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John Locke

THE RANGER'S TALE

The March of the MacGregors

These were the days of peace? I suppose they were, as Taowyn, Silly and the Nosse sung songs that echoed through the passive grasslands of the Drojf isthmus. I hummed their tunes as I marched southward toward Krif Hills North, the fabled home of the MacGregor Clan. I escorted Lady Pain, wounded by bandits in Mulof North. These were the bloodless days? I suppose they were, for I saw no visible scars of violence inflicted upon the alleged victim, Lady Pain.

Nonetheless, I obeyed the directions Deputy Ranger Selena Dyon had issued to me. She sent me out on what would become my baptism by fire. This baptism was experienced by all who had preceded me, the heroes of old, who had hiked the trails for goodness and fought the righteous battles in the pursuit of peace. Now, here I was, to fill the vacuum of these legendary men and women, lost to the years of war. The prodigy of their lives left nothing short of an enthused inspiration in me to defend these fragile days of peace as a Ranger.

Quarry-mined stones stood together in unison of quaint design, forming the exterior of Castle MacGregor, outlined through the dawning pinks of the twilight. This deliberate symbol of outstanding pride, honor, and courage, was carried not only by the structures, but those who manned its ramparts. My impressionable juvenility felt humbled upon receiving a saber from Kindle MacGregor. Whether it was her active physique or managerial quality which grabbed the eye, I could not distinguish what it was I found so appealing about Kindle. I scrunched up my rationed nourishments and prepared for the expedition at hand, against the bandits who struck Lady Pain. These creatures, which rest on the darker, latter side of the fine line between virtue and wickedness, would face the wrath of my duty.

Glen Morangie and Bootsher MacGregor also joined me on this expedition, to reclaim the honor of Lady Pain. Their crossbows slung across their boastful chests as they mouthed away. I held the point position, not necessarily because I was the youngest, or the Ranger, but rather, out of irritation due to their constant chattering. This prattling was nothing except mutual praise between the two braggarts, who would arrive late enough for battle, caught up in their throats when battle finally was before them. Lady Pain had been a quiet accompaniment in the quest, though on arrival, she was quick enough to point the accused out amongst the sparse populace.

Those few who had been indicated, failed to respond, and we made our ultimatum clear, reverberated by the now collective voice of our two trailing battle companions. Finally, violence broke out, and although I don't remember which side swung first, we definitely had the final blow. In the course of the battle sequence, as short as it ultimately was, I was able to hone my saber into a sheet metal of justice. It swung precisely from foe to foe, without remorse, for they had wronged and refused to cooperate. Blood spilt profusely from these bandits, as we set their souls free from woeful bodies of guilt.

The March of the MacGregors was now done and over, and we made our ways home. Having honed the skill of battle so proficiently, I didn`t take the time to smell the flowers or lilt amongst the shrubs. I hurried back to Selena with anxious anticipation, to report our outstanding success. However, on my way back, I was astonished to see the corpse of Lady Pain on the side of the road. There was going to be no dwelling on this misfortune, so I did my best to remain in a high of confidence. On that day, I felt that I was well on my way in my destiny...of rooting out trouble and maintaining peace. There would be many more trials to come, for which I had to prepare for.

Besides a quiet promotion to Deputy, there was no majestic medal, no stack of steel, and no cheering crowds upon my return. A Ranger receives none of those, I soon learned, and what drives us, isn't fame nor fortune, but a call to duty. It's what we honor, what we behold as our noble role, and what we will do to preserve it. A Ranger is forever giving, forever unsung, and forever convicted to keeping the fragile peace we now know, through years of war.

In Drojf, carrots were replenished, arrows were restocked, and the path of life lay in front of me, unobstructed, and optimistic. I met up once again with the Nosse้ and the Drojf Council, consisting of Nessa Allire, Jake McGee, and Joram Traske. The road to Djorf Hills South was one that covered fields of green. I saw the random corpse, an ominous reminder of the past, in the serene ruffling of the grass. The lucid lake lay to my southwest, as the shifting seas rose and dropped to my northeast, with the sun setting in a gradient of wild orange hues.

