Story: In which our hero finds out what he's done

Our hero looked out, to see what he'd done
He surveyed the world, and saw it not as one
For all the hero's good intentions in actions
They'd all had an equal and opposite reaction

Be elevating one side, helping on his way
His absence had led the other side to decay
Sometimes that's the way of life and light
With nothing wrong, there'd be nothing right

Our hero was shown what each action had done
How each task had helped and hurt someone
How our hero was the sinner and the saviour, the one who set the sails
This world is one of balance, and he charted the course on these scales

Oh hero, our hero, oh what have you done?
Oh hero, our hero, this can't be undone.
Though he knew it was necessary, when his full actions he realised
Our noble, strong hero? He broke down and he cried.

Story: In which a tale is told

Story: In which our story has a Prologue

There are a lot of tales in this world.
But not that many actually worth listening to,
And far fewer worth retelling.
Particularly for those whose business it is to do so.

Myself, I knew a tale or two I think you'd retell.
But which one, which one to choose?
Hmm, I apologise, but a few seconds are needed.
The choice of which story to allow to the world is not one to take lightly.

Let's see. I can't tell that one. Not if you want to sleep tonight
And *this* one? 
No. The wounds haven't yet healed.
But, wait, this story right here? Hmm.

I guess I could. But you must promise to be careful with it
Now, get yourself comfortable.
Because, this world right now is to be on
In which a story is told.

 

Story: In which we meet our hero

Now once a upon a time but many more times too
There lived a hero, let me introduce him to you
He stands, strong and blond and 6 foot 2.
An image of perfection, Yes, I hate him too.

Yet you can't hate him too long, he's everyone's friend
You, like everyone, will come to love him in the end
After all, he's just so easy to comprehend
You know what he'll do, on that you can depend

Sometimes, just sometimes, he'll be his own man
He'll divert radically from the well-thought out plan
And when he does that, be as far away as you can
Unless you enjoy a ride in a nice, black, sedan

However, he doesn't know his strength, he has never been tested
As he has never been in battle, he has never been bested
But he's ready for the fight - after all, his whole life he's been rested
So listen up, because his story is one in which it's worth being invested

 

Story: In which the world is set

Now let me describe the world in which our hero dwells
Lest you try to build it yourself, and fill it with the wrong smells
When telling a story, it's important to set the scene right
I'm about to put whole world in your head, so close your eyes and hold on tight

For this world is simply a world of two halves
Radically opposed, connected once and then no more paths
For two sides so opposed, the existence of the path is peculiar indeed
Neither goes near the other, save the house in the middle, for which our hero holds the deed

To the left of our hero's front door,
Lies chaos incarnate and more
To the right lies order, and an egalitarian town
Where all peoples are equal and none hold a crown

Both sides exist in harmony, but know well of this land
It is a dangerous business to interfere with what you don't understand
Our hero, for obvious reasons, has always stayed on the right
At least, until he lay down his head to rest tonight...

 

Story: In which our hero dreams

Our hero sleeps quickly, without needing sedating
He needs sleep. And if there's something needs doing there's no point in waiting
He dreams of his own world, but with one small change
As a voice from the wilderness comes into range

"Dear hero, oh hero, we need your assistance
But only if you are strong - this job requires persistence
And bravery too, you need to step where you've not before
Turn the other direction as you walk through your door

And when there, you'll come across 3 tasks needing done
What they are I cannot say, but you must do each one
It wont be easy. But I'll guide you where I can
For this task may be too much for just one man

You must restore balance to this distorted place
Now go, and find what dangers you will face."
Not sure if he was dreaming, it was groggily our hero awoke this night
He grabbed his satchel and left. And, for the first time, did not turn right.

