A long day of preparation has finally given way to the moment of reckoning. To venture off into the wild, as master and faithful squire, young Richard and I discuss what grizzly beasts and wild moors our clandestine crusade will undoubtedly bring to us. As the sun glints most gloriously off the hilt of my sword I am suddenly reminded of Don Quixote from who’s mind sprung the wild and idealistic thoughts that inspire our day’s adventure.
We load the packsaddles and secure tightly my aged buckler onto that valiant steed of mine only know as “The Blurred Shadow” by those who witness her peerless speed. Out unto the open plains we ride only likened to the gods for we shine and shimmer with the radiance and honor of knight-errantry, which obscures the sun for its brightness.
Fighting many battles against countless foes, my arm of bronze wins the day. We are tireless in our endeavors to free the enslaved, right the many wrongs, defend the defenseless, and protect the honor maidens who’s chastity is threatened by the wild rouges who are most consistent in their wrongdoings. We stop infrequently to break our fast or plaster our wounds, so gravely needed are our services by those who would sound the call to those few brave men dwelling over the hills and dale, living off of tubers and what can be found on the constant move towards glory. After facing many a tremendous peril our journey takes us full circle finally alighting from our respective mounts and then entering the Wallace with our heads held high.
-Clif Staples, Temple, ME