Seatown Road

Looking back on it today, I wonder how many times I have been down this road, a focal point of transportation, communication, and information. It's the busiest road I've ever seen: Seatown Road. Improved during war, yet it had its peacetime uses. Merchants, postmen, and still, simple travelers journeyed down this timeworn road. I know it like the back of my hand. In Djorf Hills South, the Dark Legion Fortress is yet another reminder of the Region's bloody past. Its dark fac็ade is inhospitable and unreceptive. As I looked off to the west, I remembered reading about how Silverfoot had reportedly murdered residents of Djorf Hills West with her garrison of Krif Defense Force personnel, as headlined in Issue Two of the Informant Magazine, by Thomas Smith. The third issue of the periodical publishing criticized the Rangers as a bunch of "dirty pigs. Now, the Rangers are using their so called might to bring fear and to cheat the people they are supposed to be protecting," instilling nothing short of outrage. All the same, it made me skeptical of what this Thomas Smith was publishing and what he sought to achieve, besides greater Regional turbulence. Compounding this, the article about Silverfoot came from Rory MacGregor, a future pirate who massacred the town of Krif after the battle cry, "Cry Havoc!" The magazine asked Rory before turning sides, "What goals do you have for the future?" and he replied, "Build my Fortress, and start a mercenary band." Despite this clear warning, nobody in the Region acted to pre-empt him, as too often the case.

I soon found myself in the lovely town of Djorf Hills North. Governor Devon Dobbs, my lifelong best friend, was co-owner of Dobbs' fast food. During our discourse, I suggested to him that he take political sovereignty of the Northern Hills, which he later did. After this enjoyable conversation, I left with the promise I`d return to this small, loving, and faithful community, whose roots were deep and spawned rich leaves of friendship. The beach was beautiful. Oh, how I'd love to settle here...I thought to myself over and over. For now though, I had to make my way to meet the legendary Maily Yumm of Seatown Forest. It was to satiate a curiosity that had emerged, to learn if Maily Yumm was a greedy dictator who controlled iron for profit as some implied, or was a compassionate being who led with the power of her actions. I pondered this as I dawdled northward, accumulating the modest gift of meat and wool to present as a symbol of goodwill.

Having presented my humble gift as generously as I could, I quickly learned that Maily Yumm was warm and hospitable. This 'Whirlwind' of a lady, as Taowyn described her, was the exact opposite of the Djorf Hills South building I saw on the way down, and for what it stood for. Seatown Forest was a sight to see, home of warriors of the likes of James DeLeo; a town organized systematically to every nook and cranny, by the work of Maily, and her predecessor, Donna Trent. Maily asked me if I needed a better blade, and she presented me one on request. Maily was charitable and concerned with the Ranger Corps, wielding her strength and power to support it. The Corps was her brainchild, to keep intact the days of peace, which we have come to know.

During my time in Seatown Forest, I operated in an observing capacity, as Seatown Forest already had such an effective defense. I listened in on a meeting, which included Joram Traske, Maily Yumm, Alicia Reed, and Silverfoot, in dealing with the issue of Alicia Scarlet, who allegedly betrayed Krif. The past councilor, Alicia Scarlet, admitted to charges of hiring Rory MacGregor to "cry havoc" upon Krif, by using the Stormbringer longboat. Maynard was invited to Seatown Forest for her execution, though whether it was just a trap to bring this reputed evil mastermind to someplace where his legacy could be ended is an issue to be debated elsewhere. Silverfoot was later exonerated from the false charges that the late Rory produced, and the Informant Magazine has since gained credibility in the Region.

