It was a quiet night on Baldur's Gate, a female tiefling with a bandage over her head sat by the fire, head full of thoughts.
After arriving to this area, I am started to notice patterns, within cities especially, the way things operate and work and what gets the show running.
Everyone is looking for their place in the world , the most obvious path is what you have at your disposal, the farmer has land, the guard a place to protect and a ruler subjects to rule.
Just like in nature where everything and everyone has a place, civilization always finds a way to contradict it. I look around and see many people moving their feet and apparently getting somewhere but instead it happens that walking in circles won't let you find new places. I see flags and banners being waved into the air for many causes, but it all ends in the same place, there's nothing to it that would tell me that is worth it to live for someone else.
To live for someone else's cause.
Such a waste of life, time, and energy. But there's also Choice, the freedom of choice to serve, now that's different, a sacrifice that only the strongest souls undertake, perhaps I hold a hidden admiration for those who are able to choose a path of freedom and happiness for themselves and instead pick the eternal thankless sacrifice of duty, two sides of the same coin I've seen, the experienced and wise; and then the young and fanatical.
One of them has lived for a long time, fought countless battles, and done so many sacrifices, on the other side someone who memorized word by word, but there's a wisdom that comes with time, the wisdom of ages that cannot be replaced. And from that wisdom comes questions, questions of why and how then questions of rules and rulers.
Then perhaps there's much that I fail to understand because I am not wearing the same boots as the librarian, the knight, and the squire.
It doesn't even matter if I understand or not, because I don't need to, their fates are their own, tied somewhere while mine's elsewhere, that eternal elsewhere, that place I am always going towards but never reach, because then there I would be left without purpose.
Sometimes I wish I had been born with a beard instead of horns, I see the dwarves, how close they are to each other, their friendship solid as the stone their halls are made of and prowess in battle that's just unrivaled, then I would have a family, I wouldn't need to travel so much and just settle down, but then, would I get bored? Would I long for the fresh air of the meadows and forests, the thrill of the hunt? Who knows, maybe one day I will know how it feels.
