Another morning. Up when the rooster sings, mass in the mass hall and then breakfast with the other monks in the dining hall, followed by the morning tea before practice. Standard routine, standard day, except that the monastery is preparing for the next festival: Justice of Midnight - a holiday of St. Cuthbert where participants atone for their sins before going to bed at midnight, are judged in their dreams and awaken to the brand new day accepting the consequences. Rarely does anything bad happen to anyone, and the people often celebrate this in the coming morning. In preparation, a lot of foods are being cooked up already, and there are some decorations in place.
Either way, as you make your way silently through the hallways and the gardens of the monastery, breathing in the vapours of the breakfast from the kitchen, the atmosphere seems slightly tense around some of the older monks, as though they were afraid of something. Nothing too apparent, but as the old men rarely speak about their concerns, most everyone has learnt to read the coming from their attitude. Some of the monks jokingly call it "ancestral prescience", but still, the attitude of the older monks seems to be a fairly good indicator of the coming times, so this slightly concerns you.
You are one of the first ones to appear to the mess hall, and you take your place there, near the center, behind the priests and priestesses. In front of the novice monks, but slightly behind the older more venerable ones. In front there is the grand abbot, who seems to wake two to three hours before anyone else to make sure he is already standing there waiting for everyone to arrive when they do. Interestingly enough, you don't know his name, as everyone just calls him the grand abbot, or even THE abbot, occassionally. Either way, the man is as old as the trees that grow on the gates, they say, although it's probably a tall tale.
From your place you take note as more people approach. Aanetra, the leading nurse around here, with Abhinanda, the nurse that most often treated the monks injured in practice, right after her, along with the other nurses whose names are not familiar to you. Your teacher, Shen Aidian, who has thought you most you know about fighting - you still have problems just landing a hit on him, although he's getting old and is nowhere near as strong or agile as you are anymore. Houbiann and Gawaka, the two brothers who tend to grapple more than they kick or punch, and who joined the monastery some years after you. They are your main practice partners. Then, of course, Honochu, who joined a bit later, but not quite as young as monks often do. Rumours tell something of a shady past, but he keeps quiet about that and seems to have taken to the life in a monastery as grace. He occassionally practices with you, but mostly does everything alone.
Waiting for the mass to begin, you do feel the atmosphere thickening, as if everyone was expecting some kind of explanation to come. As the mass proceeds and nothing is explained, it soon feels as though the air could be cut with the blunt end of a blade. After the normal proceedings, however, there is a dramatic pause where the abbot should've normally taken his leave. Instead, he continues in a serious tone.
"Monastery will not be open to outsiders during this Justice of Midnight, and no one is allowed to leave the monastery grounds unless they can present heavy evidence why it would be of utmost importance."
Before anyone in the hall reacts, he continues. "May Cuthbert bless us all and cleanse us of our sins so we can live a good and pure life." He then quickly takes his leave.
It is the moment before the outburst of questions, where no one is quite sure if it is appropriate to take the initiative to their hands and begin to discuss the situation. Everything is dead silent.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
Without yet standing up or answering anything, Shen motions you to the left with his eyes. As the outburst starts, he stands up calmly and starts walking to the indicated direction, to the herb garden.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
Tai stands up, and calmly follows Shen out to Herb Garden saying nothing to the others so as not to draw any attention to himself. All the while though he pays attention to what it is they are saying as he makes his way out.
Dice Roller1 D20 rolled with a +4 modifier
11 + 4
EDIT OOC: can I just take a 10 instead?
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"As the size of an explosion increases, the number of social situations it is incapable of solving approaches zero." -- Varsuvius, Order of the Stick
Tai mostly hears confused outcries as a lot of people were waiting for the event. For the reasons why it was cancelled, Tai hears none. As he walks away, the noise quickly calms to the stillness of the gardens. Having waded through the crowd faster than him, Shen is already waiting there, looking at the plants. Someone who didn't know him would say that nothing ever happened, but to you he clearly seems slightly worried.
Not after you already rolled.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
Shen takes a deep sigh and pulls some weed away from the roots of a nearby plant before giving his unsatisfactory answer: "I don't know." Turning to look at you, he continues: "I know it must be grave. Only one of the festivals in my lifetime has been cancelled like this, and it was during the war of the Razorwing."
