Perhaps I Still am The Grey Wayfarer after All.

Happy Mani’s Day!

I have been gone a while – again. But I guess, in some regards, success of a limited kind lulled me into a false sense of security. But Yesterday hit me with a lot of sudden anxiety and the depression that follows. It’s been building, but I have always, until now, been able to ignore it or put it on hold, so to speak. The Grey has long been my relabeling of a condition that I possess, which is this mixture of anxiety and depression that I seem always to be walking through and battling. Thus, the blog name: The Grey Wayfarer.

These last few months, I have felt really good in many ways. My YouTube Channel, The Rabyd Atheist, has actually developed into a supportive community and is doing well, but it could be doing better. I have almost given up on getting a promotion at work. And have, for the first time, explored my options for other employment, and it doesn’t look good. I really have put myself in a position, if I want to stay close to my family, of making writing and YouTube work along with my job. It is just that I feel a low level of anxiety about the whole thing.

Picture, if you will, a man clad in grey walking through a forest. He is accompanied by his wolves and ravens. The rain is pouring down in that way that creates gloom, and the forest shadows cause a lot of anxiety. Despite the ravens, some things still hide from view. The rain washes away the scent of danger, so the wolves cannot anticipate what’s next as the patter of the rain disguises sounds as well. The path gets flooded, and so at the various forks in the road, it is hard to see which is the best route. The Man is not lost, but conflicted. His lack of information and foresight is blinding his one eye. His own foresight sees only possibilities but not certainty.

Some of you may recognize the other part of The Grey Wayfarer – My identification in spirit with the wandering god, Odin the All-Father. But the analogy is fitting in many ways. Odin’s reputation is mixed. He is not always the good guy. Nor is he bad. Depending on who you talk to, I am a hero or a villain. I accept this; it is life. For the longest time, my wolves have been a reflection of my needs and desires and my hunger for them to be fulfilled. My ravens – reason and wisdom. My path – the Nine Noble Virtues. As a Wayfarer, minimalism is my habit. One’s pack cannot be too heavy. My one eye remains because I sacrificed my old life of religion, faith, and all the BS that comes with it, to find a truer sight in my mind and heart. The one eye I have left seeks love, wisdom, and justice. But confound it, the rain and gloom are making all of this hard.

I never know precisely what will trip me over back into this, and perhaps it has been long in coming. Autistic Masking has been my trouble, and I think I have been masking my own emotions from myself. Is that possible?

But yesterday, I found myself spending the day alone and hating every moment of it. I then tried to do laundry, and my car wouldn’t start. I think the battery has finally started to lose the battle of keeping a charge. My son jumped me, so it started, and for a while was fine. Until I had to go to work, then it did it again. So I had to call into work, and I really can’t afford to do that. And then, as I went back inside, planning to get a new battery somehow, I tripped. I fell into a state of anxiety I haven’t felt in a long time. My stoic philosophy was saying “control what you can control,” but the emotions of looking at my car troubles, being alone to face them, and looking at the financial issues of my life right now, and I tripped and fell, and when I got up, The Grey was there, and I stood there wondering what to do. Anxiety about the future mixed with that low, gloomy depression was a state I thought long forgotten.

As I write this, I look at the clock and realize I was there for roughly five hours – I took a nap (not the restful kind), tried unsuccessfully to be creative, sat staring at a screen, and doomscrolling. Then doing nothing at all. And then it hit me. I have been pretending that I finally got out of The Grey to the point that I have not been doing the things I need to do to walk successfully through it. I labelled it as something of my past and not the present. It’s a horrible mistake to think things are all right when they are not.

I forgot a simple truth – depression and anxiety are something you can manage but can never cure. I will always be The Grey Wayfarer. I have to remember this to survive.