I remained stationed in Seatown Forest whilst a case was being built against Maynard. He was accused of creating a criminal enterprise and supporting piracy. His criminal activities were investigated, and the evidence amounted against him. Meanwhile, I journeyed up to the road to Krif when delivering a letter. While taking the short trek on that road, Councilor Lucious Blackheart cried out for assistance. Assailants had attacked Krif, by the name of Valentine, Richard and Mathew Hardy. When I was alerted of the massacre, I proceeded to attack Mathew Hardy without a second thought, for his murders. He fell to the ground like a stone as the scale of justice weighed heavily upon him. I proceeded to send out word of the butchery under the second article of the Corps' covenant, which would later be replaced by the GM postal service. Many people died in the massacre, and their bodies took days to bury. In the meantime, I returned to my duty station in Seatown Forest. I would learn of other massacres in Krif, instigated by people like the very same person who called the Rangers a "bunch of filthy pigs." Names of such scum escape me.

Seatown Forest possessed some of the most valuable resources of the time, from iron to coal, wood and even silk cocoons. At that time, my appetite for silk cocoons began and I started munching on these delightful delicacies. Unfortunately, not many others shared this craving. On one of my excursions out of the forest, I met my lifelong colleague and friend, Deputy Thomas Petty. We worked together for a short while, operating as a two-person Ranger team. One day, we found the body of Deputy Mae Castillo in the Dark Legion Fortress. She was later immortalized in a poem written by Taowyn of the Noss้e. After this horrific find, I learned to appreciate the time I had with my friends. Nevertheless, there was something of vast importance that needed to be done in Djorf Hills West, before I could settle.

Necessary Conviction-by Maily Yumm

Where have all the heroes gone?

Returned to where they`re from.

They brought these peaceful lives for us,

But what have they become?

Those bloody days. Selfless acts of giving

Those who paid with life are forgotten and unsung.

The peaceful times we`ve come to know,

Have only recently begun.

Have we learned well from the past,

Or will this be undone?

Those bloody days. Necessary conviction.

Some have lost by giving,

For they have gone unsung.

And if those bloody days come again,

Should heroes help the young?

Should they have to pay once more,

When they have gone unsung?

Bloodshed

Sometimes to keep the peace, we must war or work to pre-empt, as learned the hard way with the infamous outcome of Rory MacGregor. Maily Yumm, Caitlin MacGrioghair, Devon Dobbs, and I intercepted Maynard Leeward in Djorf Hills West. I don't think the silk cocoons affected my judgment as I acted upon Maily's ultimatum on day seven hundred thirty three, hour five: "This man killed off Krif's old Council, as well as the Council of Drojf, leaders in the Seatown area and also innocent people all across the Region. Everyone wants him dead, and today would be as good a day as any. He is setting up some very nasty things in this Region and I will be more than happy to detail these things. If you care about your friends and your homes, then help kill him."

He was executed swiftly, the final proof of his questionable activities culminating in a 'shit-list' of important Regional figures he was planning to hit off. We were a hundred percent, and then some, behind the set course of Maily, "I'll probably die for killing Maynard. There is almost no way in hell that I will not die for it. It's worth it to me though, and I'll never fucking regret it. Some things are worth more than power, and some things are worth more than living. The heroes of the past didn't know that some things were left unfinished. They did their part, and they paid dearly for it. It's sad to me that so many people don't even know how much people standing right next to them did."

We were not going to let her down, as Devon put it, "That was some speech, Maily. Very moving. I guess the bloody days have come again. And the heroes are helping the young, by ridding this Region of the same evil that prevailed back in the old days. One could say we're doing it for the unsung as well. So their efforts won't have been for naught."

On the way home, we took an extended route, from Djorf Hills West around to Seatown Gardens and finally arriving in Seatown Forest. Though I had promised Caitlin, who had struck the final blow in the attack on Maynard, a ride back to her home under armed escort; Glen Morangie gladly relieved me of this duty in pursuit of his sexual desires with the young lady. I was otherwise taken, for I had begun courting Sulee Maronia, who joined our traveling group.

We had stirred up a hornet's nest. Tensions rose and we were under a potential risk, but it was necessary. I attended a meeting in Drojf after this operation, to express our infinitesimal support of Maily Yumm. My respect for Maily cannot be expressed within my limited vocabulary. I would follow Maily Yumm to the grave, if she asked me to. But, she would never ask anyone to do that, besides herself. When the meeting ended, I was promoted from Deputy of Seatown Forest, becoming Guardian of Djorf Hills North. I could now spend much more time with my friends, and with my fiance้e, Sulee Maronia, but she sadly passed away days after preparing our vows.

