Author's Note: Randomness is starting to fade. Am glad it is over, let's just hope we've seen then end of it.
Disclaimer: Don't own Troy, or anything to do with Troy.
Lots of scene changes, a few random shots of Troy and the beach and praying people, random scene flicks stop on a congregation of Trojans talking about the war to come, surprise surprise
Glaucus: If they want a war, we'll give them a war, I'd match the best of Greece against the best of Troy anyday.
Other men cheer, not realising exactly what Glaucus just said.
Velior: I'm going to make this short. I don't think we can win,but then again; I'm constantly pesimistic. Let's make peace with Greece, they're only here because Paris decided to elope with a blonde bimbo scrag from Sparta.
Priam acknoweldges this... so does Paris.
Priam: Glaucus, you've fought with me for over forty years, can we win this war?
Glaucus: Our walls have never been breached, our archers are the best in the world, and we have Hector (Hector rolls his eyes at this blatant ass kissing sentence). Yes I think we can win.
Scotsman from Achilles' tent (in chapter 1) stands up.
Scotsman: Aye for Scotland!
Whole room cheers.
Archeptolemus: I spoke with two farmers today. They saw an eagle flying with a serpant clutched in it's talons, I then asked them what they had been eating. So they fed me some mushrooms, and I too saw the eagle, this is a sign from Apollo, we will win. (Philosophically).
Hector: You ate magic mushrooms, you're going to plan our strategy on magic mushrooms?
Priam: Hector, show respect, when Archeptolemus smoked pot he prophesised that there would be four years of drought, so we dug deeper wells, and even though we are still waiting for the drought, he is a servant of the gods.
Hector: And I'm a servant of Troy. I've always honoured the gods father.
Paris coughs and it sounds suspiciously like 'bullshit'.
Hector: But today I fought a Greek who desecrated the statue of Apollo. Apollo didn't kick his ass, but he'd probably get a broken foot, damn those buns were tight.
Hector looks sheepish, but continues.
Hector: The gods won't fight this war for us.
Paris: (in another pathetic attempt to outdo his brother's bravery)There won't be a war.
Priam: Paris! Stop embarassing ... yourself.
Paris: Tomorrow morning I will challenge Menelaus for the right to Helen. The winner will take her home. The loser will burn before nightfall.
Hector: You should probably prepare... (coughs which suspiciously sounds like 'the firewood').
Paris storms off.