A scribbled note and a page....
Posted: Tue Dec 23, 2003 10:45 pm
The sun was setting, beyond the trees of the forest. Leaning against a tree on the coast, Sean Elaski thinks about the past day.
Everything that was clear, confused him as he pondered what had happened moments before. He watches the sky for a while, just thinking, organising thoughts. Then out of his small travelling bag, he takes a small decorative knife. The blade of the knife was remarkably clean, it hadent been used on anything....yet.
He takes the knife to his arm, and cuts, and cuts again a bit higher, and again several times. he switches to the other arm, cutting it again and again. The blood begins to pour and run down his arms.
The last bit of sun leaves the sky, as the large blueish white moon rises. In front of it, like a falcon with bleeding wings, Sean Elaski spreeds his arms wide, blood pours down out of the wounds and onto the sand of the beach.
Sean Elaski howls a primal howl, before dropping to his knees. Several animals in the wooded area join in.
He takes out his leather bound note book, and puts a finger to one of his wounds. He dabs the finger on the page, collects his things, and enters town.
Once in town, he enters the shop, keeping his thick robes tight around him as so no one can see his wounds, he pins a note and a page on the board.
The note scribbled, says:
As you read this, you wonder who posted it. Well, what does it matter as long as someone posted it? My friends, fellow citizens of trolls bane! If you do not stop this constant madness, you yourselves will lead yourselves into the age of self destruction! What is this....constant fighting? whining? lying? Where does it get us? I too believe peace comes at a price, but is it a price we are willing to speak about, or a price we are willing to die for? Stop with the manly contest of who has the largest sword, or the prettiest wife. This is not living, this is idiocy. If you want a contest, see how far you can piss when your dead, for I fear many of you will be very soon at this rate. I sit here writing, though I should be listening....so I end my ramble now before I start to argue, once more. Its Unsigned.
Behind the note, is a picture of a knight with a sword, under a hot sun with a bird flying above him, to the top right is two words "No Peace." The knights head has a bloody splotched finger print on it.
Everything that was clear, confused him as he pondered what had happened moments before. He watches the sky for a while, just thinking, organising thoughts. Then out of his small travelling bag, he takes a small decorative knife. The blade of the knife was remarkably clean, it hadent been used on anything....yet.
He takes the knife to his arm, and cuts, and cuts again a bit higher, and again several times. he switches to the other arm, cutting it again and again. The blood begins to pour and run down his arms.
The last bit of sun leaves the sky, as the large blueish white moon rises. In front of it, like a falcon with bleeding wings, Sean Elaski spreeds his arms wide, blood pours down out of the wounds and onto the sand of the beach.
Sean Elaski howls a primal howl, before dropping to his knees. Several animals in the wooded area join in.
He takes out his leather bound note book, and puts a finger to one of his wounds. He dabs the finger on the page, collects his things, and enters town.
Once in town, he enters the shop, keeping his thick robes tight around him as so no one can see his wounds, he pins a note and a page on the board.
The note scribbled, says:
As you read this, you wonder who posted it. Well, what does it matter as long as someone posted it? My friends, fellow citizens of trolls bane! If you do not stop this constant madness, you yourselves will lead yourselves into the age of self destruction! What is this....constant fighting? whining? lying? Where does it get us? I too believe peace comes at a price, but is it a price we are willing to speak about, or a price we are willing to die for? Stop with the manly contest of who has the largest sword, or the prettiest wife. This is not living, this is idiocy. If you want a contest, see how far you can piss when your dead, for I fear many of you will be very soon at this rate. I sit here writing, though I should be listening....so I end my ramble now before I start to argue, once more. Its Unsigned.
Behind the note, is a picture of a knight with a sword, under a hot sun with a bird flying above him, to the top right is two words "No Peace." The knights head has a bloody splotched finger print on it.