Rain is like the looked down upon god who really does more than most people give him credit for. Rain is like Hades, except not a total prick. When the clouds get dark and menacing, the sun hides and people used to think it meant evil. But once it started raining they would praise the gods for it, because water is life and without rain, nothing would live. Even lush places like this forest would die quickly without rain. Rivers would dry up and humans, like me, would die as well. This gives it perhaps more purpose than the sun does, but we cannot live without either. Today will not see any rain, however.
Perhaps I ought to reveal my own appearance rather than the appearance of everything around me. I am a man of many years, with a face that tells its own stories. My hair is medium length and snow white, but will probably grow quite long by the end of my final adventure. I do have a beard, which is also medium length and white. For some strange reason, I cannot seem to grow hair above my lip, so the beard is entirely from my chin and sideburns. My eyes, as I am told by many, are deep blue and are easy to get lost in. A scar of great importance to me goes across my cheek; perhaps I may tell you the story behind it, but not now. My clothes are dirty and ragged, my pants being brown and my shirt being a dull red. I have a medium build, well, medium for where I come from. My village lies far from here, but we spend our lives doing hard labor so even the small boys are fairly muscular for your city people. A claymore with a gemmed handle and sheath rests on my back as perhaps the only thing still fully intact on me. Oh! I forgot to mention that I do not wear shoes! My people are not known for our love of shoes, especially not me.
I can feel the rocks under my feet, but just barely. After all of my years walking barefoot, pain does not exist when you step on something sharp. Some men from our village could crush rocks with their feet. The path is rugged and seems rarely used. Very little men take the road less travelled; it is surprising that I find myself searching along it. Normally it is forbidden to leave the village alone, but none could stop the Chief from leaving. That is what you can call me, if you wish. I wouldn’t normally leave the village either, but these are dire times. My daughter, Autumn, disappeared from her bed one night. Her hair is auburn, and when the sunlight hits it in a certain way, it resembles fire. She was praised by the village for her beauty. She was my pride and joy after her mother died. Now I search the world for her. There was only one thing left behind and it lies in my hand, a religious symbol of some sort I believe. It is merely a curve with three lines going through it like a claw mark. Not a person in my village had any idea what it could be. I must find out, somehow.
A snapping branch in the woods to my left draws my attention in that direction. I feel eyes upon me and I draw my blade. “Care to dance?” I yell into the woods. I pocket the little black symbol and stare deep into the trees. Silence sings its song through the woods. There is no reply, not even a sign of an animal nearby. I shrug; acting like I actually think that there’s nothing there and keep walking down the long winding path. Very few men travel on this path, yet it seems that dangers of more used paths are here as well. And to think I’ve only just left my village. Autumn disappeared two nights ago. I slide the blade back into its sheath on my back. A shadow casts itself over me.
The sky turns dark like the night; there will be rain after all.
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Here's a little taste of a new, uh, let's call it a story. I feel that the story itself will go on quite long on its own so I figured I would post it in parts. But first, I had to post the beginning of it. As you could probably tell, this will be telling the story of someone I like to call the Chief. The Chief is a small village man whose daughter went missing two nights before the part you see above. The Chief is about to discover the secrets of a thought to be lost world. I invite you to join me in following this man in his adventure. I'm sure we'll have fun.
Until next time, Kuna Zero.
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