I always dreamed I’d die wealthy. And I guess I got my wish. Only, I’d hoped to be much older when the time came. One other small caveat is that I would have liked a chance to spend at least some of it. But I guess you can’t have your cake and eat it too. When word first reached the East that a simple man like me could pull himself up from the dirt and make his fortune out West, I set out with my compadre in the hopes of striking it rich. A real chance to find the motherlode. The whole deal.
My family has never come from rich stock. We’ve always dug our meager living out of the ground with our own two hands. So, it seemed right somehow, that by that same method, I could finally change our stars. With nothing but a shovel or a pick, I could use the only skill I knew, the meager inheritance of my forefathers, to shape a greater destiny for my progeny.
It was this hope that led me to abandon my family. I promised my wife and children that I would do anything it took to find our inheritance. I loathed the idea of leaving them to fend for themselves, but striking gold would mean never going hungry again. I’ve sacrificed so much for the dream of the West. And technically, I fulfilled my promise. But with my death now assured, I have fallen short of bringing it home.
I had hoped to see their faces again, to hold them in my arms one last time. But that is yet another dream that will never be fulfilled. At the very least, I hoped to have something nice to look at. One last glimpse of beauty before my death. But my last sight in this world is ugly as all get out.
Life can be cruel. And now I wonder, if that’s all life is. Nothing but a cruel joke. I won’t sit here and say I’ve been perfect. I’m human, like anybody. But I tried to be a good man. In fact, it was my unwavering sense of morality that led me to the choices that have sealed my fate. I’ve done everything in my power to explain. To tell my tale, but forces outside of my control have misrepresented and twisted it to the point that now, it’s unrecognizable.
I’ve been made out to be a monster. But I have to believe, that if you knew my side of the story; if you were shown the whole truth, you’d be rootin’ for me to live. Or maybe I do deserve to die.
I’ll let you be the judge of that…
###
Ezra pulled off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. Vincent halted just behind him. The cool of the morning was beginning to fade and the heat of the afternoon would soon be upon them.
They had been up since just before dawn, hard at work. The early bird catches the worm. Or in this case, the gold. At least that was the hope of young prospectors such as themselves.
When tales of vast amounts of gold available to the common man had reached the East, Ezra and Vincent had joined the horde of desperate and hopeful migrants in the mad rush to reach out and capture the American dream.
To their dismay, all they had managed to gather in hand was sweat and dust. They had nothing to show for all their hard work except callouses, cuts and blisters. It had been this way for months. They rose before the sun with each new day – and set out eagerly in search of that almost tangible dream of the West.
The hope of a prosperous future; but this pursuit had led to disappointment time and again. Even so, the men would not allow this to discourage them, though each passing day had left them empty handed.
Today, it seemed, was no exception.
Ezra sighed with exasperation. "I say we head for the river and fill up our canteens. We’ve more than earned ourselves a little refreshment and while we’re there, we can change strategies for a while and do some panning."
Vincent nodded his agreement. As they moved toward their intended destination, the sun continued its steady glow, emanating waves of increasing temperature as the day stretched on. They felt the intense heat beating upon them continuously as they walked. Ezra turned to Vincent; his expression weary.
"What I wouldn’t give to own a horse." He pulled his hat from his head again, this time running his fingers through his chestnut hair as he breathed deeply. Then he ran his thumb and forefinger across his thick moustache. A mannerism he often performed, particularly when he was deep in thought.
He was tall and slim, with sharp blue eyes. Vincent was silent as he often was. He stood straight backed, his dark hair sticking out from under his hat. As rugged and stoic as the landscape around them. He was solid and dependable but sometimes not much for company. "Kind of like an old oak tree," Ezra thought with a smirk. Then again, he didn’t necessarily need to speak in order to qualify as good company.
"You know, if the foreman wasn’t so stingy, we could have one. They can afford to spare a few for us." Ezra intoned, sounding bitter.
At first, it seemed as if Vincent would not respond. Sometimes even when he did hear, he didn’t feel the need for acknowledgment in the form of verbal exchange, or any response in fact.
Over the years Ezra had become more accustomed to Vincent’s strange ways and had fine-tuned his ability to anticipate his old friend’s reaction. Despite this, it was still often difficult to tell.
"I agree it would be nice to have a horse, but it's ridiculous to think they owe us one. That was never a part of the deal."
Ezra shrugged. "Maybe not. But it sure would be nice. And consider how much it would speed up our progress. It wouldn’t just be in our own best interest; it would make our search a lot faster and give us a much higher chance of success."
