Posted August 27, 2021
Expedition day: II.
Good adventurers don't forget things easily, good or bad, lest the dangers of a forgotten past carry onto their futures. I am no adventurer, but how could I ever forget the source of these tears? Whatever pride I had left when I entered this cavern, I keep none of it for the path ahead. Alas, I am truly undeserving of the Wormfeedersehen name; I have nothing left save for the promise of a restored scalp or the hope for a quick death.
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Expedition day: III.
The Elixir of Youth appears to be within reach but I am reluctant. I am found amongst fellow adventurers with whom I have shared my story; they, in turn, have reciprocated with theirs. And although I have never been one to shy away from a hairy situation, what we have left behind points at whatever lies ahead being nothing short of a daunting prospect and possibly, an almost certain doom.
The path opened up several options, the descent towards the altar grounds may proof tricky but the rope bridge seems to be the most logical choice; that is, unless its builders have an inhuman dedication towards their sense of humor.
Let me state that I possess no ill intent towards the natives of this underland, but should I make it to the Elixir alive, I will have to disguise my baldness by rolling my whip around my head and adding a few vine strands on top for decorative purposes. After all, how could there possibly be any balding person amongst the keepers of the ultimate cure?
Keeping in mind the path drawn by the stream as a possibility for an escape route, I shall attempt establishing communication. For all I know, these peoples could all be a bunch of scholars. Should this effort proof to be futile, I will try to make good use of my costume, adopt a prophetic demeanour, and submerge my much beloved gathered hair strands into each of the three bottles. Let my past youth reveal the path to my future one.
P.S: I leave this note atop of the waterfall for anyone willing to bear witness to the result of my conjectures. If I really am at my death's door, please know that I have no regrets, for in death I will finally be able to wipe away my sorrows.
Good adventurers don't forget things easily, good or bad, lest the dangers of a forgotten past carry onto their futures. I am no adventurer, but how could I ever forget the source of these tears? Whatever pride I had left when I entered this cavern, I keep none of it for the path ahead. Alas, I am truly undeserving of the Wormfeedersehen name; I have nothing left save for the promise of a restored scalp or the hope for a quick death.
---
Expedition day: III.
The Elixir of Youth appears to be within reach but I am reluctant. I am found amongst fellow adventurers with whom I have shared my story; they, in turn, have reciprocated with theirs. And although I have never been one to shy away from a hairy situation, what we have left behind points at whatever lies ahead being nothing short of a daunting prospect and possibly, an almost certain doom.
The path opened up several options, the descent towards the altar grounds may proof tricky but the rope bridge seems to be the most logical choice; that is, unless its builders have an inhuman dedication towards their sense of humor.
Let me state that I possess no ill intent towards the natives of this underland, but should I make it to the Elixir alive, I will have to disguise my baldness by rolling my whip around my head and adding a few vine strands on top for decorative purposes. After all, how could there possibly be any balding person amongst the keepers of the ultimate cure?
Keeping in mind the path drawn by the stream as a possibility for an escape route, I shall attempt establishing communication. For all I know, these peoples could all be a bunch of scholars. Should this effort proof to be futile, I will try to make good use of my costume, adopt a prophetic demeanour, and submerge my much beloved gathered hair strands into each of the three bottles. Let my past youth reveal the path to my future one.
P.S: I leave this note atop of the waterfall for anyone willing to bear witness to the result of my conjectures. If I really am at my death's door, please know that I have no regrets, for in death I will finally be able to wipe away my sorrows.
Post edited August 28, 2021 by Wirvington