Metis was the Greek god of wisdom and or prudence
mètis was also the Greek word for a quality that combined wisdom and cunning, In an age of corrupt governments and unreliable media this qualities are becoming necessary this blog is designed to make a place that people can share thare wisdom and knowledge. A place to let those who are willing to find the truth.
“Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it”
Two men rode slowly over the hill. At first glance they looked ordinary enough, perhaps a noble men with a trusted servant or lackey out hunting late. But if for some reason someone was walking by and happened to make a closer examination they would see they were anything but normal. The first man looked to be in his late thirties and had plan ruff looking cloths. The short and thick almost chubby sword on his back would be useless in the primeval wooded country they rode through. And the apparently decretive blade with its acid etched sheath seemed a strange edition to the weather worn man. Otherwise he was armed with a guisarme. His tough hard skin spoke of a ruff life spent outdoors. Well scares both old and new told that his life had been a hard, dangerous one. And well he might once have been called hansom, his nose had been broken a few times too many until it almost made an s shape. And well the jaw still had much of the strength it once possessed it had set in to a hard grim line that left little room for good looks. But it wasn’t the face or the muscular frame or even the small foreboding horse he rode that made him seem worrisome. It was his deep steely gray eyes. The eyes seemed to look nowhere but see everything, not to concentrate on anything but to miss nothing. They seemed to say I've seen it all….and endured. The second man was dressed in classic fashion made of rich but strong and durable fabric. On his soft leather belt hung a slite variant on a formal sword of the (insert nations name here)’s court and unlike the one that was currently fashionable this one was a good sword for any circumstance. Even though both horses were well groomed the first mans was a lite brown, almost a faded look. Whereas his was darker and reddish, in fact it was almost redder then you could believe a horse could be. He looked down at his horse watching the beautiful sheen glisten in the failing light and remembered the first time he had laid eyes on him. His Father had taken one look and said “I don’t believe I’ll wast anytime or effort I’ll call you Flame.” he remembered thinking that was a wonderful name for his horse to be. And he grinned ruefully at the memory. The name had proved to be almost prophetic, the men who had helped train him and said he should rename him something less optimistic like “Volcano” or “Death on the run” but that terrible temper of his had finally been conquered and he had turned out to be the best horse he had ever seen. The man’s name was Anton, Eric Anton to be specific. Although he rather resented that first part.
As the two men rode, a man broke from the cover of some distant trees and galloped towards the two. He, upon reaching the two men who had halted their horses to see what the new man (possibly a messenger) wanted, knelt quickly, stood, and with his eyes respectfully lowered, said to Anton, "My lord, your father and his generals need your help. They, after seeing you off to Hamlington to arrange matters for the aid of General Karl, formed a battalion and left the hometown, Ferrellton, to meet and possibly fight with the encroaching enemy. Their plans were found out; they suspect a traitor, which will complicate things for this war; and they were met with much, much more resistance than they were figuring to have. In short, they are outnumbered, Sir. They sent me for help at the very last moment and, even as we speak, they are being slowly crushed under the mighty fist of General Kyle. In short, you are to drop your mission and, with all speed possible, make for the Field of Black Rocks to aid your father and your country." And, with that dramatic ending, he swept up onto his horse and gallumphed off. Anton smiled slightly to himself and muttered to himself, "'In short', huh? I'd hate to be around when that guy really lets himself go with the talking thing." The other man looked at him quizzically from under graying brows; Anton just shook his head. "Well, Eric," the other man, (I'm going to call the other man Sir Christopher, but we don't have to keep that name.) whose name was Sir Christopher, said,"we should do as yonder talkative fellow suggests and ride to your father's rescue. Good press to have a reputation of saving generals from humiliating defeats, you know." Anton sighed. He said, "I would go help my father even if would give me a BAD reputation.. Yes, yes, you're right. Though, it would've been nice to have been able to have secured that truce with General Karl. Ah well." He turned towards Christopher, "Where's the nearest town? I want to send a message home to tell my men to prepare and meet me three miles from the Field of Black Rocks." ( :We can change that name too, if someone can think of something else, that was just what was on the top of my head at the time: ) Christopher pointed southeast, "That way a few miles." He frowned, "At least, according to this stupid map it is." Eric grinned, "Well, last one there's a rotten egg!!" He kneed his horse on and broke into a steady gallop. Boy, that Flame could run!
