A Missive from Leatherfoot

By: Naught Posted on: June 23, 2011

Troglodytes! Come out from your caves into the sunlight. Spill no more wax as
you pore over moldy tomes during the long night. Were I a monk I would lock
your mind and throw you out of doors. A turtle may discover great truths within
his shell, yet he must expose his soft neck to share them.

Pack your journal and some ink, surely, but carry also your pipe and hat. At
first, stick to the well-used roads and tracks. Keep your third eye peeled for
anyone wishing to cause mischief. You have let your minds atrophy by staying
indoors, while those who walk the streets have lessons to teach. Your writing
rings false because you have not roamed the wild territories of Sapience in so
many months.

You cannot speak of excess until you have walked barefoot through Ashtan after a
celebration, when the streets are littered with broken glass and the smoldering
remains of Tarot cards. Let your eyes not linger too long on the war witch if
she does not first pinch your rump!

Scholars, you won't understand fear until you stand before the leviathan's lair,
amongst the piles of bucklers and broadswords dropped in panic at his call. The
path unfolds before your feet, you need not traverse it alone, but you must walk
if you wish to know what it is to live.

You haven't truly smiled until you've stood in the graffiti-brightened streets
of Delos and watched a friend slip on a banana peel. You write of the great men
and women of history? Examine the artefacts they wielded in this city, and watch
the sweat pour off the combatants in the Matsuhama arena.

Though you may be attuned to the realm of Thoth, and sense when a warrior leaves
his mortal coil, you have not seen grisly death unless you've watched the armies
of Light and Evil scrambling to recover the corpses of the fallen through the
tumult. The scathing words that accompany these forays are worth penning down
if you can find a place to sit and observe the battle amongst the debris and
torched buildings.

Do not allow my letter to frighten you from the world. Not everything is
conflict, my erudite friends. Observe the bards as they engage in their
wordplay and swordplay, as they clash and riposte. Wander the markets to
discover the exotic fashions and fare in the cities. Out in the clear air you
will discover more writing and thoughts than your bookcase can offer. The
philosophers of Sapience can only offer debate if you leave your cosy homes!

What saddens me most of all is that you don't know the joy and elation of
returning home with a scar or a story to tell. Your love and appreciation of
the library will grow in your absence, but know that you cannot see the world
with a page in front of your eyes...

I must leave you on this note--the captain is calling all hands above-decks to
begin the journey home. May this bird find you in good health. The path awaits
your steps.