Mar 15, 2012

Broken Swords

So lets say you're a sword smith. Maybe there's a better name for that... whatever. You make swords. And you really enjoy doing it. It's what you're good at. It's your passion.

Now, these things, these uhhh... "Bandits," lets say. So now these bandits come around and have been sort of wrecking shit around town and you're kind of worried about that, but you're not sure how to fight them because they're really strong.

So you're doing some research and some experimenting and you design this new sword. It's a great sword, one of your best. You simply adore the work you've put into it, it means a lot to you. Then you realize that it's really effective against these Bandits... so you use it against them and sort of drive them off.

Everyone praises your discovery, so you work to recreate the sword so that others can use it to defend themselves as well. And things are pretty good for a while.

But then one day, a Bandit gets his hands on your sword... and he turns it against you. Humiliating you and leaving you beaten and broken. Your own work used against you. Betrayed by your own love.

But you survive... you recover... slowly, but... surely. You make it uneasily back to your feet in time. But you're still broken on the inside. You stand over your forge and stare down at the hot metal, but you can't bring yourself to work.

Meanwhile, the Bandits have returned in full force. Everyone is hurting and dying around you. Your research... your sword... it could save them. But every time you draw up the strength to fight, the Bandit waves your sword above his head, reminding you of your defeat... of your shame. You cower away from the fight. You turn your back on your former love.

You could help. The people cry out for your guidance. For your sword. But you deny yourself the forge. Why? For what purpose? Are you so broken? Is your defeat so utter?

Then why do you live? If your soul has already abandoned this plane, then why does your body remain?

Stand and fight. Return to the forge. Face down your burden. Take hammer in hand and pound away your shame. Certainly the sword you forge could be turned against you once more, but what is one sword against many? What is the point of living if not to try your hand again? And again? And again?!

Take your place upon the world's stage and shine like the brightest star.

Or step off and fade into oblivion.

Were it your choice. What would you choose?

20 comments:

  1. Well, well. Just when I had come to accept your decline into insanity and stupidity with your recent experiments, you come out with this.

    Well said, my friend. I couldn't have said it better myself.

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    Replies
    1. I like to see myself as a smart person who does stupid things from time to time. You learn more by doing things wrong. Xp

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  2. Reflection of my own past tells me I would be so upset over the betrayal of having my sword used against me that I immidately made a new one and started killing everyone because no one could be trusted with it.

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  3. Questions like these are best discussed over copious amounts of beer and sorrow, but shine, your 'sword' only one instrument, whilst you wield the arsenal.
    -Manic

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  4. You are a good motivational speaker. You speak the truth: a person without the will to go on is a person who is already dead inside. We all must still move forward and reforge the sword - remake it like Narsil was reforged into Andúril. And then use it to war against the Bandits.

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  5. Depends on if the swords really are as useful as they're made out to be. Wouldn't be worth a damn if they all broke in the middle of combat.

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  6. Proxy got his hands on a pony, huh?

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    Replies
    1. Apparently so. And apparently ponies can kill people now.

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    2. Yup, I was tragically beaten half to death with a small plastic horse this morning. I'm lucky to be alive.

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  7. So you take your passion and use it to your advantage, even as others attempt to exploit it. I approve of this.
    S

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  8. You're implying someone actually CRAFTED a sword strong enough to defeat the bandits... you're also implying that a stronger sword can be created.

    ...I guess I'm missing the point?

    I really don't care.

    Seriously, ponies?

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    Replies
    1. I'm not going to live that down with you am I? XD

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    2. Gargomel, you went over to the pony side, you can't ever live that down. I may be a bad guy, but even I have standards. And that's just plain sick.

      You should be ashamed. Go sit in the corner right now.

      Stay frosty.

      Delete
    3. Nope. I shall keep holding that over your head until the day you die.
      Like, seriously, that's how I'm gonna end every other comment on your blog.
      I'm never gonna let you forget just how dumb that was.

      Keep updated.

      Delete
  9. Is the moral of the story "Don't play with fire if your afraid of being burned?"

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  10. That wasn't a very good story, I couldn't relate with the protagonist at all, and the main antagonist was way too one deminsional. That and the big twist near the end was foreshadowed way too heavily, I wasn't surprised at all.

    See you around
    -Cage

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  11. I did take to the stage Gargoyle. I took a stance to ensure long-term survival of our race.

    To ensure none of us would have to step off and face oblivion.

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  12. Why not forge a shield against the sword? Why not forge an entire suit of armor?

    Wait, this is a metaphor, right? What, exactly, is it a metaphor about though?

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