 

Story: In which our hero has something (finally) happen to him

Barely had our hero crossed the threshold of the other half
Did he hear a different voice, this one with a maniacal laugh
"Yo boy, you've really fallen into my hands now
So let me introduce myself and take my bow

I'm the ruler of the chaos in which you stand
As far as it can be, it's under my command
But know well, it only obeys this order
Because it is in a state of total disorder

So know well, if you wish to defeat me
You'd better not going increasing entropy
But you've been bewitched by my monologue a touch too long
Because now I've set up my trap to test if you're strong"

As the last of his words faded, so did the sky
And the ground and the air, which whooshed as they went by
As our hero found himself in a pit laden with all types of stone
For lesser men, this would be a burial throne

 

Story: In which our hero makes the first task look easy

Surrounded by stones, surrounded by rocks
Surrounded by the echoes of a voice which incessantly mocks
Our hero surveys carefully all that surrounds
Until slowly and carefully,  solution is found

Out of the scattered boulders, a pattern emerges
From the utter stillness, his energy surges
Picking up with power and carefully placing
Here is his answer to the danger he's facing

He builds, most surely, his way to escape
As his creation over time starts to take shape
See in this chaotic and despondent place
Our hero has constructed a spiral staircase

He climbs it to freedom, and breathes in the air
It certainly seems clear and fresher than down there
And, showing no sign of the challenge taking a toll
He picks a direction and starts to stroll

 

Story: In which our hero faces a different sort of task

Such tasks by heroes are very simply done
It's taught first thing, heroing 101
But as our hero strolled, he found something new
In amid the chaos, something you wouldn't expect to

A town, or at least, some sort of dwelling
It appeared in tatters, but still somewhat compelling
An elder (or just old beyond his years)
Gives our hero a speech as he slowly appears

"Dear hero, oh hero, could you stay with us a while
Our town, it is large, but on no face is a smile
Our homes are in tatters, our politics a mess
This is an issue we need a hero to address"

Now this sort of task is not done in a day
But our hero felt like he had to stay
These people needed him, he felt it deep in his marrow
He agreed, whilst ignoring the cackle from the shadows.

 

Story: In which a long time passes

Our hero, he stayed, to do what he could
He built homes out of stone, cement and wood
He talked to people, made them understand
He built the greatest town in the land

The way he had done it - through peace, not force
Was bound to draw some attention of course
But remarkably, against all narrative and probability
This did not cause war, nor any instability

Others saw his example, some asked for his aid
Others strived on their own, many plans had been laid
Societies sprouted, this half-world was transformed
Only through our hero could we ever see this semi-terraform

But sadly, all things must come at a price
To not interfere in what you don't understand, was my advice
Many years later, our hero finally walks off, alone
From the town he now calls his home

 

Story: In which our hero goes to find his third challenge

Our hero walked as he not done before

For now he was older, and wiser at core
He had dealt with politics, geography and science
And left behind a community bonded in alliance

In fact this whole place didn't look as chaotic now
It had been ordered, tamed somehow
He now knew these trees and knew these roads
But sadly a happy ending is not the point of this ode

His feet had wandered, as hero's feet do
Until finally he came to some place quite new
A mountain stood there, its slope gradient high
It towered and loomed, dominating the sky

Our hero started, to time spent to consider
Though the air grew cold, he gave no shiver
Though the air grew thin, his breathing was strong
There was no time to be lost, this climb was to be long

 

Story: In which our hero meets the source of the voices

The journey up the mountain, it took some time,
But our hero had nearly ended his climb
When he heard the voice, that voice from before
In fact he heard voices, that voice and one more

The one that had started this whole curséd quest
Both were talking together, neither would rest
As he rose up over the final crest of stone
What he saw was a most unusual throne

It had no back, but luxurious seat and arms
With two figures back to back, who said "We mean you no harm
We are the watchers, the ones who look out on this land
And you've come to us now, just as we've planned

We watch over both halves of this earth, one half for each
We watch and command, but they lie out of our reach
We ensure they're in balance, as all things must be
So the result of your actions, you must now start to see"

 

Story: In which our hero finds out what he's done

Our hero looked out, to see what he'd done

He surveyed the world, and saw it not as one
For all the hero's good intentions in actions
They'd all had an equal and opposite reaction

Be elevating one side, helping on his way
His absence had led the other side to decay

Sometimes that's the way of life and light

With nothing wrong, there'd be nothing right

Our hero was shown what each action had done

How each task had helped and hurt someone

How our hero was the sinner and the saviour, the one who set the sails
This world is one of balance, and he charted the course on these scales

Oh hero, our hero, oh what have you done?
Oh hero, our hero, this can't be undone.