He paused momentarily, scouting ahead as he continued to mull it over. "A good company would do everything they could to accommodate their workers and provide them with the proper tools for the job. Plus, it would be a great boon to morale. Lord knows that’s in short supply these days."
Vincent stared pensively, considering his argument. "I never really thought of it that way. You do make a good point, but still. We should be grateful for what we do have." At this, Ezra let out a low snort. "And what is it that we have besides sunburns and sores?" He asked, a hint of challenge in his voice.
Vincent smiled, not missing a beat. "We have the blessing of being employed and the opportunity to discover a great fortune. Few are as lucky as you and I."
Ezra couldn’t help but smile back.
"Nothing can dampen your spirits, can it brother?"
"Well, old friend, Like the good book says, be not discouraged."
Ezra gave a nod, "That it does." He squeezed the last drops of luke-warm water from his canteen. "I’ll tell yah, I’m sure looking forward to that fresh water."
"Likewise," Vincent said, as he watched Ezra hungrily lap up the last few drops. He stretched out his arm, offering his own canteen. "Here, have the rest of mine."
Ezra shook his head emphatically. "No, sir. I couldn’t. It won’t be long until we reach the river. Go ahead."
Vincent thrust the water toward Ezra with a nod. "Go on. I insist."
Ezra hesitated, looking at him for a long moment. Vincent held his arm steadily outstretched. Sensing that he would not take no for an answer, Ezra gratefully accepted the water and greedily consumed the remainder. "Thank you, brother." He said, passing it back.
"You’re welcome," Vincent said, placing it over his shoulder.
"You're as stubborn as a mule, you know." Ezra said.
"I may have heard that once or twice." Vincent returned casually. "I will admit. It would be great to have a beast of burden to carry these packs for us." He motioned to the pack on his back that held their rifles, ammo and other necessities.
"Don't you get it Vincent? We are the beasts of burden."
Vincent raised his eyebrows. He meant to counter Ezra's sentiment, but he wasn't sure he had a leg to stand on. "Hard to argue with that," he replied.
Sometime later, they arrived at the river. They heard its sound, a musical cacophony that announced its presence well before they could see it with their own eyes. It was a sweet song to their ears, one that instantly brought a smile to the lips. Especially on days like today.
They moved toward the water eagerly at first, but then remembered their better judgment. The wilderness had claimed the lives of lesser men too often to count and the second a man let down his guard was invariably the moment when tragedy would strike.
Vincent stopped just before reaching the river to keep watch and set his pack down. Relieved to be free of its weight momentarily. Ezra followed suit, dropping his pack as well. Vincent rolled his shoulders and stretched. Then turned and motioned for Ezra to move forward.
"Oh, no you don’t. Not this time. I already took the last of your water. You fill up first."
Vincent shook his head.
In response, Ezra made a move for his holster and paused dramatically with his fingers on the stock. "Fill up your canteen or I swear, I will shoot you dead."
Vincent couldn’t help but crack a smile. He lifted his hands in mock surrender and strode to the water's edge. He gathered his canteen, his hands still raised.
Ezra chuckled. "Go on git," he said in mock anger.
Vincent filled his canteen to capacity and took a long drink before moving to join Ezra.
"Is that as good as it looks?"
Vincent sighed, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "Better."
"Well, I better have some then."
He strode forward and crouched at the bank, filling his canteen, and watching as the cool liquid rippled and the river’s reflection returned a distorted image of the world around him.
There was a figure in the reflection that he couldn’t quite place. He squinted, attempting to get a better look. Then suddenly, it seemed to move. He realized with horror that there was something heading in his direction not far from his current position.
Its brown hulking mass danced at the edge of his vision. He stumbled back, haphazardly fumbling for his pistol. He cried out and cocked the colt, ready to fire. He continued to stumble, fell backward, and landed on his rear end with a splash. The icy water stole his breath, causing him to gasp sharply.
###
We live in a universe of order. A place of cause and effect. A place with rules and laws. Where on the surface there is chaos, one need only look deeper to find structure, intent, and purpose. There is a method to the madness, so to speak. Some might even call it, a system. Just Because you are not aware of something, does not mean it is not there. Humans, for the most part, are very rarely aware of anything outside of their extremely limited perception.
