two ended up doing was something so earth-shatteringly important that life as we now know it would not exist if not for Brendon and Oliver. These two created something which has become a time-honored tradition still extensively in use this very day. For they fashioned and penned a name to that which is known as "Speedy Messenger Tag", also known as the "Art of Sending Hin with Messages Back and Forth Because Homeboy is Doing Something at Present and Cannot Be Disturbed, But Try Back Again Later. Thank You. Oh and Do Not Forget To Kiss Your Mother and Put Down the Loo Seat For Your Wife Once You Are Done Using It." Obviously Speedy Messenger Tag was less of a mouthful and so was adopted and has become one of the most popular ways of communication today!

A second side-effect of the dozens, if not hundreds of letters sent back and forth as Brendon and Oliver attempted, and ultimately failed, to meet about something which Brendon had long ago forgotten about was that between the two of them, they had successfully paid the way for sixteen hin families to send their ill-gotten brood...I mean children...to the Evil Hin School for Pickpockets, Burglars, and Murderers. Admittedly, that was a rather dark side effect of their actions, which the wise druid and the genius elf should have thought of...but sadly, their blossoming bond could not be contained and so they gave in to temptation and damn the consequences of their actions!

But though the two always seemed to miss each other, yea akin to two ships passing silently in the night, at long last Destiny had her way and within the Hallowed Place of Natural Orgy, also known as the Heartwood Grove, the two men finally met.

Twenty paces distanced the two men as they eyed each other thoughtfully. Brendon's warm chocolate gaze studied Oliver intently, whilst the elf's eyes lingered upon the druid and twinkled in pure delight from behind the tinted shade of his helm.

And then came the time for the two men to finally greet each other in person! He of overly-abundant muscles, full beard, and thick carpets of hair upon chest, back and, shoulders; the elf who is known as Oliver, closed the distance between the two men. Brendon merely stood there amidst the flowers, though he did not inhale their scent. Nay, instead they inhaled the scent of his overt masculinity, which was ripe and lush and called to all for miles about.

Scant feet apart now both men filled their lungs and spoke words which changed their lives forever.

"Greetings."

And thus was born that which we still worship even to this very day. For in that place at that time, there was known The Bromance. And the world has never been the same since.