Reviera stepped out of the hut door just as the sun began streaming over the trees. She held her hand to shade her eyes as she looked north. She sighed. "No sight of anything that way" she thought "I hope everyone is alright." She turned back, and picked up her pitchers, heading to the town's well. Her bare feet picked up the dry dust. There hadn't been much rain lately, and things were quite dry. Her blue linen dress blew about her ankles in the gentle breeze. "What a glorious day to be alive. God's creation is so beautiful!" she thought. She heard a voice calling her name... "Reviera! Reviera!" She turned with a smile "Hello, Anna! How are you today?" "I'm good" responded Anna,with her vibrant smile. Though Reviera was 17 and Anna was only 9, they were fast friends. They both loved adventure, and Reviera was glad for a friend as lighthearted as she. "Will you be busy today, Reviera?" Anna asked. Reviera laughed "Am I ever NOT supposed to be busy?" Anna joined her laughing. "Well, I was hoping we could go to the meadows today..." "Ah! I see!" said Reviera "And what would you suggest we do once we get to the meadows?" she teased. "You mean we can?!" squealed Anna. Reviera smiled. "I'll see if Mistress Mary will let me off this afternoon. Mending hasn't been in as much demand since our boys left for the war... And we don't have as much washing to do either. I'll meet you there at 3:00 if I can." Anna looked down. "Ok." she said, swallowing hard.They had reached the well, and Reviera paused to look at Anna. "Anna? Are you all right?" Anna nodded, but Reviera could see the tears forming in her eyes. She sighed. It was hard for all of them with their brothers and fathers gone. Not that it mattered to her. She had no family here... And as far as anyone knew, she had none at all. She lived with Mistress Mary, and Anna and her were the closest thing she had to family. She bent down and looked into Anna's eyes. "You're missing Ben, aren't you?" Anna nodded, the tears that were pooling in her eyes spilling over. She rubbed them away with her dusty hands, leaving a smudge of dirt on her face. Riviera bent down and hugged her. What could she say? No words seemed good enough to help, and after all, she didn't really understand. She'd never had a family to miss. "Jesus, please comfort her, and keep her brother safe." she prayed.
Two men rode slowly over the hill. At first glance they looked ordinary enough, perhaps a noble men with a trusted servant or lackey out hunting late. But if for some reason someone was walking by and happened to make a closer examination they would see they were anything but normal. The first man looked to be in his late thirties and had plan ruff looking cloths. The short and thick almost chubby sword on his back would be useless in the primeval wooded country they rode through. And the apparently decretive blade with its acid etched sheath seemed a strange edition to the weather worn man. Otherwise he was armed with a guisarme. His tough hard skin spoke of a ruff life spent outdoors. Well scares both old and new told that his life had been a hard, dangerous one. And well he might once have been called hansom, his nose had been broken a few times too many until it almost made an s shape. And well the jaw still had much of the strength it once possessed it had set in to a hard grim line that left little room for good looks. But it wasn’t the face or the muscular frame or even the small foreboding horse he rode that made him seem worrisome. It was his deep steely gray eyes. The eyes seemed to look nowhere but see everything, not to concentrate on anything but to miss nothing. They seemed to say I've seen it all….and endured.
ReplyDeleteThe second man was dressed in classic fashion made of rich but strong and durable fabric. On his soft leather belt hung a slite variant on a formal sword of the (insert nations name here)’s court and unlike the one that was currently fashionable this one was a good sword for any circumstance. Even though both horses were well groomed the first mans was a lite brown, almost a faded look. Whereas his was darker and reddish, in fact it was almost redder then you could believe a horse could be. He looked down at his horse watching the beautiful sheen glisten in the failing light and remembered the first time he had laid eyes on him. His Father had taken one look and said “I don’t believe I’ll wast anytime or effort I’ll call you Flame.” he remembered thinking that was a wonderful name for his horse to be. And he grinned ruefully at the memory. The name had proved to be almost prophetic, the men who had helped train him and said he should rename him something less optimistic like “Volcano” or “Death on the run” but that terrible temper of his had finally been conquered and he had turned out to be the best horse he had ever seen. The man’s name was Anton, Eric Anton to be specific. Although he rather resented that first part.
