Post by Herz'ag Malurg on Dec 15, 2006 13:11:19 GMT -5
Once there was a small hamlet under the edge of a cliff and in this hamlet there lived a man who’s journey was to be a one of great discovery. He would be traveling from his home in Hamshire to Carverdale, a journey of roughly two fortnights. The man was a sergeant at the law and had to take care of a will of one of his clients who had recently died. The path was a boring one and took him by nothing of particular interest for the most part. The day he set off the sun was blocked by a multitude of clouds and the sky was grey with boredom.
He was not a particularly outstanding man and was dressed as any other could be. He had a drab brown tunic with a red squirrel fur vest over it. His pants were of an olive green and his boots were old and worn. He carried with him a quill, a knife, and other basic survival tools such as flints. He began his journey on a Monday his feet stamping the ground weighted down by his backpack. The forest enveloped the path and the branches of the trees reached over the path like the hands of God, cooling the man in the shade of his fingers. When he was hungry they provided him with supple peaches. At night they darkened the path and protected him from bats or any birds of prey.
Night after night he camped under its branches and partook of its fruits. After a few days howeve,r the journey began to make him draw weary. He pushed forward only to come to a place where the path split. One direction was a long path that brought him across a small hamlet where he could sleep in a real bed and have a drink of ale. The other direction however was a much shorter path that would take him through a dense forest but would also shorten his journey by up to four days. He was unsure of which way to go, as he was a man built upon his own self-doubt. Deliberating on which path to take he stayed there, near the fork, another night.
That night the man lay in bed and thought to himself, “Which way shall I go? Shall I go the shortened path through the woods or the much easier and safer path around them? Surely it must be decided tonight or either way I will be late. I am just not sure if I want to take the unsure path. It is hardly defined and looks rather untraversed and the other path I am sure is safe as I saw a group of travelers coming from the other way. I will have to think it through…” He rolled over and shortly thereafter, fell asleep.
The next morning as he was loading up his tent and supplies and putting out the previous nights hot coals, he looked down the longer path and then the forested path and then the path he had hence come. He turned on his heels and made his way into the forest. The sun was shining, casting a pattern of leaves upon his face. Deep in the forest one could hear the sounds of birds chirping. Not but a few minutes into the journey he spied a deer prancing gracefully through the woods. A glimmer of a smile was brought over the face of the normally grim gentleman and, if only for a moment, he felt young again. He was still unsure of himself as to whether he chose the right path but he had to stick with his decision as he had come too far now to just go back. He thought back to his childhood as a youth who played among the woods. Why had those times gone by so fast and why had he forgotten them so soon? He came across a small stream and rested there for the night thinking about where life had taken him.
The next day he began again on his journey, washing off in the babbling brook and refilling his water skin. Later he came across a small camp that looked as though it had just recently been abandoned. The coals in pit where still warm and with a little stoking they re-lit. It made the man realize that he had not been the only one to take this path and for that he felt stronger. After a short rest at the camp he continued on into the forest. Night came but the man pushed on and on. By the light of day the man could see that the path was no longer underfoot. He was frightened to think he was lost in these woods but knew that there was nothing to be frightened of here in these peaceful woodlands. He rested himself against a tree.
There he began to think to himself, “Where should I go? Which way is right? I have never been sure of myself but I must decide. I know I must be right in my decision. If I keep in the direction I am going I could still be on the right path or I could be walking deep into a forest.” He thought on what he had known as a boy, what his father had told him about how the world works.
“The sun always falls in the west, remember that.” It was shot into his mind, as his father always would preach it to him. He had never given the statement substantial weight until now. Maybe his father had always been smarter than he had given him credit for even though he had only been a poor soldier. His stood up and looked through the emerald leaves for the sun. Knowing it was early in the day he looked east. There it sat on the brim of the world, beaming joyously into his heart. He knew his travels took him to the north. He faced his right arm toward the sun and began to walk at a fever pitch straight north until, unknowingly he fell asleep from exhaustion.
Upon waking he knew it was late in the day so he then faced his left arm to the sun and continued to walk. The sights and sounds of the forest enveloped him and for the first time in many years he felt truly happy. He saw the edge of the forest but something was holding him there. The warmth of the coals, the babbling brook, the pattern of leaves on his face, and their emerald color blocking out the azure sky; he didn’t want to leave that place. However, he was a civilized man and he knew his duties. He was sad to have to leave the forest but knew someday instinctively he would return. He pushed through the edge of the forest and was back on the “safe” path. It all seemed so boring now and he was sad but he continued along till he came across the town.
He had arrived by what he had approximated as a day early so he took up room and board in a small inn. In the pub there was talk of bandits on the long path. He thought to himself about what could have happened to him had he taken that road. He was joyous in that he finally believed in himself. He had made the right decision and nothing could change that, but he dwelled on it no longer and had a pint of ale. That night when he laid in his cozy bed he dreamed a simple and happy dream of the forest and his childhood. The man finally learned to trust his decisions and was changed for the better. The next morning he awoke and went to his appointment with his client. Later he returned home going back through the forest. He told his children of his adventure and of the lessons he had learned and they were forever the better for it.