Let’s picture our hero in his gloomy, rainy forest once again. He is standing. No progress is being made. Stagnation. But then he takes a step and then another. There is something I have learned in all the walking I have done. Something I need to get back to once the temperatures get regularly above freezing. There is a moment when you are motivated to keep walking and cannot, for the life of you, figure out where the motivation comes from. It’s raw humanity that is, in many ways, undescribable. I feel like I am at that moment.

So I take a step and another. I don’t really care what th path is, just that I am moving down it once again.

The one thing that is for sure is…

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

The Grey Mage – Episode 1 – The Current State of Affairs

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Happy Woden’s (Odin’s) Day!

The Grey Mage’s Journal – June 18, 2025

It’s been a while since I have written in my journal, but I feel that things are getting interesting, to say the least. So, it may be time to start chronicling my life experiences again for the sake of posterity. But perhaps an update is in order, as my last entry was on the last day of 2019, between COVID and a few other things that have happened in my life, my life is very different from it was those many years ago.

The magical world, in North America at least, has had an uneasy peace between the creatures of Magic and the Mages. But there are still some who long for the good ole days when creatures were slaves of the mages and the noble mage houses ruled things, but it seems changes are becoming more permanent. Most of the Houses still survive, but all of them have lost some of their political pull. This is because the Council has Magical creatures on it now, and that definitely doesn’t sit well with many of the old guard.

This has led to some changes, such as the Death Angels (The Old Council’s Necromantic hit squad) being disbanded. Necromancy is truly outlawed, so even the Council cannot violate this without penalty. Under Pressure from the magical world, the council began to be more inclusive in who could be on it.

Over time, the makeup of the council has changed so that things are a little more balanced. Over the last six years, there are less mages and more magical creature types. The council still has nine members, and now North America and Europe are divided into nine districts from which anyone can be elected. Hell, I could run and have been asked to do so. I, however, have no desire to do so. Right now, there are four mages on the council, only three of whom belong to noble houses. The Houses of Mars, Venus, and Saturn have seats on the council. The fourth mage is an ‘unaffiliated’ mage like myself. The Fae have two of their dryad queens on the council. Add in a Centaur and an Ogre, and it is pretty balanced at that point.

The final member, and most recent member, was a half-elf girl of previous acquaintance by the name of Raven. A woman I had the ‘privilege’ of meeting in my apartment many years ago. She is a bridge in more ways than one. Mostly, she is both fae and human, being half-elf. She was also elected unanimously as the Chairperson. This move kind of shocked everyone, but it made sense, and she has, over the last few months, handled things quite well.

But this political move actually had consequences for me personally. One month after taking her seat as the Chair of the New Council, I opened the door and found her standing on the doorstep of my cabin in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. (I had moved after the war was over from the one I had in Wisconsin back to my home state.) She smiled that beautiful half-elven smile and asked to come in. Unlike last time, she wasn’t alone. She was flanked by two other figures I also knew from the past – Grumm the Troll and Alex, a mage from House Saturn. They both were in much more formal attire, and both of them looked at me with a frightened respect. I had after all kicked their asses when we fought last time. Grumm, for his part, shook my hand and said there were no hard feelings from me burning him all those years ago, and Alex simply brooded over Raven’s shoulder.

Raven, for her part, was still the diminutive half-elf with the sex appeal of a Playboy Playmate. But now she wore a sports suit with a knee-length skirt. Much more professional. The goth mercenary look was gone.

“If this meeting goes well, perhaps I can call you ‘Edward’?”

“That would require that we move our relationship to the more intimate level.”

“We will see.”

I laughed as I thought this was a joke, but I was to find out how wrong I was.

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We sat down and talked for a bit. In summary, she sought my assistance in addressing various situations that might require my services. In short, a troubleshooter. I objected because I was basically retired at this point and trying to keep a low profile. I still had many enemies. But I had also parlayed my magical expertise into a decent income as a consultant and researcher of magical things. I worked from home and earned a good income. What could possibly pull me away from this very peaceful life?