As the two men rode, a man broke from the cover of some
ReplyDeletedistant trees and galloped towards the two. He, upon reaching the two men who
had halted their horses to see what the new man (possibly a messenger) wanted,
knelt quickly, stood, and with his eyes respectfully lowered, said to Anton,
"My lord, your father and his generals need your help. They, after seeing
you off to Hamlington to arrange matters for the aid of General Karl, formed a
battalion and left the hometown, Ferrellton, to meet and possibly fight with
the encroaching enemy. Their plans were found out; they suspect a traitor,
which will complicate things for this war; and they were met with much, much
more resistance than they were figuring to have. In short, they are
outnumbered, Sir. They sent me for help at the very last moment and, even as we
speak, they are being slowly crushed under the mighty fist of General Kyle. In
short, you are to drop your mission and, with all speed possible, make for the
Field of Black Rocks to aid your father and your country." And, with that
dramatic ending, he swept up onto his horse and gallumphed off.
Anton smiled slightly to himself and muttered to himself,
"'In short', huh? I'd hate to be around when that guy really lets
himself go with the talking thing." The other man looked at him quizzically from under graying brows; Anton just
shook his head.
"Well, Eric," the other man, (I'm going to call the other man Sir Christopher, but we don't have to keep that name.) whose name was Sir Christopher, said,"we should do as yonder talkative fellow suggests and ride to your father's rescue. Good press to have a reputation of saving generals from humiliating defeats, you know."
Anton sighed.
He said, "I would go help my father even if would give me a BAD reputation.. Yes, yes, you're right. Though, it would've been nice to have been able to have secured that truce with General Karl. Ah well." He turned towards Christopher, "Where's the nearest town? I want to send a message home to tell my men to prepare and meet me three miles from the Field of Black Rocks." ( :We can change that name too, if someone can think of something else, that was just what was on the top of my head at the time: ) Christopher pointed southeast,
"That way a few miles." He frowned, "At least, according to this stupid map it is."
Eric grinned, "Well, last one there's a rotten egg!!" He kneed his horse on and broke into a steady gallop. Boy, that Flame could run!
Reviera stepped out of the hut door just as the sun began streaming over the trees. She held her hand to shade her eyes as she looked north. She sighed. "No sight of anything that way" she thought "I hope everyone is alright." She turned back, and picked up her pitchers, heading to the town's well. Her bare feet picked up the dry dust. There hadn't been much rain lately, and things were quite dry. Her blue linen dress blew about her ankles in the gentle breeze. "What a glorious day to be alive. God's creation is so beautiful!" she thought. She heard a voice calling her name...
ReplyDelete"Reviera! Reviera!" She turned with a smile
"Hello, Anna! How are you today?"
"I'm good" responded Anna,with her vibrant smile. Though Reviera was 17 and Anna was only 9, they were fast friends. They both loved adventure, and Reviera was glad for a friend as lighthearted as she.
"Will you be busy today, Reviera?" Anna asked.
Reviera laughed "Am I ever NOT supposed to be busy?" Anna joined her laughing. "Well, I was hoping we could go to the meadows today..."
"Ah! I see!" said Reviera "And what would you suggest we do once we get to the meadows?" she teased.
"You mean we can?!" squealed Anna.
Reviera smiled. "I'll see if Mistress Mary will let me off this afternoon. Mending hasn't been in as much demand since our boys left for the war... And we don't have as much washing to do either. I'll meet you there at 3:00 if I can."
Anna looked down. "Ok." she said, swallowing hard.They had reached the well, and Reviera paused to look at Anna.
"Anna? Are you all right?"
Anna nodded, but Reviera could see the tears forming in her eyes. She sighed. It was hard for all of them with their brothers and fathers gone. Not that it mattered to her. She had no family here... And as far as anyone knew, she had none at all. She lived with Mistress Mary, and Anna and her were the closest thing she had to family. She bent down and looked into Anna's eyes.
"You're missing Ben, aren't you?"
Anna nodded, the tears that were pooling in her eyes spilling over. She rubbed them away with her dusty hands, leaving a smudge of dirt on her face. Riviera bent down and hugged her. What could she say? No words seemed good enough to help, and after all, she didn't really understand. She'd never had a family to miss. "Jesus, please comfort her, and keep her brother safe." she prayed.