He was not a particularly outstanding man and was dressed as any other could be. He had a drab brown tunic with a red squirrel fur vest over it. His pants were of an olive green and his boots were old and worn. He carried with him a quill, a knife, and other basic survival tools such as flints. He began his journey on a Monday his feet stamping the ground weighted down by his backpack. The forest enveloped the path and the branches of the trees reached over the path like the hands of God, cooling the man in the shade of his fingers. When he was hungry they provided him with supple peaches. At night they darkened the path and protected him from bats or any birds of prey.
Night after night he camped under its branches and partook of its fruits. After a few days howeve,r the journey began to make him draw weary. He pushed forward only to come to a place where the path split. One direction was a long path that brought him across a small hamlet where he could sleep in a real bed and have a drink of ale. The other direction however was a much shorter path that would take him through a dense forest but would also shorten his journey by up to four days. He was unsure of which way to go, as he was a man built upon his own self-doubt. Deliberating on which path to take he stayed there, near the fork, another night.
That night the man lay in bed and thought to himself, “Which way shall I go? Shall I go the shortened path through the woods or the much easier and safer path around them? Surely it must be decided tonight or either way I will be late. I am just not sure if I want to take the unsure path. It is hardly defined and looks rather untraversed and the other path I am sure is safe as I saw a group of travelers coming from the other way. I will have to think it through…” He rolled over and shortly thereafter, fell asleep.
The next morning as he was loading up his tent and supplies and putting out the previous nights hot coals, he looked down the longer path and then the forested path and then the path he had hence come. He turned on his heels and made his way into the forest. The sun was shining, casting a pattern of leaves upon his face. Deep in the forest one could hear the sounds of birds chirping. Not but a few minutes into the journey he spied a deer prancing gracefully through the woods. A glimmer of a smile was brought over the face of the normally grim gentleman and, if only for a moment, he felt young again. He was still unsure of himself as to whether he chose the right path but he had to stick with his decision as he had come too far now to just go back. He thought back to his childhood as a youth who played among the woods. Why had those times gone by so fast and why had he forgotten them so soon? He came across a small stream and rested there for the night thinking about where life had taken him.
The next day he began again on his journey, washing off in the babbling brook and refilling his water skin. Later he came across a small camp that looked as though it had just recently been abandoned. The coals in pit where still warm and with a little stoking they re-lit. It made the man realize that he had not been the only one to take this path and for that he felt stronger. After a short rest at the camp he continued on into the forest. Night came but the man pushed on and on. By the light of day the man could see that the path was no longer underfoot. He was frightened to think he was lost in these woods but knew that there was nothing to be frightened of here in these peaceful woodlands. He rested himself against a tree.
There he began to think to himself, “Where should I go? Which way is right? I have never been sure of myself but I must decide. I know I must be right in my decision. If I keep in the direction I am going I could still be on the right path or I could be walking deep into a forest.” He thought on what he had known as a boy, what his father had told him about how the world works.
“The sun always falls in the west, remember that.” It was shot into his mind, as his father always would preach it to him. He had never given the statement substantial weight until now. Maybe his father had always been smarter than he had given him credit for even though he had only been a poor soldier. His stood up and looked through the emerald leaves for the sun. Knowing it was early in the day he looked east. There it sat on the brim of the world, beaming joyously into his heart. He knew his travels took him to the north. He faced his right arm toward the sun and began to walk at a fever pitch straight north until, unknowingly he fell asleep from exhaustion.
Upon waking he knew it was late in the day so he then faced his left arm to the sun and continued to walk. The sights and sounds of the forest enveloped him and for the first time in many years he felt truly happy. He saw the edge of the forest but something was holding him there. The warmth of the coals, the babbling brook, the pattern of leaves on his face, and their emerald color blocking out the azure sky; he didn’t want to leave that place. However, he was a civilized man and he knew his duties. He was sad to have to leave the forest but knew someday instinctively he would return. He pushed through the edge of the forest and was back on the “safe” path. It all seemed so boring now and he was sad but he continued along till he came across the town.
He had arrived by what he had approximated as a day early so he took up room and board in a small inn. In the pub there was talk of bandits on the long path. He thought to himself about what could have happened to him had he taken that road. He was joyous in that he finally believed in himself. He had made the right decision and nothing could change that, but he dwelled on it no longer and had a pint of ale. That night when he laid in his cozy bed he dreamed a simple and happy dream of the forest and his childhood. The man finally learned to trust his decisions and was changed for the better. The next morning he awoke and went to his appointment with his client. Later he returned home going back through the forest. He told his children of his adventure and of the lessons he had learned and they were forever the better for it.