Upon my initial return to Djorf Hills North with Devon Dobbs, we faced a minor crisis. Draco Dawn Droufis, a pirate, had attacked traveling Noss้ members in the town. We had to stabilize the situation immediately, before proceeding further. Cassandra Camille, Chanel Davis, Angie, and Haldir Lorean were all victims of his attack, though they all recovered. The culprit escaped, but I declared that I would have my revenge for these dastardly attacks on the innocent. This incident followed Rory's raid by a couple of years, and would be the precursor of Calico Jack's attacks. Calico and his evil companions, Yahsmina and William Peregrine, harassed our coastline mercilessly. We convened a Regional meeting to deal with them. The meetings, as they often are, were all futile.

In the midst of this pirate problem, Maily Yumm led a Regional effort to Pak, to end the source of the problem. She would not return alive. I was troubled as the last words that I had said to her before parting ways echoed in my mind, "Have you lost your will to live?" Vender Ghost would've been Maily's husband, had she returned. He became a great friend of mine when we shared the town of Djorf North Hills together as neighbors. He told me of the older generation, and of the Smoke Jaguars, Craktar, Fuktar, Maynard, Nathan Holmes and other infamous figures. On the other hand, his stories of heroism appealed to me more, and the one that struck me was not Gregor MacGregor's or William Lawson as he was once referred to as founding of Clan MacGregor and being the first leader of the Rangers, but El Adan`s protection of his family, the Nosse้, when faced with the horror of the Smoke Jaguars. Perhaps that left some lasting desire to one day follow in his footsteps, as a father figure. The peace long sought by El Adan wasn't going to be taken away by a bunch of filthy pirates. I would fight in the names of these heroes, as a Ranger. And my duty would not accept anything short of victory from these pathetic pirates.

In Drojf, I met Lilah Morgan during a Regional meeting dealing with the pirates. We hit it off quickly, beginning a serious and romantic relationship. We became companions in our journeys and shared our deal of adventures. We lived for a while in Djorf Hills North, as Eve Desmond became close with my late friend, Solofus the Healer. Devon was with Ella Merrick, the new Governess of the Hills, after the passing of his wife, Eldarwen. Lilah was an entrusted person in Seatown Forest, which was very respectable. The new leader of Seatown Forest, after Maily's resignation and passing, was Alicia Reed, who was given the task of filling the large vacuum of Maily's footsteps. I considered her a good friend, but was gravely mistaken when I sought her assistance in matters of Regional stability. Deep inside, the death of Sulee had bitten away and started to tear at my heart. This never allowed Lilah and me to be wed. We carried on with our exploits, adventures, and quests. On one occasion, whilst chasing Calico Jack with Rachel Williams, the latter docked and locked me inside...while there was a mad Mara Jade murderer outside. I couldn't say much for Rachel's competence. In hindsight, it was rather humorous, and of course, I made the most of the time with Lilah. Mara Jade was brought to justice, but after the event, certain miscreants tried to stain Gary's record for greed and gold. Mamey Dwyer, our mutual friend, joined us on some of the journeys, a constant tease and joy to be around; she was last seen in the mountains with X, a friend of Lord Archorn of Djorf Hills West. Lilah Morgan would pass on after our venture into Pok Southern Mountains, and was laid to rest in Krif Hills West. I was not able to recover all her belongings, as the indigenous bandits denied me the possession of the diamonds, healing foods and rare animal parts she had carried. Material concerns were not priority, so I left with my grief.

Tension

I returned to my duty station at Djorf Hills North, under the watch of late Deputy Radjan Adaven, and my return, was to peace and stability. The untimely passing of Solofus was passed on to me and I briefly consoled my friend Eve. I had a short-lived relationship with Synchronicity O'Shea that came too suddenly on the heels of the other two women in my life. My heart was leaking, and I was doing all I could from letting loose all its blood. Duty called and I was placed on alert when Gregor threatened that he would kill anyone older than thirty. I headed towards Krif, in response.

