As a general, GarGar le comte des Deux Chats was beyond reproach. Not one to hide in his tent during a battle, he was always there on the front lines, encouraging his men, directing the operation. After a battle, he was always sure to visit the wounded, making sure that they were getting the best of care possible. For this, his men loved him. It was obvious to all that he loved his soldiers in return.
In short order, the plaudits for le comte poured in. At court he preferred to wear his uniform, emblazoned with medals. He loved the feel of his sword as it bounced against his leg, especially when dancing. Unlike most of the men at court, he did not wear a wig. Instead he wore his general’s cap with its jaunty feather from a bird of paradise. With his confident stride and friendly smile, he was the bon vivant of the entire palace.
From his dais, King GarGar enthroned, could see his all of his soldiers who had fled the field of battle in cowardly fear for their miserable lives. There were well over a thousand of them, broken down into groups of ten. His Majesty could see them all. They had been forced to draw lots. The loser in each group was stripped to his waist, while the other nine were given cudgels. When the King gave the signal, a trumpet blasted. This was the note that the chosen nine awaited. They began to beat their comrade to death. This was the true definition of decimation.
There was one thing King GarGar could not tolerate and that was desertion.
[CAPTION: GarGar plays fiercely with his furry toy.]