Prose from a Realmsman

By: Thomas Radio


A collection of Poetry and Prose collected from my journeys through the realm. The stack gets higher and higher, and I am forced to scroll further and further into my ramblings before I find something worthy of my opus. Here are the musings and half-thoughts that I write when quills and papers are within reach.

Agehood of a Lad

When I was young they called me Brilliant

Curious and knowing I pursued knowledge

I ate understanding with ferocity

And my appetite would not be stayed

Through teachings of all my town had to offer

The larger cities

And citadels still

I stood with my father when they proclaimed me Enlightened

And I felt as if I stood under the brilliance of the gods

And that is where the darkness snuck in from the shadows their light cast

Aghast! The Fallen

Would that I could tell you

Of my first night as Enlightened

That all my brain had absorbed was spilling forth off a silver tongue

Impressing kings and seducing maidens

But I sat alone

And the only thing that spilled that night were tears

How Reality Looks to a Fraud

I have read scrolls that have travelled further than I could even dream

I studied scriptures copied from voices recorded on peaks of mountains

I can reference legend and lore from before my time

I’ll tell you all there is to know of a plant genus I’m hinged on faith to believe exists

I can tell you all of these things and more

And from my tower of books I am a fraud

For I have not seen anything I speak of with my own eyes

Ne’er felt with mine own hands


Only ever heard, and read

And so I sit amongst legions of learned souls

And feel a fraud

And pointless

Abscond with the Truth


I’ve packed my bags in the night. I send a raven rather than dove so no treachery will befall her while she flies through inky skies to bring you these words. You have given gold, and even more precious, time, to see that I become educated, and my hand trembles to write even this. To tell my father that all he has given is not enough. The heart can only hear about the world so long before it drives the body to action. I’m to set off as an adventurer. I bring with me my inkwells and quills, my tomes and scrolls, so you will hear from me.

So many before me have written the information I have consumed thus far. It is time I offer something to the future more than my understanding of the past.

I must taste the earth if I am to free myself of the musty libraries. I will record the present, and leave truth and knowledge for the generations to come.

Do not search for me, I do not intend to stop long enough to be found.

Set Off!

The guards nod off in the painters light of morning

I am a fox under hill

Dew licks my leather boots, pristine from unuse

Set to work for the journey ahead

Ponders of an Adventurer

How long before I drop my name

And take on a moniker more suited

I’m a wayfarer a nomad or how long until then

The spirit of adventure rumbles in my tum

And I realise I have not eaten since dawn

Blast these Critters

I brought with me rations of course

And traps for hares and birds

It takes a steady hand and gentle touch to bag a buck

Drat, I snapped another line

I have with me not weapons nor the will to kill

But I know every berry, leaf, and fungus available to me by site

It is possible herbology was not a pointless coursework indeed

A Bedroll in Thickets

How best to fend oneself while asleep?

Why crawl beneath a thicket bush and nature shall preserve you

Even a thief knows not to stick their hands in a thorny thatch

But remember where you are when you wake

I’ve torn my face by rising too eager

Red Roofs like Amber

I’ve done it!

A day’s journey to be had

Travelling further on foot than I’ve ever dared

A harvest and bounty of berries and elm

I’m a survivor of the night and approach this town a stranger

Outsider, Outsider

A night as black as the banner that flies,

A moon as sharp as the banner that flies,

My stomach rumbles and I smell mushroom stew

Emanating from the windows of the boars head tavern

What is Money if not Everything

I have with me some gold, from clerk work as one does

But how far can I get… I wonder…

As a rogue or vagabond

A pinch of bread and cup of ale can’t be too hard if the drunkards get to it

Just casually reach out…

Pain as Experienced by a Thief

They are upon me sooner than I touched the crust

Where pummeling bare hands beat down on me

With staffs they thrust

I’m winded and wounded and left for dead

But I’m a derelict now, I secured my feast

I have stolen some bread



I’m sure you’d be way fairer

had you studied sleight of hand

Recovery Comes Quick

When you black out in the alleys

Between the houses of a homoeopathic banner

I dream of trees, mushrooms, and berries

And wake in the fields with rations full

There are fairies in the air at dusk

That glow and ebb to darkness


I have gone the farthest I’ve ever gone

Far from my father and his throne

And looking back I cannot see a reason to stop now

Agehood of a Man

My lip is split and eye is dark

I stand cliffside and yell into open void

I am beat and broken and for it all the more alive

End of Chapter 1