Final Words of Eckhart
February 23, 2010 00:30
From the collected thoughts of Eckhart: Once again on the road. The ocean and our boat lies behind and the sea of sand opens up before us. My comrades seem to be talking this well, better than me. Stinking camels in this baking desert. We are following the last of our goods, several books, these are most eagerly sought after by my comrade Moridin. I have a few small suspicions as to his intentions that have been growing as of late but he seems to be a valuable ally and quite trustworthy. I would much rather he be on my side when I ascend to power, because I am feeling that I will not be able to do it alone.
More days of the desert sun, the smell of camel, the sweltering heat, the endless pace, and sleepless nights. I feel naked in this light wrap but my armor is unbearable. How I long to be away, back on our ship and out at sea. A breeze that smells good and refreshes the soul not like this dusty blast of heat that bears tiny grains of sand that sting the skin and eyes and gets into everything you own. I wish to be with a wholesome crew who know discipline and who know me language, I believe that these guides we have hired do not have our best interests at heart. What a cruel trick of fate would it be if my destiny were to be fulfilled here, to rule the sands, but no one can unite a people who travel at a whim and hold no ties further than blood. just another task and test, but I am patient and nothing will stand in my way.
What is this, out on the horizon? I did not even see the dust till my comrades, and the guides seem to to have kept to themselves about this point. Horsemen, but what do they want and why do the guides seem so calm, too calm, why would caravans hire guards if all there was out here were benevolent friends. I’ll be damned if I am to be cut down on this stinking beast with not but a sheet on. I shall bear the heat of my armor and meet them like a man.
Four black riders. My comrades have decided to let them ride up upon us with our weapons aside, but this is fair, we should hope for peace. But I do not trust black riders in a barbarian land who harass travelers, they will most likely demand tribute for a road that does not exist.
They approach and the guides distance themselves from us. Kethlan tries to talk to them but he is slow with not but a scroll. Luckily one of these nomads knows some traldarian, but he speaks it like a barbarian. What Ho! He insults us, his lowly self claims that we are uncivilized and he even tries to take away our scroll, so they may all talk behind our backs and make lies, no doubt. Just as I suspected, they think that we will be easy pray to demand money for passage through no man’s land. Now he approaches me, the wretch. And he calls me a fish. And asks me what knid of fish I am. Now, I will bear insult little longer, he stands high and mighty with a sword looking down upon an unarmed man, So I will think up the wittiest response to say, “A Deadly Fish!”…. Damn! that was horrible. Well I always speak better with my blade than my mouth.
Uhff, bastard just kicked me, he kicked me. Mr high and mighty thinks that he is out of my reach, well we’ll see what my halberd has to say about that. It is a duel, I have been dishonored! Luckily Eil can understand a duel, this barbarian wanted to catch me before I got to my weapon, no honor!
But now I have it. My Halberd. he is coming at me. His sword is raised. I can see the whites of his eyes and hear the ring of his sword. I plant my pole. back end against my foot, blade right at his heart. this man must have some courage, he commits unwaveringly towards my halberd. And contact, I can feel his bones break and his body crumple.
But now all about me is a maelstrom of shouts and action. Again Eil is quick to act and ever my greatest ally, he shields my body with his own and blocks the cowards javelins. Why should they be angry, what do they expect when barbarous chief meets a real man of Minrothad. But the shouts are from my own friends. I have just time to retrieve the fallen man’s blade to defend myself but my comrades have all become naysayers. “Turn yourself in to them,” they say, “they were in the right and you in the wrong.” What betrayal is this I hope Eil will not feel their mutiny for they have no respect for the discipline of things, the fight was between me and the fallen but now everyone has to give their thoughts, or javelins.
I put down the sword, my friends seems to be thinking of something, I can agree that with the nomad’s increased mobility it would be difficult to pursue them were one of them to run.
A man is tying me up, and one last show from Eil that he is ever on my side but they must live to fight an other day, so that my rescue may be without rash decisions.
I am carried a way my body captured but not my faith, these comrades shall be along soon and I shall be freed to travel with them once again, all I need is to keep up hope.