Black as pitch

Remove all ads!

a fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi

Consider for a moment your life. Are you the type who is moronically happy with his life, never questioning why things are the way they are? Do you obey what rules are set before you, never wondering who made them and why? Are you the exact product that society has hoped it could force your mold to produce?
Or are you an outsider?
Always walking in the shadow cast by the masses passing. Always watching them with detached fascination, the light that you see never seeming to brighten their vision, or even illuminating their face? Have you ever wondered how they can live the lives they do?

As a young man, I passed a graveyard. As I passed along the paths of inscribed tombs a thought touched upon me, I had no idea who these people were. They had lived their lives, good or bad, and passed away. They may have left something to their children to mark their brief stay in this realm, or maybe not. And here they layed before me, the names striking no chord of rememberance within me, no mulling over events of their life I had heard of. And it made an impression on me.
They lived their lives in obscurity and mediocrity.
They ate what was set before them and obeyed what they were told.
They accepted their lot in life.
I would do none of this.
We are all going to die someday. And in the end, when some stranger passes by your tomb, will he have heard of you? Or will you pass into infinity, never a trace of your passing to be found?
This is the wolf who chases us- this spector of death. He chases and he hounds us, never losing our scent, never getting off track. His nose is true, and his instincts are tuned. And he drives us, herds us, into our end. It waits for you as you run from him in the dark. And you have no idea how far the edge of that precipice is in front of you. It could be 10 miles, it could be 10 feet. But you can never stop running, for to stop means to be eaten alive.
And so you have only this moment - this heavy moment that you live in. And so does your neighbor. He runs beside you, as does your father and mother- your employer and your spouse. They all run from the wolf that pursues, and run until they find no more earth beneath their feet and they fall into oblivion. And yet you try to accomodate them in their run. You bow and cater to them , seeking to cause their run to be the way they wish it. And who has catered to you? Who has tended your wounds, or dampened your fevered brow? The idiocy is amazing.
YOU are the one who runs, YOU are the only one that this race matters to in the end. This life is about no one else except you. For to stop and tend to another runner is to leave yourself open to the terrible jaws that await behind you. You must live every second of every day to it's fullest. Every breath must count, every stride be measured.
In this light, we sit and watch those who run. For the run is only frightening when the path before you is obscured by the shadow of ignorance within. We have found the light that holds the wolf at bay. We refuse to run in the blackness of conformity. We see the truth of the race and the weakness of those who are herded. And we despise them for that weakness.
There is no room for mediocrity in a life as short as our own.
There is no room to bow to the wishes of the petty tyrants of our lives.
There is only room for self.
The decision must be made to be the one who breaks from the pack. To never accept their limitations for your life. To cast off the bonds of religion and conscience that man has yoked you with. To not accept their control over you. To rip off the bit that they have placed in your mouth and tear them to pieces for the attempt.
For you are a god indeed this day if you can do so.
There are those who have cast off the restraint and see things in true light. We watch as the simpletons run, and we laugh at their blindness. We stand above them, and behind them. We push them to run faster, or trip them to feed the wolf who pursues. We have a heart as black as pitch, for we know that only in this have we salvation. Only in the elimination of all restraint do we find our destiny. Only when we are above the catle can we see beyond the others.
We are the Dies Irae.
Walk among us.

 

Just. One. Word. Wow.

 

Just one comment : shouldn't that be cattle in the end ?

No, seriously, excellent piece of work there, Bain Croix. Bravo!

 

We tend to others, so that they may tend to us in return. Egoistic? Yes. The point is to be aware of this. Then you are not cattle.

ooc: nice work there. you almost tempted me

 

"We tend to others, so that they may tend to us in return. Egoistic? Yes. The point is to be aware of this. Then you are not cattle."

In the great blind race towards the precipace and away from the wolf, you knowingly tend to others in the hope that they will tend to you. And you believe this makes you more than cattle?
How amusing.
If you are in the race at all you are cattle.
As you look upon a herd, and one nudges the other- or the calf dances around it's mother, does this make them cease to be cattle?
No.
They are simply making the best of the pathetic state of their lives.
You can be good cattle.
I will not begrudge you this.
There are those who want more than this, who wish to step out of that race totally. If you wish to follow the herd, so be it.
Others want more than just the approval of fellow cows.

 

A point you seem to miss, my dark friend. Life itsself is but a race. And all you are allowed to do is change the direction you run. In that, we are all but cattles of the gods. Including you.

ps: lol i feel like a cow now

 

I had a dream once.
In this dream, I saw a river. Down the river floated flotsam and jetsam, trees and branches and garbage from the side or dredged up from the bottom. It must have been time for the spring floods.
As I watched, I saw people floating down as well. They would bob up and down as they made their way down river. Occasionally, one would find his feet touching bottom. When this happened, he would push against the bottom with all his might. He would rocket up out of the water, but only high enough that his waist was exposed.
All of the others would point and yell their approval. You could hear the wet slaps of their hands as they clapped for those who jumped.
And I stood on the side of the bank and watched it all.
And I realized the truth of the dream.
All of them were caught up in the same mindset. Even when one rose above the position of his peers, he would gain their acclaim, but he was still in the river.
As are you.

 

Fool that you are, you have not realized the full truth of that vision.

For the river is the great River of Time, and no mortal can escape it. Dive down if you wish. Swim upstream, cross-stream, or downstream, with others or without them. It makes no difference, for none but the immortals can reach the riverbank and stand firm on the dry ground.

 

Well ok, i'm now depressed, what am i a cow, sheep or Salmon i'm confused!.

Nice story and it saddens me to know i am, but nothing within the fabric of time, but i will be amaizingly rich with the release of my net internet games console, so i will sow my own fabric of time, and i will have a tomb cast in Gold, now if you dont mind i'm going to try to get happy again.

p.s lay off of the writing pills, there bad for the wrist...ed

 

If you haven't already heard, Bain is the reincarnation of our old pal J'Kin. Nice to see you spamming our boards again . Check out Roleplay Corner while you're here - online gaming with multiple DMs and players can work with the right DMs.

 

The meek will inherit.
Ever stood in a field full of cattle... You're outnumbered !

 

Is it just me, or does that sound like the perfect for a faction/guild in a NWN world? This may be something worth persuing.

 

If you mean Bain Croix, you are on the right track. He is part of an evil guild. (Some would say "The" evil guild).

If you mean "The meek will inherit" I am afraid that, unless it were an army, Bain Croix and his Blackguards would annihilate the meek.

Linael of the mists

 

This reference probably won't win me any popularity, but I must...

Linael, you've obviously never been to the Cow Level in Diablo II.

 

Oooh, Don't mention the Cow-King.
I still have nightmares.
They were, like, Tripping spaced out Evil cows though.

We would be, like, Honest RP'ing NG/LG/CG cows.

Get your point though.
(Maybe Bain would save/exit to avoid the PK)