The Journey

As the air cooled, and the leaves turned to brown the frozen southern breezes lashed the snowcapped mountains to the south and the west. As the seas grew cold and the icy cold rain started to appear across the broad Sydney basin, darkness edged ever closer, enveloping the township with an air of sodden neglect. As the floral blooms closed and withered, and the birds retreated north in noisy flocks that clouded the crimson skies, and as the people donned scarves and woolen garments, many turned their minds north and east to faraway places. For amidst the darkness and hopeless trudgery of oppression a small band of brave men plotted and planned. It was decided a fellowship be formed to quest to the faraway lands of the east and there to learn the secrets of sunshine from the ancient samabula clan.

The fellowship numbered seven, for seven seemed like an appropriate number to undertake such a task. Each of the three tribes was represented. From the shire there was Naythaniel the swagger and the maiden Cathreeny McSweeny, their offspring malarchee, as well as Deedan the hobbit lord. From the tribe of the near west came the two wise Donato-kin known for their generous spirits and culinary skills. Lastly the tribe of the hills and the seas in the near east sent the fair one they call ‘Shell’. Such was the fellowship that was formed, and each was picked for their skill and character.

This unlikely fellowship, forged in such dire circumstances set out with purpose to reach the lands of the Far East. It was decided they would ride the giant skybird eastward to make haste with their journey, even though doing so would mean the fellowship was journeying into the path of certain danger. As they arrived at the skybird port, surrounded by terrifying packs of western pirates from the clan Bogania of the lands of Penrifficus and mystic worshipers of the moon Godess hunni, the fellowship quickly found a rough and surly gentlemen of lore who promised to take them to the Eastern lands. They followed him through a dark alleyway to a dimly lit room, a single oil lamp shining defiantly against a wall where an old weathered face of a woman who had never known beauty waited. She looked the party up and down with a mocking grin. “So it’s the East ye be seeking eh? Well I can get you there alright, but the two of ye aren’t fit to ride the great star bird.” She pointed at Naythaniel first, then Malarchee and McSweeny. “You’ll ave to stay behind, and I aint sure about the likes of you fellers neither” she growled, pointing at the Donato-kin, and folded her arms in defiance. After several hours of negotiating it was agreed that the Donato-kin could ride the skybird but the two shire folk would have to stay behind. Although the demands were unreasonable, there was no other way to get to the lands of the Far East, and the two shire-folk would ask around for another skybird, and rendezvous with the fellowship later.

The rest of the party retreated to the town inn for the night and negotiated for a room. They rested uneasily as the night drew on, eager to depart the next morning, but sad to be leaving behind their beloved comrades who had journeyed so bravely thus far.

The morning birds sung a subdued song of sorrow as the dull morning light roused the weary travelers. They gathered their belongings and set out on the skybird for the long journey over the oceans to the lands of the East, glad to be rid of the hideous star-wench and her skybird port. The journey wore on in a long and uneventful silence, with no food or ale to raise morale. As the skybird approached the lands of the east the travelers stared open mouthed at the beauty of the azure blue oceans below and the burnt yellow sun hovering above a crimson horizon. They touched down at the port of the Far East and walked towards town, bathed in the magical warm yellow light of the afternoon sun. They found an inn and consumed some of the local cuisine. It tasted unfamiliar but satisfied the hunger of the journey. Deedan indulged in some brown murky Eastern ale that made his tongue numb as he heartily guzzled a flaggon of the exotic mead and ordered another. They all slept well in the inn that night. They had made it to the lands of the Far East.

The next morning the travellers rose early, except for Deedan who took some coaxing after a night spent with exotic mead, and busied themselves with preparations for their exciting journey to the home of the ancient Samabula clan to learn the secrets of sunshine. They travelled by horse and cart down a long road for several hours as minstrels played tunes unfamiliar to their ears about the virtue of drinks of oddly hued oxen and pirate liquor. Finally they arrived at the home of the ancient Samabula clan, a modest two storey dwelling amidst fields and roads in the hills of the township of Suva. The fellowship was sad their journey had come to an end, but happy to make acquaintance with the Samabula clan. Many stories were told, times were shared, and the secrets of warmth and sunshine exchanged. The shire-folk even arrived after a week or two to share in the festivities. The journey was complete, but the fellowship would not be forgotten.

The party returned home with the secrets of warmth, and were received with adulation by their countrymen, for it had been bitterly cold in their absence. Many stories were exchanged and posted on the walls of the town.

When the sons of men speak of the heroes of lore, none shall be more revered than the brave group of travelers who left their homeland to venture forth into realms unknown. For they will not be forgotten.


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