No one knows the day nor the hour that their demise will come.Nor does each know what pathway or sunny slope or foggy ravine that will become the spot in which he will breath his last. The best we can hope for is to have our name remembered, perhaps even be immortalized by some great deed or deeds. And yet, even then, a great deed or deeds is not enough to have anyone of us live forever. No, all of us must come onto the scene of life and pass this way but once. But to be remembered is... well shall I say, how we are remembered is really the important aspect of anyone's existence here. Books are filled with the names of those who have passed this way in times past and left their mark on the pages of history. Some have been immortalized with those great deeds of renown and some by their ignominious absence or betrayal of the valiant. But so, whether through fame or scandal, heroics or cowardice, people are remembered, their names remembered. However, and might I add, many times throughout history, the names of some are forgotten. Having lived their lives in obscurity, no one takes the time to write their names in books.. but yet they all have or had names. Either burnt into a piece of wood or etched in stone, their name lives on. But, alas, their are those, who fall, whose lfie force has ended, the unnamed. Such is my story of such a one, an unnamed. I happened upon him as I traveled the winding roads of the lost lands. He lay sprawled out on his back, stripped of all his earthly belongings. "Hmmm, poor soul," my companion spoke softly as we rode into view of the dead man. It was a somber moment as we stopped to see about taking care of this one fallen by the wayside. He was clearly past the point of all human help, his spirit gone from the place his body lay. I spoke softly, "We should see to this man getting a proper burial." "Aye," Lord Geoffrey replied. We dismounted and wrapped the body in my bedroll and tied him over the back of Geoffrey's horse. "Wonder how he came to his end?" "Tis hard to tell," I replied. Solemnly and a little slower we continued our journey up the winding road and into the town of Delucia. "There's no proper place to lay him to rest here. We will have to pass throught the caverns and out of this land." "Indeed," stated Geoffrey, " he should be interned in a cemetary. Passing through the caverns, we came out into the sunlight and green again. We made for the cemetary. Geoffrey held back the evil hordes as i laid the man in his final resting place. "I am so sorry I don't know his name. Should we just mark the grave Unknown?" I asked. "Nay," Geoffrey retorted. " Let us call him John Doe." "Allright, John Doe it is." I etched his name in the stone and slowly stood. As I walked to my mount, I saw a satirical smile on Geoffrey's face. "Look, Oni." He was pointing at another grave stone. Etched in the stone was. "Here lies John Doe, may he rest in peace, whoever he is." I turned back to the stone I had just inscribed. "Rest in Peace, John Doe.... You are part of the unnamed.
