Some of our emotions, the feelings and attitudes that drive us on and colour our relationships are often easier to understand than to explain and define. They are a part of us, as much so as arms or legs, tacitly understood while being difficult to pin down by mere words.
This point struck me a few turns back after a conversation which for one reason or another seemed to go somewhat astray.
The one with whom I was speaking offered his name and a very vague description of what he does – but declined to share the name of the man who leads an organisation to which the speaker belongs. Neither was he prepared to be all that forthcoming about the aims of his shadowy group.
One thing he said I do remember. I scrawled the words on a sheet of parchment as soon as they were spoken. He said “I think you and your friends spend too much time looking at monsters and not enough time thinking about where your food and other resources come from."
In response I listed the resources that we use, where they come from, and how all the people benefit from the trade generated by the presence of adventurers in the lands. When I asked if I’d omitted anything vital, the other admitted I didn’t seem to have done so.
At that point I expected an apology but received none. So I asked why he felt it was his place to malign my friends and comrades while they were not present to defend themselves against his unwarranted accusations. I was prepared to listen to his charges against myself – I was there and could point out his error and was in a position to put up a defence against his words. But I told him I was not prepared to hear him speak ill of my comrades behind their backs.
He tried to say that he had not spoken those words – but I had noted them down as soon as they were spoken. He got annoyed, saying that I am not as level-headed as he had been led to believe, nor as even-tempered. And he walked off in a huff.
I was, I think, being loyal to friends and comrades-in-arms. I defended them when they could not do so against an attack made when they were not present to hear it.
The meeting did, to be sure, leave the other with a low opinion of me. But there are those whose opinion of me, in my own mind, matters. And there are those whose opinion of me I pay no mind to as that opinion means nothing. And I have to say that Alexi Corsair is one of the latter.

The seasons roll on around us or over us. Once again we have entered the time of Winter’s Warming. The weather is cold. Piles of snow lie around ready to bar our way, though those same mounds might sometimes hide a small treasure. Many use the drifts to build snowmen, a pastime that can often lead to an unexpected outcome. Stars shine bright and clear in the cold night air and during the daytime marcs the ‘rifter flies low in the sky, its brilliance muted for a while.
Eternal bonds of friendship hold us together and help us endure the season of long dark nights and short days. Parties and games see us through the darkness:friendship and generosity help us understand that the ‘rifter may be dimmed but comradeship and companionship are not.
I was reminded of this a couple of turns ago. I went to visit the tallyman to pay my taxes – I was a few turns late in doing so – and discovered that some kind friend had already attended to the matter for me.
Their generosity heartened me. As often happens that friend wished to help me without mentioning the fact they had done so. I can only hope that in the future something I am able to do will repay the kindness of that unknown benefactor – although I may not be directly aware of the fact.
The lands which we call home exist as mountains and rivers, villages and towns. But they exist to a greater extent in the hearts of those who walk them.