Joram Traske was there, with his new wife, Lisette Harris. They were a lovely couple, whose honeymoon was cut short due to this Regional crisis. Silverfoot and Gary stood on two radically different sides of the issue. Joram and I stood in the middle, attempting to moderate. Gary was much more condoning of the MacGregor's actions, as it did come in response to the simultaneous passing of two MacGregor Ladies under mysterious circumstances. Silverfoot on the other hand, had a legitimate concern that someone who threatened the lives she was responsible for should not be a Regional ruler. The outcome of Gregor's threat was the creation of a great divide between the MacGregor Clan and the rest of the Mid-North Union, one that took years to be bridged.

Immediately following the tension between the Clan and the Region, was the conclusion of Calico's reign, dying on his own accord. Krif was unable to act in sufficient speed when Maude gallantly brought the Stormbringer to its shores, with his surviving cohort, Yahsmina, aboard. I initiated an operation to capture Yahsmina, who stole the Eldarwen Essence with both Eve Desmond and Kinley Heath on the ship. The latter was Devon Dobbs' first mate, and perhaps a bit more in the eyes of my close friend. In the events that ensued, Kinley opened the questionable idea of having Djorf Hills North take jurisdiction of Yahsmina. However, Eve quickly brought the ship back to Krif's Harbor, where I called into action a team of very able Krif volunteers. These included my new good friends, Chris Myst, and his love: Magdalene Porthos. Yahsmina was soon apprehended, and Eve's courage drew an impression of deep admiration from my heart. She was someone worth revisiting intimately, after returning from Krif Hills West to fix things once and for all....

When I finally got back home to Djorf Hills North, I began an intense relationship with the Chancellor of Djorf Hills North, Eve Desmond, flirting with metaphors straight from the heart and poems borrowed from the inspiration of the stars of the night sky, which I had never taken the time to look at, before now, before Eve. With her, I discovered the way to more profound depths of self, of love, of being, of presence, of life. We would continue to be nearly inseparable, even if we didn't meet eye to eye on all the issues in our lives, all that mattered was we ended up together. I have to credit the two of us of being able to take and give some, for the greater good of making the two of us into one. And the one, who ultimately would become the symbol of our combined love, would be our son, Sean Warren Locke, who carried on as a Ranger, in his father's footsteps.

On my forty-first birthday, a Regional Meeting was called forth, and I participated actively in it. Gregor began the meeting by speaking of coincidences, and drawing seemingly unfounded connections between Councilor Rachel William Big and Drojfian Councilor Joram Traske in scheming the untimely passing of Gregor's wife, Jessamin DuVar. Lord MacGregor also went on to accuse Rachel of hiring Kiefer Sutherland to attack Krif Hills North, as the contractor attested to after being captured during his botched raid. Joram, in his state of mourning for his own wife, Lisette, was still strong enough to vehemently deny Gregor's charges. When I demanded Rachel to be brought forward for questioning, in order to appease Gregor's concerns, Silverfoot went to check for the sleeping Councilor, only to find Rachel dead. Coincidence or conspiracy? I could speculate, like Gregor did, but even when I did consult Gregor privately about the matter of Rachel's passing being so convenient for hiding the real truth, nothing became of it.

The end of an era of piracy came as the one whom had attacked Maily Yumm in Seatown and my friends of the Nosse้ many years back, Draco Dawn Droufis, was brought to justice. He would later admit to being funded by the evil mastermind, Maynard Leeward, upon questioning. Captain Aeren Aeglos and myself, along with Gard Ulker, worked together to end his reign of sea borne terror. We broke the lock to his ship, the Agamemnon, in record luck and time. Aeren jumped aboard, threw Draco off his ship, and I grabbed him by the neck, and tossed him inside the Black Fortress, with some help from Gard. After our successful operation, the town would jump on the opportunity to debate what should be done with Draco, even as he was still breaking down our jail locks, requiring us to move him from building to building. Devon Dobbs found it to be his moral obligation to spare the old pirate, having him rehabilitated to serve the town of Djorf Hills North. To avoid displaying my frustration outwardly, I veiled my true annoyance at Devon's decision with a visit to Drojf, as they prepared for their upcoming festival.