He takes a slight pause, then continues gazing past you, into the distance: "That war took the lives of what, half the continent? The monastery has kept its' doors open during the smaller wars and famines. They aren't closed easily." He shrugs. "They're hardly closed for any reason at all."
"Whatever the reason might be, I'll find out soon enough. You'll just have to remain calm. Last thing we want is panic, no matter how warranted it might be."
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
"As you say, Master." Tai kneels and assists Shen in tending the herb Garden, he hopes to at least calm his masters nerves by his presence if possible.
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():
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"As the size of an explosion increases, the number of social situations it is incapable of solving approaches zero." -- Varsuvius, Order of the Stick
"You should go to breakfast, Tai." Shen says after a short while. It is pretty clear he needs some time alone to think.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
Tai nods, stands up, and says "I will see you later then Master." and heads first to the washing room to clean up, and then after that to the dinning hall.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"As the size of an explosion increases, the number of social situations it is incapable of solving approaches zero." -- Varsuvius, Order of the Stick
Without saying anything, Shen continues to weed the herbs. Something to do while thinking, probably. It doesn't seem he's giving his thoughts to it.
As you advance through the hallways, you walk across multiple groups discussing what has happened. No one seems to know, but if you had to pick from the theories you've overheard, a famine or a war seems most likely. Theories about a necromancer on the loose make no sense, or at least you'd think that you could tell a walking skeleton apart from a man. Either way, everyone seems concerned. A lot of these people have acquintances from outside the monastery, and are worried about them.
Things are not much different in the dining hall, gossip all around. As you take your bowl of rice and sit down to the table with Honochu, Houbiann and Gawaka, they turn to face you. Honochu is the first one to speak up, clearly worried about something: "So, did the sensei know anything?"
Spot Check, dear mister.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
"All he was able to tell me really was that the last time something like this has happened was during the war of the Razorwing." Tai explains furtively glancing around the dining hall.
Dice Roller1 D20 rolled with a +4 modifier
13 + 4
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"As the size of an explosion increases, the number of social situations it is incapable of solving approaches zero." -- Varsuvius, Order of the Stick
"I remember that." Honochu replies. "The war I meant." He seems clearly more worried now, and uncomfortable with the mention of the war. "I just hope nothing that severe will happen. I pray that it won't happen. To all of the gods worshipped here in the monastery and to many more."
"Hell, I'd pray for Nerull if it helped to prevent another war like that, and so would many others." He continues after a slight pause, holding his head in his hands and staring into his bowl of rice. Houbiann and Gawaka sit silent, uncertain if it's a good place to ask more questions.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
"Don't be stupid, Praying to Nerull and asking him to prevent a war would be like asking a tornado to a Children's party." Tai says with a sober look on his face.
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():
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"As the size of an explosion increases, the number of social situations it is incapable of solving approaches zero." -- Varsuvius, Order of the Stick
"Actually, that would be Eryt-" Gawaka starts, but his sentence is quickly shot down by a serious glance from his brother. Honochu doesn't seem to care for the interruption, but continues.
"No, you don't know what it was, and I hope no one ever again will have to." He says, his eyes still fixated to that rice bowl. "It was not a normal war. It was a slaughter, where most people were killed by their allies. Men who had sworn to protect them."
He takes a short pause, trying to suppress his feelings, but you can notice that his hands are fisted. His eyes are mostly closed, but when they are open he seems to look at the rice at the bottom of the bowl. He seems to gather himself, though. "You see, Razorwing was an archivist of forbidden lore. I don't know the specifics, but somehow he learned magic that humans should not have access to, and he trained his officers in it.." He takes a pause, letting you catch on in thought. "They used magic to raise the fallen warrior as pawns, some kind of un-life, eternal servitude.."
"Their army advanced from the west across the lands. The army tried to evacuate the civilians, but it was hard.. Those pawns of Razorwing would walk day and night and never get tired. They would walk in front of us and delay us, so the men of Razorwing could catch up. He knew that if he caught the escaping civilians, he would have another patch of corpses to join his legions.."
Here, he takes a long pause and moves the ricebowl closer to the center of table, before letting his head fall down on the table, face down.