Raven offered me more money, but I think she knew I didn’t care. Then she offered me something I didn’t expect to appeal to me, but it did. She appealed to my sense of justice. Many of my enemies were still involved in various questionable activities and engaged in revolutionary activities to bring back the ‘good ole days.’ In short, I would be making my enemy list shorter while at the same time doing some good in the world. Plus I would be brining some justice for some because some of these scum were on the run from the magical law.

Then she pointed out the main reason she wanted me. I was the only known battle mage, and she felt the Council could use that kind of help with this problem. I balked at the thought of working for the Council; I had spent the majority of my life on the run from them. I told Raven that I wouldn’t be their puppet no matter how much they had changed. She said, I wouldn’t be working for them, but for her directly. Each councilperson has the right to enlist individuals to help them of their choosing. She had basically kept Grumm and Alex on as her bodyguards that way. But she didn’t want me to work for her, but with her.

In short, she was offering a partnership. Her, with her political connections and intelligence sources, and I, as investigator and battlemage when raw power was required. I could also enlist help if I needed it. My concerns still remained, but she assured me this Council was different than the others. It literally had only one member who was from the old days, and that person was someone who supported the revolution.

I then switched my thoughts to the nature of the job. What was I investigating, and who was involved? It was this point that I was sold. The old guard was up to some pretty nasty things. Fae slavery trafficking, Necromancy, illegal research, etc. The Fae slave trafficking caught my attention as I had an intimate relationship with one that had begun in childhood and continued up to the present day. I didn’t know right now what Lunnette was up to, but the last thing I would ever want for her would be to be enslaved to some mage as their magical boosting whore. Necromancy made sense as the dismissed Death Angels would be a problem there now that the legal caps are off for them. Illegal practice, but what do you care if you basically think the new Council doesn’t have any power over you?

SO I accepted the partnership with the condition that I could dissolve it at any time. Raven agreed, and then things got a little interesting. She dismissed Grumm and Alex, telling them to form a perimeter around the cabin. She wanted to speak to me alone. Once we were alone, I saw her mumble a spell, and my guard went up. But then I recognized what it was – a privacy spell. She was making sure whatever happened next was going to be known only to me and her.

“Sorry, I should have warned you about that.”

“No Problem. Apparently, there is something you want just between us?”

She then went on to explain that she genuinely wanted this partnership to work. Because it was more dire than she was letting on. The problem was that she felt that the whole of these activities were connected in some way. Some single effort to bring things back to the way things were. She wanted me out there doing something about it and figuring it out. She was interested in me as a battlemage to be sure, but she also wanted my better-than-average skill in divination and my experience being behind enemy lines.

“I also want you to absolutely trust me.”

“Not likely.”

She nodded, then added

“Have you ever heard of the elven ritual of ‘Estel Núte?”

“Trust Bond, as I recall in English”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“Not much is known about it outside the Elven community. It is supposed to be something like sealing a contract, only much more sacred.”

“Yes, it is. I would like to perform this ritual with you to bond us together regarding this partnership of ours. Make it more of a sacred act between us. It has one actual magical effect – Enchantment magic will not work between us. I can’t enchant you, and you can’t enchant me.”

I thought on this for a bit and asked Raven for a moment. Raven was basically saying that she wanted to nullify her main form of magic toward me. I didn’t know what other magical schools she had skill in, but this would be a huge thing for her, and I was starting to see why it would mean so much to the elves. Enchanters are roughly 80% of their spell casters, and that would mean that between two of them doing this ritual, it would form a lot of trust. Magical manipulation becomes very difficult. In this case, Raven would be voluntarily giving up a lot of her options regarding trying to magically charm me. I, on the other hand, whose basic skill in Enchanting is almost non-existent, wasn’t giving up much. So she was desperate to have my aid.

“Seems one-sided. What does the ritual itself involve?”

“Ritual spell that involves shared blood and coitus”

She tried to say that like she was delivering a technical lecture, but some emotional excitement slipped through at the end.