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They can perceive only a fraction of the world around them. Physical reality is infinitesimally small compared to the vastness of the universe. It is so difficult for them to recognize the greater picture of life. The greater purpose. The grand design. They perceive only the carnal and the mundane. In the grand tapestry of time, space, matter, and reality there is so much more to be discovered. Yet, the vast majority seemingly have no interest in these truths. They often seem so helpless, so fragile. And yet, they have an incredible capacity for determination and resilience. They can also be incredibly willful, stubborn, helpless, and blind.
Their capacity for emotion, for love, is divine. A glorious spark bestowed upon them by their Creator. Sadly, many of them reject the Creator outright. Many do not even acknowledge his existence. They go about their lives, never truly understanding the gravity of their brief time here, or the profound effect of their choices. We are often appalled at how little humanity as a whole, values these gifts. Even more troubling, is to witness so many of them use their precious gifts for nefarious purposes. Even we struggle to express the sorrow this brings. Both for us and for the Creator. Especially for the Creator. His sorrow is great at the destruction humanity has wrought. A sorrow so great, no words can express the exquisite and excruciation pain. Language is insufficient.
Staring into the dark heart of humanity can be utterly fascinating and deeply tragic. Yet, there is hope. For without hope, our work would be in vain. Though so many through their actions, stain the reputation of humanity, there are exceptions. Those who demonstrate the purpose and inherent nobility that was intended for -- and given to -- humanity. Though they may not recognize it; they were created for a divine purpose. As are we. It is our greatest hope that those we have been given charge over, will prove to be the exception. We will do everything in our power to see them succeed in their journey, but the end result is not in our hands. When wielded without wisdom, humanity’s greatest gift, is also their greatest downfall. A gift so great… and so terrible… that of free will.
In the eons of time, I’ve witnessed humanity reject redemption, hope, and salvation. Kicking and screaming, they desperately avoid facing the reality of their condition. Fighting with their last breath, to embrace their own destruction. This is all true, but I would be remiss not to mention that there are moments of greatness to be found in humanity. Fleeting though they may be. But we must emphasize, never of their own accord. When left to their own devices, humanity inevitable sinks into a state of utter depravity.
Those who rise above their corrupt nature, await a destiny beyond description. We see this potential in them. Even if they do not. We can see into the hearts and minds of humanity. Some of us far better than others. We know our duty. But understanding one’s duty and accomplishing it, are quite different indeed. It is true, we are not mortal. But even we have our limits. Yes, the rules, laws, and order of the universe, apply to us as well. Though not it the same way. While we have much greater knowledge, power, wisdom and ability, we also face a much greater challenge. At least in sheer power, if not in principle.
We convene to receive our assignment and assess that which is now our responsibility. These are the mortals to which we have been given charge. They each have their unique weaknesses and strengths. With the sight granted us, we see beyond the surface, to discern what others cannot. As we look upon these mortals, we are able to catch a glimpse of the weaves which make up the cosmic tapestry. We see briefly, the construct of their being, and the threads of their destiny.
Status: Mortal/Corrupted Status: Mortal/Corrupted Name: Ezra Holloway Name: Vincent McCleary Level: 10 Level: 10 Class: N/A Class: N/A Profession: Prospector Profession: Prospector Race: Human Race: Human HP: 300 HP: 320 MP: N/A MP: N/A Stamina: 15 Stamina: 15 Defense: 50 (+1) [.1 multiplier] Defense: 45 Attack: 25 (1-21) Attack: 25 (1-21) Stats Stats STR: 15 (1.5) [AD 0.5 %] STR: 15 (1.5) [AD 0.5 %] DEX: 18 [Dodge Chance 0.8%] DEX: 14 [ Dodge Chance 0.4] END: 15 [0.5 HP Regen] END: 15 [0.5 HP Regen] VIT: 14(400) [0.4 energy regen] VIT: 11 [0.1 energy regen] INT: 12(203) [0.2% Dice Rolls] INT: 12(203) [0.2% Dice Rolls] WIS: 10 [0.1 threat reduction/XP gain] WIS: 15 [0.5 threat reduction/XP gain] Free Stat Points: 0 Free Stat Points: 0 Titles: Journeyman Prospector Titles: Journeyman Prospector
Specialization N/A
Specialization N/A Hero Class ??? Hero Class ??? Special Ability ??? Special Ability ???
The road on which they travel is fraught with danger. And despite our great strength, preventing a mortal’s demise can be quite… challenging. Their free will is more often than not, the greatest hindrance to their progress. And to ours. Without it, our intervention would be much more prevalent and more freely and effectively applied. Mortals truly are their own worst enemies. We are vigilant. But even we… have our limits.