Just A Simple Mason

From Atlantic Roleplay Wiki

Title: Just a simple mason

Author: Elric Telamon

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This tome is dedicated to and about my late grandfather, Joseph.

Yet most of you might not know him, as he did not slay any of the powerful evil demons dwelling in Sosaria, or never has led an army to victory, he still was possibly the greatest hero I ever met.

This is a tribute to him...

I remember my first memories of him. As a small child, I was always fascinated with his big, bruised hands. He was a stonemason, and he did work every single day, shaping blocks of perfectly cut stone. His hands were often torn, and he was a very strong person.

Yet, whenever he picked me up, he was very careful, patting me softly, caressing me without ever hurting me accidentally.

I looked up to him, because he knew many secrets of our land... how to ignite fires using stones ( which I considered more impressive than the fire-spells of the mages in town ).

He knew many tales about Sosarian heroes. Alas, he had even seen Lord British and the honorable Dupré in person. My grandfather never was a fighter.

When the call to arms was sent out in the past ( i.e. when the orcs overran Trinsic ) he never followed it, always claiming that his family needed his support, and someone had to earn the gold to pay for our food. Also, he pointed out that someone had to take care of the fields and farms left behind by our neighbours, who rushed to battle.

When I became a bit older, and started dreaming about becoming a mighty warrior, I started to feel embarrassed by what I thought was cowardice. It took many years for me to learn that he did not shy back from the battle because of fear, but because he knew that even though many mens were needed at the forefront of the battle, some were needed back home to keep the food supply coming, to protect the women and children from roaming murderers and rogues.

Back then, I did not understand this, and I lost respect for him.

At some point, I built myself a bow, made from wood I chopped off of a tree, and the sinews of an ox that was slain to provide food for a village celebration.

Even though I invested a lot of time in creating the bow, it of course was not as good as the ones sold by the bowcrafters in town. After all, I was no fletcher, and becoming a good bowmaker takes years.

I did use this bow though, trying to improve my skills with it, as I had decided to become an archer.

One day, I was practicing with it behind our humble house.

Suddenly, I realized that my grandfather was sitting on a fallen tree trunk, smoking a pipe, watching me.

He said "Where did you get the bow ?" I was afraid he would take it away, knowing he was not fond of weapons. However, I kinda felt appalled by him not being a warrior, and with a slightly shaking voice, I said "I made it !" He smiled, and said "Is it any good ?" I looked at the crooked bow in my hand... I never was able to shoot a straight arrow with it.

"No", I said "it´s crooked. Its no good at all". He considered this, and then said "Would you like to have a real bow, crafted by a bowcrafter ?"

I gasped, replying "But... but... those are quite expensive. But.. YES I would love to have one". Still smiling, he said "Let´s make a deal. I will give you a chance to earn half the money needed to buy a decent bow, and if you earn that money, I will pay the rest of it"

I was shocked, as I hadn´t expected that. Of course I agreed, and he took me to the local stone pits, where I had to pull huge pieces of rock with a rope, had to sharpen tools with a flint stone, and bring the masons food and water. After endless weeks, I had earned half of what I knew a bow would cost. On a sunny, warm day, my grandfather told me to get dressed to go to town.

We went to the bowcrafters store in Skara Brae... on the way there, he told me about his youth and his family, to pass the time. I learned that he had learned stonecrafting from his dad, had started working as a mason at y very young age, and even though it is not one of the most profitable professions in our land, he had worked hard enough to pay for the house I grew up in, and to provide enough food in order to sustain us all, even after my parents had been killed in the forest by a group of rogues.

Once at the bowyers shop, I picked a bow I felt attracted to right away, and my grandfather did pay the amount that I was missing in order to own that bow. My grandmother was shocked, as she did not want me to dabble with weapons. Yet my grandfather said "Let him... he will be a great archer one day, and he might be able to protect us".

The years passed, and I became a very good archer. So I decided to join the Yew Archers. On the night that I was accepted into the guild by Lord Arrow of Yew, I went to my grandfather, who was sitting on that same tree trunk, again smoking a pipe.

I said "Grandpa, I am leaving. I will join the Yew Archers, protecting the town, hunting down demons and murderers. I will need to move to another part of the continent, but I will send some of the gold I earn" He looked at me for a long time. Then, he said "I am sad to see you leave. But let me tell you something, and I want you to always remember this: Whatever you do, wherever you go... as long as you are doing what you feel you need to do, as long as you´re following your inner voice and are happy to do what you are doing, I am content, and will always welcome you here if you want to visit. And I will always be proud of you".

These words shook me, and I hugged him desperately, hiding my tears. And I noticed that even though he had never faced a dragon or battled the orcs, he indeed was a hero, as he had dedicated his life into his craft, going to work every day, working hard to support our family and feed us. Never going away to look for adventures or freedom, he had done everything to provide us with food and a roof above our head, and had always been there to counsel us, teach us, help us.

And I still strive to be as brave as him... not running away from the challenge of supporting a family, from getting up each day to face a day of hard work and torn hands, just to bring home a few coins to buy food for us. Years later, he passed away from old age, and I was right by his side when he did, and wept at his grave. I still miss him, yet I still go by some of the advice he had given me, still apply things he had taught me ( like igniting a fire with two stones ), and I know he is looking down at me, smiling and being proud of me.

He might not have brought dragon scales to the halls of Lord British, yet he was a true hero, and an honorable, hard working and wise person who deserves just as much respect as a paladin or member of the Royal Brittanian Guard. And to this day, before I mount my Charger Of The Fallen, to follow Lord Arrow Of Yew into battle, I whisper to myself... "Thanks for the bow and the faith, grandpa. I am happy doing what I do, and I hope to be as good at it as you were as a father and a mason one day. Hope you´re proud of me"

I will not forget him, and this is a tribute to him