[ABitOfVittle]

The Ramblings of a Lad.

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Who would of thought that a town like this would be all the way out here? Better then the sands themselves, that's for sure. People seem nice, a whole community feeling.

Hope this pans out, can't think of many other places I can go.

Guess the desert is always an option, huh.

Time, as always, will tell. Just got to hope it's singing a sweeter tune then it has.

[ABitOfVittle]

Upon the Page lies a intricate hash-work of scribbled blueprints. Plans to never come to fruition, ideas cut short by logic. Innovation in countenance to conceivable skill. A boy's imagination curtailed by the realism bore by any smith. Though one does remain, a cube--a simple sketch of it. A few notes and lines drawn to it's various parts. Albeit the handwriting was more akin to chicken scratch, something learned in necessity, not in ease.

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  All of my life, flipping through these old pages now? I've been curtailing ever little idea I had. Because they simply weren't possible. What's a boy to do, when he looks at the world and sees a canvas unwilling to change? Guns, Swords, Armor, that's all I would ever make. Even if I was better then my father, it's all I'd make. At least, that's what I thought. But what happens when I see the extents of another? Of one who has mastered the craft? To see what lies down the road hard taken and harder prevailed? 

  Last night I got glimpse of that road. And now I don't think I can look away. The intricacies flood my mind, the tools fill my hands when they are empty. I smell the soot of the forge, I taste the smoke. I can't shake these feelings of...awakening? Maybe those boyish ideas were more possible then I thought? Maybe if I learn and I mean, truly learn, I can do more then Guns, and Swords, and Armor.

  I guess I should work on redrawing some of these sketches after all. Look at that, pa'. You were wrong for once.

[ABitOfVittle]

Today you woke up, and it was the same as any other. you rolled out of bed. Smoked some Soothe for the aches, went over blueprints while you waited for it to kick in proper, peeked out my window to make sure there were no fires. The usual, the same, the routine. Guess that's how it is, when you find a home. You make routines. Real ones, that is. It's nice...though, today was different wasn't it Cletus?

Today, when you went outside; took a walk to see the sights, a notice caught your eyes. Results, long since awaited. And in your haste, did you skim them...so fast you'd nearly missed your name, no? But, there it was.

    Cletus Klein, Sentinel. And in a few years time? High Sentinel.

It isn't a dream. It isn't a trick of the mind. No, that first hill which you had looked upon for so long, you climbed. You dragged yourself over that edge, and claimed what you deserve. For the fighting, the bloodshed, the ingenuity. You deserved this. And none can doubt it, now.

Except yourself. If you let it happen.

But that's the point of the Climb, is it not? You crossed one hill...so what's the next? Will you create something great? Fight with valor? Nurture these lands you now call home? Maybe, you'll pull the trigger and do what needs to be done. This hill, is more like a mountain. And whatever path you take to climb it; it will only grow steeper.

But that's alright, you're a Klein, and Kleins are made to scale the heights. They are made to claw and bite and drag themselves onto the next leg of their journey.

Being scared, is no longer an option. Hesitation walked out the door, and whilst the rest might be nice? It's around that time to start finding your next trail. To tighten your belt, loop your boots, and find a ledge to pull yourself up. Afterall, the clock is ticking. And if you slow down, it'll overtake you. Good thing Speed is your thing, isn't it? Grit those teeth, partner. And keep that gun loaded. It only gets harder, from here.