"So the civilians had to die before he caught them. Soldiers killed their own families and hacked them down to pieces, desecrating their bodies.." He continues, it taking a lot of his strength to put out each word. "There was no other way. They had no way out, and at least it saved them from the non-life.." He continues, justifying to himself, it is pretty easy to tell that he's crying at this point. "One in ten men took their lifes when the orders were given, refusing to lay their sword on their wifes and children. More than half of the remaining ones died of the diseases that followed, or went insane haunted by the ghosts of their friends and family." He takes a moment to dry his tears to the sleeve of his clothing before resuming his speech. "Nevertheless, the remaining soldiers escaped the incoming force, due to regaining their mobility in small numbers.. They succeeded at uniting with the dwarven and elven forces in far east, the common goal of thwarting the threat Razorwing presented uniting the people."
"Nevertheless, the battle was long and bloody. Not even in combat could one trust his friends to stay dead. Elves, dwarves, and men alike all suffered severe losses on the actual day of the battle, and afterwards many died to the disease. Many again took their lives, having nothing left to live for. Some left for lives in solitude, and remaining rose in ranks of the army and administered the repopulation and population growth in the remaining years.." He sighs, slowly pulling his face from the wooden table, trying to look you into the eyes but not able to muster the strength required. "I just don't want anyone to go through that ever again, and if worshipping Nerull would save others from that fate, by the nine hells, I would worship Nerull.."
After this, he seems to take notice of the people on the nearby tables having taken notice of his tale, and seems really uncomfortable. Quickly, he begins to make his leave, leaving the bowl of rice on the table. Not anyone seems to see it as appropriate to stop him to ask questions.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
Tai thinks to himself while finishing his meal that it was probably the worship of Nerull that started the War of Razorwing in the first place with a sort of grim shudder at the thought.
Private Mod Note
():
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"As the size of an explosion increases, the number of social situations it is incapable of solving approaches zero." -- Varsuvius, Order of the Stick
After a moment of silence, Gawaka is the first one to open his mouth: "Did he just imply that he killed his family, that..", but quickly his brother is there to shut him up. "Whatever he might've done he has atoned for, and he wouldn't've been let into the monastery if his sins were forgiven. We are in no position to judge him."
"... Still.."
"Yeah.."
Apart from the conversation at your table, it is easy to notice that most other closeby tables are discussing this situation now, and many of them seem to be more afraid, now that they are given something to fear.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
"Well, this is not good. Master Shen told me to keep our nerves Calm, and not to panic. And I seem to have failed at that." Tai says glancing at the other tables.
Private Mod Note
():
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"As the size of an explosion increases, the number of social situations it is incapable of solving approaches zero." -- Varsuvius, Order of the Stick
"Calm? I can see the whole point of staying calm in the face of danger.." Gawaka starts, again, and the two brothers finish the sentence together: "If I only knew what the danger was in the first place." Shortly afterwards Houbiann explains the rationale behind their line of thought. "There is a difference between retaining your calm to think before your act and simply doing nothing. When we're given no option to think what to do, we are simply wasting our time by not acting."
It seems that their opinion gets a lot of silent approval from the nearby tables, although no one says anything.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
"We don't even know that there is danger yet. So speculating that such is the case is a little premature to say the least." Tai says a little exasperated.
Private Mod Note
():
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"As the size of an explosion increases, the number of social situations it is incapable of solving approaches zero." -- Varsuvius, Order of the Stick
"Well I propose we go to find out, shall we!" Gawaka exclaims. His brother seems slightly more reluctant to agree, but is still clearly on his side. The crowd cheers, and seems ready to go ask questions right this moment.
I suppose you can try to sway their opinion with a diplomacy check. Mind that your probability of success approaches zero.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
"Yes! If we all go, he has no option but to!" Gawaka responds, this time more to the crowd around than you. Swiftly, the crowd starts moving away from you. Houbiann shrugs and follows it.
Shall you follow or stay behind to see if anyone else did? Or..?
Private Mod Note
():
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The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
Tai shrugs, this could only end up badly. But out of a sense of responsibility for this mess, he figures he kind of owes it to them to at least follow them. He figures at the least he can attempt to prevent a wholesale panic should the worst occur. And at the best he might find out what has caused this situation.
