Me as anyone else, I'm getting older and I've left behind little by little something that I've always liked: the videogames. In my heart I'm still playing something, but I'm not patient anymore to play games on my pc. So I've decided to write a little novel that has roots in the role playing games. Also I like ambiental music and I'm trying to combine the story with the music and I'm uploading by time to time a clip that inspires the story. But this is not all. I'm trying to make the story interactive, just like a game, and I found a simple way to have it working. You can find the rules on the right.

Thursday, February 7, 2008

(IV) Pariah

I desperately need to rest. I am close to the migrating group. In two days I will catch them. My problem is that there is a small group which stands between us. They travel at about half of hour of walking in the front of me and they move slowly and with lots of stops. They slow me down and I’m still expecting changes on the road or on their behavior to see which should be my best move. I can’t make a detour. At the right is the river; at the left is this large cliff which will just kill my feet.
First time when I’ve seen them was last night before the dark. Actually the dog was acting strange and I become alerted. I’ve made a stop and I double checked the footsteps, the surrounding trees, and the riverside and finally after I’ve passed the corner of a hill I’ve seen a campfire. I got close and I watched the people around it carefully. There were three people in this small group. One was taking care of the fire, one was cutting something, probably some food, and the last man was standing on a trunk while speaking to his mates. The man speaking was trying to explain something thinking after his gestures. His long beard was shaking while he was talking. The man who was throwing woods on the fire has a blonde long hair and seems to be the tallest among them. I was careful with them because I believed that they are either members of the migrating group, either the hunters of that group. My first think was to check if there aren’t other people from their group in their vicinity. After that I’ve checked if they have athletics body. They have. That means that I have to be careful further on. After about two hours of watching, one of them leaved at about 150 steps from the others and collected something from the bushes, an animal probably. The ease that the animal was collected makes me believe that they had a trap and there could be more traps. So I couldn’t get too close to analyze more. Last night I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t make a fire; I was risking to be seen. Without fire, the cold got into my every bone till this morning.

Today I walked behind them, still analyzing and looking for a detour. I have to decide if I will get in touch with them. I didn’t eat too much in the last two days; I haven’t sleep and the night that approaches looks to be even colder. Here is also a higher altitude. But I have to get in contact with them before the dark; otherwise they may consider me hostile. In the last two days my only food was from the pine cones. I’ve managed to gather juice enough to fill the can made by the “smith”. My buddy, “Oldie” didn’t have to say anything about the food, but it surely understood the situation. For six days of walking most our resources of energy was this juice of pine cone, a few fishes and some bread left from home. I will hurry a bit and I will get in contact with them. Maybe they know more about the migrating group. If they are trails of the migrating group, it should be useful to travel with them. I’ve been rushed enough till now; the migrating group is not far, so I can take it easy. I am getting close to them. They’ve camped and now they are collecting branches for the campfire. My old dog is walking a few steps in front of me and it doesn’t seem to be angry at all. They’ve seen me. They didn’t hold their activity; the one with long hair is starting the fire again and the long beard one is laughing at the others. The last one seems to have appetite for talking. This is a good sign; a person who speaks a lot tells lots of things that shouldn’t be said. “You need help to start the fire?” I’ve asked the long hair one. “If you have some thatch, you can help. Are you interested in joining us at the campfire?”


After a few hours of chatting I got some answers finally. The small group of three is not walking together with the migrating group. They’ve encountered the migrating group a few weeks ago. Lots of people from their village joined the people that were passing near their homes. The migrating group had camped a night near their homes, but it was enough to convince some people to leave their home and run as soon they’ve managed with the others.While traveling, the group got numerous little by little and now is about two thousand souls who walk through the mountains. I think that is a mistake; is not safe to go in a campaign when the winter is so close. If they are heading for the cave, they should be aware that is not enough room for all of them. Maybe there is enough space in the cave for all, but they can start the fire only where is an entrance; otherwise the smoke from campfires would suffocate a part of them. I’m sitting here, looking at the moon and trying to get some sleep. After talking with these three guys I think I can say that they are not a danger at all. They drink more then average people, but they don’t get drunk. Here, at a few steps by the river, in the middle of the mountains is colder then other places and the alcohol doesn’t effects your reality sense. In fact it warms you and moves your blood. They’ve tried to join the migrating group, but they were refused several times because they had some disputes about the actions of the group. They, the “pariah”, as they have been called, said that the people should stick together, but without going anywhere. The leader of the migrating group says that they need to go as far as they can, preferably to get to the cave.

The “pariah” explained to me the reason of this migration. It started when a few people found an old chunk of paper that represented a man, a dog, a map, a cave and some text. The text says that a person wants to lead them to death. After this discovery the people didn’t talked with anyone about this, but they organized them selves into a small expedition group with the purpose of checking if it really exist such a cave. While on the road to the north, they’ve encountered other people who knew about that chunk of paper and without any negotiation the group was getting numerous each day.

Let’s see how the situation right now is. There is the migrating group, of about 2000 people, which is in a state of some mysticism, mass madness or whatever that is. On other hand is this small ‘pariah’ group which would join the migrating group, but they are not in the same state of mind as the other group. And finally there is me, who am investigating all this. I’m feeling peculiar about that chunk of paper that moved all these people. It looks like it represents me and I don’t feel like being of any importance as long I’m a, let’s say, ‘neutral’ acting person. I’ve noted so far on my own chunk of paper some important points in my expedition so far.Me and the group of three, decided to travel together. I’ve kept the herbs out of them so far. I didn’t want to intimidate them so far, but I have to test it on them. Now I’ll watch the fire till I’ll fall asleep.



When things looks so familiar and we get bored of doing same things over and over again, it happens something that we don’t expect. Same thing is repeating endless, but in different ways and we are just struggling to repeat that thing. Its just a paradox that we don’t realize; its like we are becoming a machine and we lose our selves on behalf of repeating things. Repeating things it becomes our main purpose.