'Tis all journey

'Under a stinky frozen storm, the damp clung to my pumping heart, of which hastened my crimson blood to float into my freezing limbs of four, as there's but solid ground where not a straw nor leaf could be grown, for it was shrouded by an ultimate sense of grave darkness, and there's one thing that could block the light, be it not cloud, be it not mountain. 'Tis a fearsome, enormous wings of a pterodactyl. The dragon, is an indestructible fortress under a tornado, is a grand volcanic valley in a peaceful village, and is a pest to all nature. Its name is 'The Red Longo'. A creature skinned in human blood, with his great claws snatching the withered soil, its silhouette shaded every single struck of levin, and his yellow iris were staring at me, an unarmed human as a little tiny ant. 'The man said.

''Tis a history making!' 'What happened next?' asked some sitting around the man, ''Tis all journey.' Then he strolled out the wrecked wooden cabin.

In the latter era, the unbridled nature spread along this place,'Alstar Land'. Kingdoms were ruled by King, regions of humankind activities occupied half of the landscape and pure forests and hills.

Nearly nobody was ventured enough to wander beyond a great concrete castle wall, excluding the patriotic military personnel, with a shimmering bronze armor, and a belted sword, as a coat of mail, serving on sentry duty before the way castles along the mountain route all day long. Otherwise, none would show up in these mounds nor fields but only were they, bandits or thieves. I am particularly fond of mountain climbing since I am averse to stay put in a castle with my crew. I often identified me as 'Seekers' myself; I had traveled countries to countries seeking for treasures and gold with my followers.

We had our notations every round the famous spots of which were well-known as places of hidden treasures, most were risky and worthy. Last time, we had crossed above the 'Red Stone Waterfall', which was a gigantic fall with an imposing view from the outside and a more impressive priceless object laid inside, but it was just a theory perhaps. I had tried to prove it, but I almost drowned myself on that day. Fortunately, Pablo, one of my crew, rescued my life, a ruthless muscle with his unavoidably dense facial hair from ear to ear, and a naive brain inserted with curiosity. Most reckoned him as 'Dummy Giant'. He seemed that he has been misunderstanding the sarcasm of the name, but no one was willing to accord it, neither was I.

Also, thanks to another diehard friend, Elvar was rolling the same boat with us and always suggesting information and knowledge to us for indications of directions and strategies. He was a rare reticent intellectual who ran backward from the scholars but realizing himself was marvelously strength in numbers, and just dying for the temporary invigoration of being a tomb raider.

The threesome of us were distinct from the rogue, we had agreed not to scathe nor loot from commoners. The earnings of our fame climbed, as well as our acquisition. I, Pablo, Elvar, we cheered, we had burst of laughter, we prayed, we stood on each other's shoulders, we sang, and we sought.

'Oh... What a pity.'Elvar grumbled.

''Tis all journey, folks, all journey.' I was climbing to get away from the exterior of this forgotten gloomy cave with a small pouch of coins on my backbone piled upon my rusty sword, of which was the only valuable throughout this journey.

'What's the meaning of that?' Pablo questioned, paying no attention.

'Again?' Elvar teased with a silenced tittering.

'Have you been forgetting, yet? 'Tis our maxim.' I explained gently while I was leaping through a shallow river by a few stepping stones jutted, 'Well, ancient for long, there was a mystic knight wearing a mask, never being known, and seldom being spotted but whenever and whither he appeared, he shall be welcomed, for he would bring treasures to cities. Sometimes money from the thieves hidden in mountains, sometimes sundry, and sometimes the dragon's horror stories. 'I delivered the words with a deep pitch. Meanwhile, out of alert, we had already overcome the 'Maudon Wet Land', an untamed wet woods.