Though he knew it was necessary, when his full actions he realised

Our noble, strong hero? He broke down and he cried.

Story: In which our hero meets the source of the voices

The journey up the mountain, it took some time,
But our hero had nearly ended his climb
When he heard the voice, that voice from before
In fact he heard voices, that voice and one more

The one that had started this whole curséd quest
Both were talking together, neither would rest
As he rose up over the final crest of stone
What he saw was a most unusual throne

It had no back, but luxurious seat and arms
With 2 figures back to back, who said "We mean you no harm
We are the watchers, the ones who look out on this land
And you've come to us now, just as we've planned

We watch over both halves of this earth, one half for each
We watch and command, but they lie out of our reach
We ensure they're in balance, as all things must be
So the result of your actions, you must now start to see"

Story: In which our hero goes to find his third challenge

Our hero walked as he not done before
For now he was older, and wiser at core
He had dealt with politics, geography and science
And left behind a community bonded in alliance

In fact this whole place didn't look as chaotic now
It had been ordered, tamed somehow
He now knew these trees and knew these roads
But sadly a happy ending is not the point of this ode

His feet had wandered, as hero's feet do
Until finally he came to some place quite new
A mountain stood there, it's slope gradient high
It towered and loomed, dominating the sky

Our hero started, to time spent to consider
Though the air grew cold, he gave no shiver
Though the air grew thin, his breathing was strong
There was no time to be lost, this climb was to be long

Story: In which a long time passes

Our hero, he stayed, to do what he could
He built homes out of stone, cement and wood
He talked to people, made them understand
He built the greatest town in the land

The way he had done it - through peace, not force
Was bound to draw some attention of course
But remarkably, against all narrative and probability
This did not cause war, nor any instability

Others saw his example, some asked for his aid
Others strived on their own, many plans had been laid
Societies sprouted, this half-world was transformed
Only through our hero could we ever see this semi-terraform

But sadly, all things must come at a price
To not interfere in what you don't understand, was my advice
Many years later, our hero finally walks off, alone
From the town he now calls his home

Story: In which our hero faces a different sort of task

Such tasks by heroes are very simply done

It's taught first thing, heroing 101

But as our hero strolled, he found something new

In amid the chaos, something you wouldn't expect to

A town, or at least, some sort of dwelling

It appeared in tatters, but still somewhat compelling

An elder (or just old beyond his years)

Gives our hero a speech as he slowly appears

"Dear hero, oh hero, could you stay with us a while

Our town, it is large, but on no face is a smile

Our homes are in tatters, our politics a mess

This is an issue we need a hero to address"

Now this sort of task is not done in a day

But our hero felt like he had to stay

These people needed him, he felt it deep in his marrow

He agreed, whilst ignoring the cackle from the shadows.

Story: In which our hero makes the first task look easy

Surrounded by stones, surrounded by rocks
Surrounded by the echoes of a voice which incessantly mocks
Our hero surveys carefully all that surrounds
Until slowly and carefully,  solution is found

Out of the scattered boulders, a pattern emerges
From the utter stillness, his energy surges
Picking up with power and carefully placing
Here is his answer the the danger he's facing

He builds, most surely, his way to escape
As his creation over time starts to take shape
See in this chaotic and despondant place
Our hero has constructed a spiral staircase

He climbs it to freedom, and breathes in the air
It certainly seems clear and fresher than down there
And, showing no sign of the challenge taking a toll
He picks a direction and starts to stroll

