My Glorious Journey to Battles of Boredom



My eyes opened in a Super 8 castle in the land of Westbrook after a weekend of celebrating a successful campaign for my masters. The sun was not shining at this time of the day but I knew God's grace was to guide me on this journey. My significant other was already for the start of travels. I hastily packed nervously unaware of what the days journey held for me. Walking out the great hall into a welcoming chamber we returned the key to our abode's door.



My trustworthy steed named Greyhound waited for me to mount him yet there was a small problem: neither me nor my lover knew of his location. Luckily the key keepers knew and instructed us perfectly before we departed. After a mournful journey we arrived at Greyhound's stable and had to bid farewell for my lover's journey took a different path to South Portland where three trials awaited them. I had to wait for Greyhound's caring rider to arrive and when they did I found my journey was to be joined by seven pilgrims.



My rider also was paid quite well to be the expert so I allowed him to keep his seat. So all eight of us climbed aboard the talented Greyhound and rode to Lewiston. Along the way my job as protector was easy for I slept soundly without interruption. Sure, when we arrived in Lewiston some had lost faith in me and departed for their own ways, but the journey had to continue. Arriving in Augusta I dedicated myself to protecting these people in such dangerous lands. I reviewed my tablet containing my mission at the stable in Augusta. Yes, indeed, I would continue with the convoy through Waterville and into Bangor.



We hastily left Augusta on word the rulers of the land had awoken and were gathering. The scent of such an occurrence is rumored to be worse than that of a rotting dragon's corpse. So we sped off and along the way I made use of my tablet with a tool helping me plot my future: Sengoku. The pilgrims remaining were sleeping in the safety of my presence and so had not a care to my mischief. Coming upon the uneventful village of Waterville we chose to simply keep riding past and so it came to pass that Waterville's pilgrims rode a different horse this day.



It was finally time to arrive in Bangor to great fanfare. My people would surely welcome me with open arms and a banquet in the least so as to guarantee my strength in the coming battle. Dismounting from my Greyhound I saw that I was alone. Even the pilgrims were walking away without even a thank you for my protection. Even worse: I was informed I was to ride a different steed the rest of my journey.



It was that of the BAT 'buses'. This was to take me to Orono. Inquiring as to where I should find this BAT's stable I was pointed to down from the hill I was standing on. Unfortunately there were eight galloping BATS departing at that very moment without a chance for me to catch my runaway stallion. And so it came to pass that I set out on foot for a local safe house I knew of. It was that of my ancestors home and there a worthy mare was sure to be grazing. Unfortunately I was a mile from my parent's glorious hut and a further seven miles from my destination in Orono. Even worse: I had just two hours to complete my journey if I were to not forfeit the first battle of the day.



And so it came to pass that I walked down hills and up hills and between streets filled with the fastest steeds such a prosperous town could gather. The packages of my journey weighed heavy on my back as I passed many a peoples including a jester, a lawman, a taxman, and a lawyer. All of whom saw themselves as unworthy of their meager aid. I had a wish that my subjects would fear me less at times like these. Gifts to their protector were strictly forbidden and heavily taxed when permitted and thus I traveled alone with a yearning for my lover's presence and a desire to lead a coup for power right then and there.



I finally reached the hut of my ancestors and refreshed myself once again. The outhouse was put to very proper use. Further packing of supplies for my journey commenced as the lovely Chevy Malibu was fed and trimmed for the journey ahead. It was informed that rumors were afoot that I had chosen to protect lands afar on a more permanent basis. To prevent hysterics I corrected the record that this land was mine and was forever to hold a spell over my intentions. And so it came to pass that I let my enemies face a punishment of silence on the matter for the battle was merely an hour away.



The race was on and the pace of my ride was swift enough to allow a visitation to a longhouse in Orono before the crossing of the mighty Penobscot River. The outhouse was once again put to good use. My aides who were to join me in battle were unfortunately suffering from an incurable ill: sleeping in. Unable to wake my comrades I considered my own retreat but thought better of it. There was now to be more glory for me when victory finally came!



The battlefield was just across the river. Crossing it meant using one of two bridges whose guardians had slumbered too long as well. The crossing was fast and the dismounting on the campus of the University of Maine flawless... aside from the reality that upon my dismounting my stallion ran off for a greener pasture. I had no time to reacquire my steed and so meandered a path through throngs of fans towards my battle.



The enemy was boredom. For the challenge at my feet was an hour of torture: financial budget management class. The topic of the day was taxes; an enemy loathed throughout the lands but one which I was also sworn to protect in my master's name should such a calling be needed. Unfortunately my master's taxes not only needed protection but mastering in and of their own. The master was not flawed in this, mind you. There were simply of old age and suffering from dementia which made translating their whims quite difficult. However it was my duty to press on with this battle and carry out the master's orders.



And so it came to pass that I sat, and listened, and avoided Sengoku for an hour. I rose to my feet upon completion to sit back down again from exhaustion. A wound of some sort made the world spin for a minute and I decided to investigate a witch I had been informed of weeks earlier as the cause. However it would occur at another time for I would need to regain my strength.



I traveled across the campus to a neutral territory: the Onward lounge. My caste was that of Onward; a noble brand of students selected for diversity, originality, and lineage. I arrived to find it empty but plentiful with food. Dispensing of money I had no need of I feasted and not only became strong but also awake. A greater challenge awaited me in four hours: a two and a half hour class on Constitutional Law. While these ramblings of my leaders were more coherent and understandable the duration of the battle added to the torture.



A few pilgrims migrated towards the food thanking me for my services for them; or at least I wish they had. Loneliness was the pattern of these four hours. Luckily I plotted my way to control of Northern Japan in Sengoku in this time. I also witnessed the French win in Vietnam in a board game known as Supreme Ruler: Cold War. While I certainly wanted to become a supreme ruler and feared no war I had no interest in fighting a cold one for the Scandinavian lands or worse.



So it came to pass that I traveled to Roger's Hall to be lectured from an elder for two and a half hours on the master's supreme laws. I arrived early so as to prepare my weapons. Two parchments and my chisel sat beside my tablet of Sengoku. I was merely 4 percent from being able to declare myself as Shogun however I was forced to disband my tablet at the elder's orders.



And so it came to pass that boredom surrounded me as the rulings of the Supreme Court of the land were discussed. I rose to my feet and stumbled down the marble staircase out of the hall and into the darkness that was night. I was victorious. Not only had I survived I had mastered the enemy. However there is always one more tale in a journey after the victory: that of the victory lap.



I had to take mine on foot. For two miles in fact. My hut in Orono was across the river and during the day a swarm of spiders had taken over the bridge. The rails were covered in webs as I crossed avoiding the spiders as much as possible. Their long legs and dangerous fangs were pronounced by the torches above the road. The water below was not moving swiftly enough to possibly kick them to their drowning deaths.



I finally traverse up a hill after the bridge and cross through sorrow land: it was a mere pit in appearance. In reality it was a reminder of a once great structure that had burned down the year before. From there I went up and down hills towards my miniature hut village known as a 'trailer park'. I expected glorious celebrations and possibly a mistress upon my arrival however it was once again a thankless task that I had done on this day. However I had gotten word a courier who I aid in the mornings in a delivery of news to the neighboring villages had been attacked brutally in my absence. However this news made for an interesting tomorrow it unfortunately meant the time of midnight had been struck and the candle's lights were out on this day in my life.