Not Nearly The End

Just because I have ended my novel on paper, for a second time with this redux, does not mean my life`s adventure, my life`s work and my life`s loving, that being solely reserved for my wife, Eve Desmond Locke, is over. I officially vowed in the declaration of marriage, my ineffable feeling of affection, solicitude, fondness, desire and attraction for Eve Desmond, on the day one thousand, seventy. I could write 20 paragraphs on my story, and not nearly sufficiently mention how intensely intertwined and enormously essential she is to me, for that is beyond adjectives, beyond words, beyond phrases; the structure of language is incapable of handling such a prodigious human emotion, take my tried word for it. If you share this mutual wealth of enthusiasm, euphoria and ecstasy, for another, then you know exactly where I`m coming from in my ineptness of man, to give this trial of passion, justice, despite it being my life`s work to have enforced the will of justice, for nearly 30, loyal, dedicated and proud years, as a Ranger. As my vocabulary begins to falter on its nonexistent foundation of schooling, I do emphasize that is something we lack in our society, the will, the determination and the persistence in the name of peace, to provide for institutions of education, so this peace can live forever. Even with the passing on of friends, like Silly and Cassandra, I don`t see an end to this peace, as long as their spirit carries on....

A Farewell Address

"Perhaps this is the cliched ramblings of a man worn old by time, upbringing, and ideology, which has no influence or worth today. If this is what you believe, then all my years as a Ranger have proven both a success and failure, all very same. A success, immeasurable and unquantifiable for it is indeed abstract, and to put it into words that are read and felt is as hard as the trials we have faced. The Rangers, an organization I have served actively and continuously for the last forty years, have achieved a level of security and stability that the people of this Union can live in safety, without wondering how or why it is possible."

"And in that is our failure, our failure to teach, our failure to learn, our failure to appreciate those who have honored the call of duty, commemorating the heroes of old, the Rangers of today, the spirit in which they work, live, and die for. There is a strange duality to it, much like the dualities hallmarking the choices of life, of choosing justice over crime, right over wrong, and of good over evil. For those who do not doubt the worth of these words, then they understand that the defining line has always been the Rangers, the "thin green line" that decisively divides through the ambiguity."

"In any case, our accomplishments have been very real since our dawning in the creation of this Union. Those chronicled in the morning rise of the "Ranger's Tale", only include the first twenty years of my duty; the next ten drawing their perspective outward to be covered by "Echoes of a Life Lived"; until high noon, when the final ten years of afternoon glory were scribed in the "Compilation of Regional Song and Poetry", guarding the Region at large. The Rangers' achievements over the last ten years, for which I have led, whether as de facto or actual Leader, has resulted in the tangible increase of our overall force, a revised Ranger Charter, a permanent Ranger posted for each Mid-North town, the more than doubling of our vehicular capabilities, the proliferation of Ranger equipment due to the creation of the Engineers, and finally, the intangible spirit of good-will that helped repair the bridge between Clan MacGregor and the rest of the Union. Whereas that relationship is the backbone of the Region's stability; the other pole, absent, remains in its tyrannical chains, keeping us from 'True Unity'."

"'True Unity' is a term both controversial, but inevitable. Our course, by the signals of these festivals, the sharing of our spirit, the liberties we desire, the justice of fairness through out all the lands, and most importantly, the unity through strength, where in such a case, the Union may prove to need to be more, a grander Republic, perhaps. This will not happen in my lifetime, not due to my reactionary bones or those like me, but that the time will depend on circumstance, reason, and need. And in that time, I expect the Rangers to be there, uncorrupted by politics, doing what they have always done, the one thing that counts, defending the dream that is the future of the Union."

