Wednesday, November 7, 2007
A question for the Darkman
Again Glok leaps off his log and waddles over to the Darkman. With each of his step he shifts all of his weight from one bowl-legged leg to the other. Even though his gait and posture force his head to swing side to side, his eyes remain fast on the Darkman. When Glok is within his own arms distance from the Darkman, he takes a minute to inspect the Darksman's face and skin. Looking as though he is tempted to poke and pinch, Glok only twists his head as he examines the Darkman's body more closely. With a quick snap of his attention and eyes, Glok looks directly up into the eyes of the Darkman and asks, "How many years you have?" Pausing for an answer, Glok's eyes go back to the Darkman's body with a confused look, but just for a second. Quickly returning to the Darkman's eyes, Glok waits for a response.
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The Dark Man grows somber. From his meditative state sitting upon the ground, he raises his head only to lock gazes with Glok. It is difficult not to look away but the little goblin bares through it, his eyes watering at the effort.
"My time in the world will be brief... As I have explained before. The names written upon me are the names of those whom I must help leave the world. The last name on this list... It is my own. I will see my time coming, but I will not be fearful, and I will go peaceably into the arms of Wee Jas."
Glok winces, realizing that the Dark Man had interpreted the question in the most unimaginable way. Everyone who overhears cannot help but wonder to themselves: "How would I live my life if I had an hourglass strapped to my chest meting out my final years in grains of sand."
The wind grows colder and despite the group being together, they all begin to feel isolated and alone.
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