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THE COMPETENT WAYFAYER
By Sfulda of Minoc
It was in Yew where I chanced to meet the young man, in the public room of a wayside inn. He had, he eagerly informed me, only lately quit his boyhood home in Jhelom, and was now embarking to seek his fortune on the open road.
Having spent many decades in profitable travel, I could not but approve of his resolution, risky though it might be. Yet what training, I asked him, had he undertaken to prepare himself for his chosen life's journey? Laughing, he showed me his fine, new sword, assuring me that both his skill and his courage were equal to the challenges of the road.
I'm glad to see, I told him, that you are prepared for danger, for it will surely find you. Yet that was not my question. How, I asked him again, will you feed and supply yourself on your travels? With what skills will you earn your fortune?
He seemed sorely puzzled, and again indicated his sword. He would, he told me, seek his fortune in errantry and adventure. He would win fame and wealth through the skill of his arm. Perhaps, I suggested, he should seek a military career if he wished to live off of his skill at sword play. But he only laughed at that, telling me that his spirit was too free to thrive under the constraint of military discipline. No, he said, the road and solitary adventure held his destiny.
I left my young friend greatly saddened, for I have known many like him, and they have seldom come to a good end. Life on the road is perilous indeed, but more than that it is unforgiving. The road is a harsh master, which extends no largess to those who serve it. Instead, each meal, each night spent beneath a roof, every common comfort of civilized life must be wrested from the road only with both great effort and great risk on the part of the traveler.
Herein I have compiled a catalog of those skills and arts which a traveler would find useful as he wanders the byways and wild places of the land. Neither man nor woman is wise enough to master all the disciplines I list, yet two principles I regard as certain. First, she who knows many things will prosper more than she who knows few, and he who knows a few things will prosper above him who knows but one. Second, he who masters a discipline utterly will prosper beyond him who acquires a mere passing knowledge, yet even a passing acquaintance is far preferable to ignorance.
Even so, let those who would pursue a life of travels survey my catalog, and let them consider if their own gifts are not merely sufficiently keen, but also sufficiently varied to allow them to flourish in a pursuit where so many before them have perished.
It was in Yew where I chanced to meet the young man, in the public room of a wayside inn. He had, he eagerly informed me, only lately quit his boyhood home in Jhelom, and was now embarking to seek his fortune on the open road.
Having spent many decades in profitable travel, I could not but approve of his resolution, risky though it might be. Yet what training, I asked him, had he undertaken to prepare himself for his chosen life's journey? Laughing, he showed me his fine, new sword, assuring me that both his skill and his courage were equal to the challenges of the road.
I'm glad to see, I told him, that you are prepared for danger, for it will surely find you. Yet that was not my question. How, I asked him again, will you feed and supply yourself on your travels? With what skills will you earn your fortune?
He seemed sorely puzzled, and again indicated his sword. He would, he told me, seek his fortune in errantry and adventure. He would win fame and wealth through the skill of his arm. Perhaps, I suggested, he should seek a military career if he wished to live off of his skill at sword play. But he only laughed at that, telling me that his spirit was too free to thrive under the constraint of military discipline. No, he said, the road and solitary adventure held his destiny.
I left my young friend greatly saddened, for I have known many like him, and they have seldom come to a good end. Life on the road is perilous indeed, but more than that it is unforgiving. The road is a harsh master, which extends no largess to those who serve it. Instead, each meal, each night spent beneath a roof, every common comfort of civilized life must be wrested from the road only with both great effort and great risk on the part of the traveler.
Herein I have compiled a catalog of those skills and arts which a traveler would find useful as he wanders the byways and wild places of the land. Neither man nor woman is wise enough to master all the disciplines I list, yet two principles I regard as certain. First, she who knows many things will prosper more than she who knows few, and he who knows a few things will prosper above him who knows but one. Second, he who masters a discipline utterly will prosper beyond him who acquires a mere passing knowledge, yet even a passing acquaintance is far preferable to ignorance.
Even so, let those who would pursue a life of travels survey my catalog, and let them consider if their own gifts are not merely sufficiently keen, but also sufficiently varied to allow them to flourish in a pursuit where so many before them have perished.