"So carry onward Rangers, "Give a hundred percent, and then some," I will say now still, as I take my retirement from the Corps. The years have been hard and have been rough and have been challenging, for the problems, the issues, the divisions we have faced; and more importantly, those we have overcome. I stand today, before you, the people of the Mid-North Union, a man whose toll has been taken from him, who can give no more, no better, no harder in this age that has come to him so quickly, to ask of you to accept his decision. It is indeed one of those dualities, those choices of life that I brought up earlier, and remind you of again, which has led me to this impromptu speech on my sixtieth birthday, and to choose now, perhaps selfishly so, but necessarily so, to give my wife the dear attention she has deserved for so long. And it is also time for me to step aside for the younger blood of today, of that which the wisest leaders of them all, Maily Yumm, hoped and dreamt would be able to, by our olden example, to take the charge into tomorrow's day."

"As my last action as Leader of the Rangers, I will appoint Senior Deputy Ranger Jonson to Guardianship, and have him assist Guardian Turin Turambar in the co-provisional Ranger authority until the Mid-North Union decides at their next meeting of who it is that should permanently "lead the way" from today. Rangers, forever unsung, forever giving, forever intangible, lend your ears to your leader's words one last time, and rest him assured, that you will stand where he stood before, in all the yesterdays--"protecting the weak and the oppressed." There is only way to do this though, and that is by going out there and taking the challenges with open arms, but prepared, as they will not always come to you at the moment of your choosing."

"This evening's dusk echoes my final words to you, Rangers, for by nightfall, I am no longer your Leader, so let them be of comfort: I want you to know that when I take truly to the sea, my last conscious thoughts will be of the Corps, and the Corps, and the Corps . . . I bid you farewell."

Locke Commentary

In commenting on John Locke's (621-1502) Farewell Address, we are discussing the progress of the Krif-Drojf-Seatown (MidNorth) area in realizing Cantr's original intention as a society simulator. The beginning of Locke's life reflected on the times, an illusional sensation of peace and idealism (i.e. good vs. evil, right vs. wrong) that resolved out of the years of war, lawlessness, and governmental instability or anarchy. Out of this came history and culture, such as the legend of the Magnificent Seven and the creation of Clan MacGregor, and eventually the MidNorth Union and the Ranger Corps. Locke became a part of this new era, as optimistically written about in his early work, The Ranger's Tale.

However, what was chronicled then in grand illusionment began to falter like the foundation of the MidNorth. Similar to their real life multinational organization counterparts (e.g. The League of Nations, the United Nations), past and present, the MidNorth Union has faced its deal of faults, cases of corruption and general lack of power to pursue its virtuous intention. This then transcended into the operation of the Ranger Corps, though still relatively untainted by the time of Locke's retirement in the transcribed speech.

The following years consisted of Locke's disillusionment in the dreamworld that had been imagined, losing faith not only in the Union but his personal domain. This transpiration emphasized precisely how ingrained Locke was in the Union and how, without his role as protector and leader, he became like another old soldier, fading away. (NB: There are certain structural parallels to Douglas MacArthur's retirement speech, though in most part it is based on Cantr themes. For example, it is in seven paragraphs because there are seven points to the Ranger Code.) The tragedy of his tale, compounded by treachery and lechery, became the material that stories are often written about. And in this light, Cantr has been successful in simulating society through the lives of thousands of characters interacting in hundreds of dramatic events.

Thomas Hobbes

The Return (982) - Thomas Hobbes

The Ghosts, the friends, the foes of the past climb relentlessly, determined up my shipboard mast

My memories won`t obey, they will not flee so what I say, is let them be free, and let them see

To hold your breath, and shut your mouth as if to fast in endless lies of silence, will leave only an omen to cast

My memories won`t obey, they will not flee so what I ask, is let me be free, and let me be

Will friendship regain its love and last Or will it all end in the word whose prefix is nast-

My memories won`t obey, they will not flee so what I may, is let me be seen, and let them see me

The Ghosts, the friends, the foes of the past climb relentlessly, determined up my shipboard mast!