Looking bemused at the remnants of his meal, he gets up and follows the crowd hoping without real hope that they don't find the Abbot.
Private Mod Note
():
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"As the size of an explosion increases, the number of social situations it is incapable of solving approaches zero." -- Varsuvius, Order of the Stick
Following the crowd, you quickly realize that most of the monastery folk are in it. Seems like people are really afraid of the unknown - especially the older folk. As the crowd makes its' way through towards the temple of Cuthbert to request information, you hear the abbot's voice echoing in the monastery grounds, loud and clear. Almost instantly, the crowd silences to hear it.
"Across the continent it may sunder peace
But it will not shed the liquid of life cerise
To prepare, we must caution increase To survive, we must not our emotions release
It is coming, swiftly and silently
Travels across land and sea tirelessly
None of this will it do violently
To survive, is of utmost primacy
Anywhere men go, it will follow
From inside, it will gnaw them hollow
Ones left behind shall feel great sorrow
But only them will see the morrow"
It seems as though the time stopped when the abbot finished his last sentence and it was clear he wouldn't continue. Everyone around you seems to be thinking furiously what the abbot tried to convey with this message.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
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Either way, as you make your way silently through the hallways and the gardens of the monastery, breathing in the vapours of the breakfast from the kitchen, the atmosphere seems slightly tense around some of the older monks, as though they were afraid of something. Nothing too apparent, but as the old men rarely speak about their concerns, most everyone has learnt to read the coming from their attitude. Some of the monks jokingly call it "ancestral prescience", but still, the attitude of the older monks seems to be a fairly good indicator of the coming times, so this slightly concerns you.
You are one of the first ones to appear to the mess hall, and you take your place there, near the center, behind the priests and priestesses. In front of the novice monks, but slightly behind the older more venerable ones. In front there is the grand abbot, who seems to wake two to three hours before anyone else to make sure he is already standing there waiting for everyone to arrive when they do. Interestingly enough, you don't know his name, as everyone just calls him the grand abbot, or even THE abbot, occassionally. Either way, the man is as old as the trees that grow on the gates, they say, although it's probably a tall tale.
From your place you take note as more people approach. Aanetra, the leading nurse around here, with Abhinanda, the nurse that most often treated the monks injured in practice, right after her, along with the other nurses whose names are not familiar to you. Your teacher, Shen Aidian, who has thought you most you know about fighting - you still have problems just landing a hit on him, although he's getting old and is nowhere near as strong or agile as you are anymore. Houbiann and Gawaka, the two brothers who tend to grapple more than they kick or punch, and who joined the monastery some years after you. They are your main practice partners. Then, of course, Honochu, who joined a bit later, but not quite as young as monks often do. Rumours tell something of a shady past, but he keeps quiet about that and seems to have taken to the life in a monastery as grace. He occassionally practices with you, but mostly does everything alone.
Waiting for the mass to begin, you do feel the atmosphere thickening, as if everyone was expecting some kind of explanation to come. As the mass proceeds and nothing is explained, it soon feels as though the air could be cut with the blunt end of a blade. After the normal proceedings, however, there is a dramatic pause where the abbot should've normally taken his leave. Instead, he continues in a serious tone.
"Monastery will not be open to outsiders during this Justice of Midnight, and no one is allowed to leave the monastery grounds unless they can present heavy evidence why it would be of utmost importance."
Before anyone in the hall reacts, he continues. "May Cuthbert bless us all and cleanse us of our sins so we can live a good and pure life." He then quickly takes his leave.
It is the moment before the outburst of questions, where no one is quite sure if it is appropriate to take the initiative to their hands and begin to discuss the situation. Everything is dead silent.
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
EDIT OOC: can I just take a 10 instead?
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
He takes a slight pause, then continues gazing past you, into the distance: "That war took the lives of what, half the continent? The monastery has kept its' doors open during the smaller wars and famines. They aren't closed easily." He shrugs. "They're hardly closed for any reason at all."
"Whatever the reason might be, I'll find out soon enough. You'll just have to remain calm. Last thing we want is panic, no matter how warranted it might be."