Story: In which our hero has something (finally) happen to him

Barely had our hero crossed the threshold of the other half
Did he here a different voice, this one with a maniacal laugh
"Yo boy, you've really fallen into my hands now
So let me introduce myself and take my bow

I'm the ruler of the chaos in which you stand
As far as it can be, it's under my command
But know well, it only obeys this order
Because it is in a state of total disorder

So know well, if you wish to defeat me
You'd better not going increasing entropy
But you've been bewitched by my monologue a touch to long
Because now I've set up my trap to test if you're strong"

As the last of his words faded, so did the sky
And the ground and the air, which wooshed as they went by
As our hero found himself in a pit laden with all types of stone
For lesser men, this would be a burial throne

Story: In which our hero dreams

Our hero sleeps quickly, without needing sedating
He needs sleep. And if there's something needs doing there's no point in waiting
He dreams of his own world, but with one small change
As a voice from the wilderness comes into range

"Dear hero, oh hero, we need your assistance
But only if you are strong - this job requires persistence
And bravery too, you need to step where you've not before
Turn the other direction as you walk through your door

And when there, you'll come across 3 tasks needing done
What they are I cannot say, but you must do each one
It wont be easy. But I'll guide you where I can
For this task may be too much for just one man

You must restore balance to this distorted place
Now go, and find what dangers you will face."
Not sure if he was dreaming, it was groggily our hero awoke this night
He grabbed his satchel and left. And, for the first time, did not turn right.

Story: In which the world is set

Now let me describe the world in which our hero dwells
Lest you try to build it yourself, and fill it with the wrong smells
When telling a story, it's important to set the scene right
I'm about to put whole world in your head, so close your eyes and hold on tight

For this world is simply a world of two halves
Radically opposed, connected once and then no more paths
For two sides so opposed, the existence of the path is peculiar indeed
Neither goes near the other, save the house in the middle, for which our hero holds the deed

To the left of our hero's front door,
Lies chaos incarnate and more
To the right lies order, and an egalitarian town
Where all peoples are equal and none hold a crown

Both sides exist in harmony, but know well of this land
It is a dangerous business to interfere with what you don't understand
Our hero, for obvious reasons, has always stayed on the right
At least, until he lay down his head to rest tonight...

Story: In which we meet our hero

Now once a upon a time but many more times too
There lived a hero, let me introduce him to you
He stands, strong and blond and 6 foot 2.
An image of perfection, Yes, I hate him too.

Yet you can't hate him too long, he's everyone's friend
You, like everyone, will come to love him in the end
After all, he's just so easy to comprehend
You know what he'll do, on that you can depend

Sometimes, just sometimes, he'll be his own man
He'll divert radically from the well thought out plan
And when he does that, be as far away as you can
Unless you enjoy a ride in a nice, black, sedan

However, he doesn't know his strength, he has never been tested
As he has never been in battle, he has never been bested
But he's ready for the fight - after all, his whole life he's been rested
So listen up, because his story is one in which it's worth being invested

Story: In which our story has a Prologue

There are a lot of tales in this world.

But not that many actually worth listening to,

And far fewer worth retelling.

Particular for those whose business it is to do so.

Myself, I knew a tale or two I think you'd retell.

But which one, which one to chose?

Hmm, I apologise, but a few seconds are needed.

The choice of which story to allow to the world is not one to take lightly.

Let's see. I can't tell that one. Not if you want to sleep tonight.

And *this* one? 

No. The wounds haven't yet healed.

But, wait, this story right here? Hmm.

I guess I could. But you must promise to be careful with it.

Now, get yourself comfortable. 

Because, this world right now is to be one 

In which a story is told.




My theme for this month is to write a story. However, like most people, I'm scared of big chunks of text. But, I also want time to explore the story properly. So, rather than my usual weekly updates, I'm going to be updating 2/3 times a week with a provisional 4 stanza maximum.

I don't know where this story is going to go, but it's going to be fun finding out. Let's go for a ride.