Nearly 3 years gone by
The company almost disbanded. I guess the core leadership still kept in touch, but Gavrillo platoon went its seperate ways. What else do you do when the Red Wizards put a price on your head? You go to ground and assume a new identity, break ties with the old and hope that no thread is still connected as you set out into the bush.
I chose the river. That winding stream so many others had set out upon with sword or torch in hand, finding neither fortune or fame, but instead a slow death, like malaria. You toil and sweat fighting the river upstream and fighting mosquito's and other fortune seekers downstream. I would call them pirates, but that is what we all are really, should the opportunity arise. It is really just a matter of circumstance.
I've been working as spotter for Black Duke. He's a captian of a slow boat that runs rum up the river and herbs down. He was Captain Black Duke, but that was too long so he shortened it. He is neither black nor a duke, it's not even his name. He just liked the sound of it. Guess if you have a boat you can name it and yourself whatever you want. I'm not so sure he evens owns the boat himself, it's sort of a loan. I keep biding my time, maybe one day my eyes won't be so sharp and the dear captain will catch a spear from the shoreline. A present from a native jealous of our mobility. The mate is old and its doubtful he would make a bid to be captain, I'm the only one on the boat with combat experience outside of bar rooms so it would only take the suggestion for them to look on me as the new captian. But, I'm not so sure I want to even be captian.
The one thing I do know is that the longer I sit on this boat the stronger the Red Wizards become and the weaker my attachment to Company. I have to get back to the Company, have to warn them that while our memories are short the Red Wizards memories are long. Our problem won't just go away, we have to deal with it ourselves. Go to the heart of the problem, the heart of darkness.
The mate on this old boat has one rule, and he lives by it "never get off the boat" he says. Well, my friends, I am about to break that rule. If I am going to live, I have to get off this boat. But, that may be the death of me.
I chose the river. That winding stream so many others had set out upon with sword or torch in hand, finding neither fortune or fame, but instead a slow death, like malaria. You toil and sweat fighting the river upstream and fighting mosquito's and other fortune seekers downstream. I would call them pirates, but that is what we all are really, should the opportunity arise. It is really just a matter of circumstance.
I've been working as spotter for Black Duke. He's a captian of a slow boat that runs rum up the river and herbs down. He was Captain Black Duke, but that was too long so he shortened it. He is neither black nor a duke, it's not even his name. He just liked the sound of it. Guess if you have a boat you can name it and yourself whatever you want. I'm not so sure he evens owns the boat himself, it's sort of a loan. I keep biding my time, maybe one day my eyes won't be so sharp and the dear captain will catch a spear from the shoreline. A present from a native jealous of our mobility. The mate is old and its doubtful he would make a bid to be captain, I'm the only one on the boat with combat experience outside of bar rooms so it would only take the suggestion for them to look on me as the new captian. But, I'm not so sure I want to even be captian.
The one thing I do know is that the longer I sit on this boat the stronger the Red Wizards become and the weaker my attachment to Company. I have to get back to the Company, have to warn them that while our memories are short the Red Wizards memories are long. Our problem won't just go away, we have to deal with it ourselves. Go to the heart of the problem, the heart of darkness.
The mate on this old boat has one rule, and he lives by it "never get off the boat" he says. Well, my friends, I am about to break that rule. If I am going to live, I have to get off this boat. But, that may be the death of me.
posted by Black Hand Annalist at 10:21 AM
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