Desultory

"Have you ever observed an ant before, or any insect for that matter? Its movements are curious, at least to my eyes. It appears to come and go at random, its purpose and direction guided by the lay of the land. It cares no more about where it has been, ever focused on where it is going. That, then begs the question; where is it going? Does its movement warrant intentions, do its legs carry motives? Is it simply searching for the next meal, or does it simply meander and if it recognizes a useful piece of its life's puzzle, it acts accordingly? I seem to be full of questions, but it simply goes to show what even the tiniest of creatures can illicit in thought. What do you think, Garrison?

Sanctorum

We arrived in short time, the Sanctum brimming with practitioners ready to give their senses to the unknown. I was simply pondering the string of events that lead me here. In retrospect I knew, whether I wanted to acknowledge it or not. Sampson and his wife wore typical garments suited for practice, purchasing myself some as well since I sold any superfluous items in my possession to become a hero (eventually). It was my only goal in life, what did I need of respectable garmentry when my armor spoke for me in all situations. The architecture of the church of state was incredible. Intricate designs in front with several pillars, seven to be exact, each plated with an outline of important people and the moments they created, a summation of the seven times, points in history that lent to the creation and success of the state. If this interminable war would ever end, that moment would undoubtedly become the eight pole.

Vicarious

The prey was mine that day, or rather I, as the prey, was made that day.  I ventured forward to establish dominance in the hunt, but the beast didn't move a single eye, or what I had imagined to be eyes on my preconceived notions of a head.  Without warning, it burst upward....She burst upward?  A well placed spear fell the Cervidae and I was left in a daze.  Did I see hair flowing from the helm?  Reality brought itself to my attention as I realized I was standing in the brush, gazing vacantly at an armored hunter who had just procured my dinner.  

Weaver

"Sir, if I may; Why do you tell these tales? I mean, I understand certain aspects, like illustrating to the men the meaning of battle, companionship, the story of man an all that rot, but what do you get out of it. I don't mean to be blunt, but.....I guess I feel like some of these stories pain you to tell." To him, my response was an eternity away, words that would finally release him from his burdensome curiosity. I'm glad to lead men like him, those that are aware of substance beyond the shallow skin of reality. " Is pain not a commonality of our profession? I don't mean being a soldier, or a Hero, I mean being of persona; the act of being a person. Stories to me are the ties that bind: they operate as an avenue, a connection to the moments in my life I want to know, as well as the ones I don't. They give me the opportunity to provide wisdom, be it in those decisions I made rightfully or ones that fall otherwise, either course they gain recognition and I cannot hide from the fact they exist no matter how much I want to hide from them. Knowing you know my story is enough for me to face the errors of my past rather than hide. You remember Phaea don't you? He was a very real man and a very real illustration of what I never want to be. I'd rather be a man faulted for his honesty, but lauded for his allegiance to his comrades rather than one who abandons the moment matters get difficult. When times are in their harshest state, would you rather be allegiant to those who were with you in difficult times or those who only know the joys of your company rather than the sorrows?

As surely as I've found my footing, illness has crept her withered hands into me, and I will be interred for the time being. Apy polly wogies.

She bore the armor of the Insecta, a tribe that modeled itself on what is normally considering the smallest of creation. The plates fit together seemingly perfectly, allowing movement and protection. I came across her the night prior, hunting in a wooded area just off our course. At first I had mistook her for a large animal, nestled into the ground, slumbering to the sounds of nature. The thought did occur to me to hunt it, but I restrained myself when I realized what adorned it was armor. Piercing it would be more pain than necessity. The movements were subtle at first, and since the beast was foreign, at least to me, I wouldn't have known the difference between that of the creature as opposed to that of imitation. When I found the creature's eyes with my own, there was a realization; we were hunting the same prey. i wasn't about to forsake the large Cervidae, the beast was capable of feeding a scouting troop if the hunter wrests properly, and today I was that hunter. In retrospect, the hunter and the hunted held many meanings that epoch of kismet.

The One

Following orders can mean many things to many people. To some, it is a stringent stance, textbook in hand and the vocals of a superior resonating in the dome. To others it is a varied mistress who situates herself in the realm of circumstance. Trust me when I speak; no textbook will prepare for battle. None. And that means any battle at that, be it matters of love or matters of war. Preparation is only the art of fine tuning the senses to what will inevitably happen. A binding with never prepare you for the true nuances in life, this I attest with my life.