The Ramblings and Works of an Elderly Young Man

I wrote this up quick as a response to someone’s post about relationships being lost in the convenience of technology. I thought I’d share it here.

When things started happening online many years ago, like IRC and Yahoo chat, people were able to be at a masquerade party online when they wanted to be. The disconnect of the real world was easy and you could just tell people how you felt about things without issue. As time wore on, the internet and socializing became more integrated into our lives, and as a result, the line between contact and online was blurred. Now, chivalry seems lost on social networking and texting; how primitive we’ve become in our ability to text and chat, but not be able to communicate with our eyes, mouths and ears– to see someone’s body language, to hear the inflection in their voice, and to feel someone in your arms when they say I love you, and it’s all through text.

I refuse to let something like personable interaction die. I was asocial from the get go, but I will not talk to someone about something personal through a text message, a phone conversation or otherwise unless it is completely unavoidable and it cannot wait. Why are all of these things, like conversations, arguments, feelings, love, insecurity, jealousy, trust and intimacy lost on people anymore? Because people define what their love is by a relationship status on Facebook. Because convenience has rid us of intimacy, and has robbed us of chivalry.

I won’t change my ways. And I hope others reading this don’t, either.

Relman woke up refreshed the next morning, having recovered from the exhaustion night prior. Though light snow was on the ground, the clouds were still thick above the trees. Between that and the treeline itself, it was considerably warm. Relman looked around; he seemed to be the first awake, though the others were snoring. He looked over to where Sigi had sat himself the night prior, and saw him looking north. The next thing he noticed was that there was no snow around him, as if he had displaced his own heat to keep it from landing. Read more

The men had continued riding forward, staying completely silent. All of them had seen corpses before; even some of them had slain men. But what concerned them is that a tribesman, whose voracity in combat was known but their forethought was lacking, had smashed their head into a tree until they died. No man did that. None of them had even heard of such a thing. In their minds, they began speculating about what could have driven him to do so. How far had he been running? Where did he come from? Were they due to face the same fate? Read more

While I was trekking around southern Germany, I decided to get a snapshot of the town I was in and summarize my trip.

The light storm from the night prior had left enough element in the ground to cause fog to roll over the field when the sun began to rise the next morning. Some coughing around camp, signifying a few coming out of slumber, and the feint smell of tired campfires filled the air. Some of the men had already begun packing up items onto their horses. Though they had made good time yesterday, they had further to go yet. As Relman woke, he saw Sigi standing in the same place as the night prior. Slightly bewildered, he also began to gather himself and get out of his makeshift bed. Read more

The next morning yielded overcast clouds, but they weren’t dark enough to warn of snow or rain. The countryside, and the surrounding foothills, kept the snow from the few nights prior, so the earth offered its own warmth to the sixteen men riding out north of Lord Rothgard’s castle. The provisions had been placed between most of the horses, and little was kept in terms of weapons and armor, spare for what every man would carry day-to-day. The horses walked at an easy pace while scaling the mountain. If things became hairy at any point later on, they wanted their horses in prime condition to leave as quickly as possible. The Goron didn’t relent, and they moved faster than man. But they would not get to the tribelands for a few days time at this pace. Read more

Fifteen men, including Thom and Relman, sat around the hall table in the keep. They had been chosen by proxy, and were awaiting the arrival of Sigi and Rothgard. Smalltalk, with occasional laughter, was around the great table, which had been lined with mead. No food had been placed, at least not as of yet. The hall, made of stone and arched supports, echoed gently as there were thick tapestries over the windows to help absorb the sound. Fires roared on either side of the halls, keeping it warm despite the onset of a clear, cold night. On a few of the walls hung hunting trophies, but the most prominent item was the banner that hung at the northern fireplace, depicting the coat of arms for the keep.

A door in the corner opened, and Rothgard walked through, followed by Sigi, bearing his black clothes and the large sword on his back. As the Lord went to sit at the head of the table, Sigi rested his sword near the hearth, going to stand by a fire while Rothgard looked over the men gathered. Read more

Sigi sat at the tavern again, eating his second breakfast while others in the tavern sat in complete silence. No one was there from the night prior, when Sigi had first arrived. Other people sat in silence, watching him. The word of his arrival, and who he was, had spread through the keep quickly. Their eyes didn’t bother him; he simply bided his time. Read more

The harsh weather had relented from the night prior, revealing a timberline outside the castle walls, and a clear day out east, where the cliffs gave way to the forest that Sigi had tracked earlier. A few of the workers were up early, the goats were out of their pens, moving to shake off the cold that was still biting. Though the winds of winter had passed, the chill of it remained. As the sun peaked out over the treetops to give some warmth to the small courtyard, the Lord of the near-fortress had studied it a bit more briefly before finishing his morning meal.

A few pounds of a fist came to his heavy door. He set down the goat milk that he had taken a few sips of. “What is it?”

“There’s a man here to see you, m’Lord. He stayed the night last night at the inn down near the gate.” This immediately raised flags with him. No one came during the winter months. And last night was particularly harsh. And then he felt it… this presence at the door. Goosebumps raised the hair on the back of his neck. He knew. Read more

It’s nowhere near perfect, and I wish I had better equipment to do this with. But I’ll take what I can get. It was the most memorable experience of my life, and I am glad I did it.

The German Trip from Reiter S on Vimeo.