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
As you advance through the hallways, you walk across multiple groups discussing what has happened. No one seems to know, but if you had to pick from the theories you've overheard, a famine or a war seems most likely. Theories about a necromancer on the loose make no sense, or at least you'd think that you could tell a walking skeleton apart from a man. Either way, everyone seems concerned. A lot of these people have acquintances from outside the monastery, and are worried about them.
Things are not much different in the dining hall, gossip all around. As you take your bowl of rice and sit down to the table with Honochu, Houbiann and Gawaka, they turn to face you. Honochu is the first one to speak up, clearly worried about something: "So, did the sensei know anything?"
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
"Hell, I'd pray for Nerull if it helped to prevent another war like that, and so would many others." He continues after a slight pause, holding his head in his hands and staring into his bowl of rice. Houbiann and Gawaka sit silent, uncertain if it's a good place to ask more questions.
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
"No, you don't know what it was, and I hope no one ever again will have to." He says, his eyes still fixated to that rice bowl. "It was not a normal war. It was a slaughter, where most people were killed by their allies. Men who had sworn to protect them."
He takes a short pause, trying to suppress his feelings, but you can notice that his hands are fisted. His eyes are mostly closed, but when they are open he seems to look at the rice at the bottom of the bowl. He seems to gather himself, though. "You see, Razorwing was an archivist of forbidden lore. I don't know the specifics, but somehow he learned magic that humans should not have access to, and he trained his officers in it.." He takes a pause, letting you catch on in thought. "They used magic to raise the fallen warrior as pawns, some kind of un-life, eternal servitude.."
"Their army advanced from the west across the lands. The army tried to evacuate the civilians, but it was hard.. Those pawns of Razorwing would walk day and night and never get tired. They would walk in front of us and delay us, so the men of Razorwing could catch up. He knew that if he caught the escaping civilians, he would have another patch of corpses to join his legions.."
Here, he takes a long pause and moves the ricebowl closer to the center of table, before letting his head fall down on the table, face down.
"So the civilians had to die before he caught them. Soldiers killed their own families and hacked them down to pieces, desecrating their bodies.." He continues, it taking a lot of his strength to put out each word. "There was no other way. They had no way out, and at least it saved them from the non-life.." He continues, justifying to himself, it is pretty easy to tell that he's crying at this point. "One in ten men took their lifes when the orders were given, refusing to lay their sword on their wifes and children. More than half of the remaining ones died of the diseases that followed, or went insane haunted by the ghosts of their friends and family." He takes a moment to dry his tears to the sleeve of his clothing before resuming his speech. "Nevertheless, the remaining soldiers escaped the incoming force, due to regaining their mobility in small numbers.. They succeeded at uniting with the dwarven and elven forces in far east, the common goal of thwarting the threat Razorwing presented uniting the people."
"Nevertheless, the battle was long and bloody. Not even in combat could one trust his friends to stay dead. Elves, dwarves, and men alike all suffered severe losses on the actual day of the battle, and afterwards many died to the disease. Many again took their lives, having nothing left to live for. Some left for lives in solitude, and remaining rose in ranks of the army and administered the repopulation and population growth in the remaining years.." He sighs, slowly pulling his face from the wooden table, trying to look you into the eyes but not able to muster the strength required. "I just don't want anyone to go through that ever again, and if worshipping Nerull would save others from that fate, by the nine hells, I would worship Nerull.."
After this, he seems to take notice of the people on the nearby tables having taken notice of his tale, and seems really uncomfortable. Quickly, he begins to make his leave, leaving the bowl of rice on the table. Not anyone seems to see it as appropriate to stop him to ask questions.
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
"... Still.."
"Yeah.."
Apart from the conversation at your table, it is easy to notice that most other closeby tables are discussing this situation now, and many of them seem to be more afraid, now that they are given something to fear.
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
It seems that their opinion gets a lot of silent approval from the nearby tables, although no one says anything.
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
Looking bemused at the remnants of his meal, he gets up and follows the crowd hoping without real hope that they don't find the Abbot.
But it will not shed the liquid of life cerise
To prepare, we must caution increase
To survive, we must not our emotions release
It is coming, swiftly and silently
Travels across land and sea tirelessly
None of this will it do violently
To survive, is of utmost primacy
Anywhere men go, it will follow
From inside, it will gnaw them hollow
Ones left behind shall feel great sorrow
But only them will see the morrow"
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.