“So we do the spell, exchange blood and fuck?”

She laughed, “Yes, that is in a very vulgar way of putting it, but technically correct. That’s why I said – I might be able to call you ‘Edward’ at last.”

I groaned inside. The problem was I hadn’t actually had sex in about six months. I missed it terribly both as a man and a mage. Lunette, Amber, and I had formed a Trois relationship during the war, and it has lasted quite a while into the peace period. The Trois was technically still a thing, but I hadn’t seen Lunette in well over a year or Amber in six months. We kept in touch minimally, and they had been gone for a while. But I knew for sure that if we got together again and were within walking distance of a bed, there would be passion of a physical kind.

Lunnette was feeling itchy feet, as many Pixies do, to be off and doing something exciting. She loved me and I her, but I could tell something was bothering her, and it was that she needed to get back out there. I could tell she was getting sexually bored as well. Pixies have the sexual morality of a goat and long for new experiences. There is just no way for any human to sexually satisfy a Pixie, even if that human is a mage.

I think the Trois lasted as long as it did because both Amber and I are mages, and our auras were an aphrodisiac that could not be equaled by a pixie. She was both in love with us and addicted to our auras. It kept her excited for a long time, but then it suddenly didn’t, at least not as much. Then she got offered a job with one of the Fae Queens in a Grove in Montana, and said she was going to take it. We made love that last night, cried a lot, then she packed and, after a goodbye kiss with both Amber and me, she walked out.

Amber and I tried to make a go of things as a couple, but it was problematic. I am 25 years her senior, and this made for interesting gossip in the local town. I will never understand how society has so many double standards. If I had been a fifty-something woman and she a twenty-something man, it would be: ‘You go, girl.” But the opposite, and somehow she is being manipulated into the relationship, and I am a creeper. It put a little social pressure on us in that very conservative part of the country.

But the point was that Amber and I had always been a thing in the context of the Trois. Lunnette is the one who had invited her into the whole thing. As a couple, we found out how much Lunnette had been the glue that held us together. It is not that we fought or anything. It just wasn’t the same. The nights still had passion, but they lacked something. One morning, I woke up and Amber was gone. She left a note on the table about how things had changed; she still loved me, but she had accepted a job out of state. She didn’t tell me where.

I cried for a while. I have to say I like having two sexy roommates, but the truth is, the feeling of being alone hit me hard at that moment. But I understood I didn’t own either of these women. Both had very free and at times fiery spirits. I did the best I could, and occasionally I would get a text or email from one of them. I would reply, but that was the end of it. It felt so sudden, and for me I threw myself into my magical research and reading. Not much else to do.

But at this moment, a half-elf woman was offering me ritual sex to seal a deal, and until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much I missed being touched and loved. I missed making love to someone. I had always been a little selective of who I had sex with; at that moment, my body count was four. But…

I nodded assent. Raven smiled and took my hand in hers. It isn’t very hard to find a bedroom in a cabin-sized structure. The Trois had used it often, and it still had the king-sized four-poster bed in it. Raven stood in front of it and disrobed. Suddenly, there was a beautiful naked half-elven woman in front of me. I suddenly realized how horny I was and it started to show. So, I followed suit and disrobed myself and stood a couple of feet in front of her.

She produced a small ritual dagger in her left hand and took my right. She made a cut across the palm, then cut her own right palm, and then clasped her bleeding hand in mine. She began to say some words in Elvish, and I could follow some of them. It was magic-laced words of binding and trust, and I could feel the magic between us arise as our blood mingled. When she was finished, she released my hand, and to my surprise, it wasn’t bleeding anymore, but there was a faint scar.

The next second, though, I had her pressing her body against mine with her arms wrapping around my neck. Our height difference was almost comical as she pulled herself up on her toes to kiss me with my 6-foot-4-inch height. For my part, my hands went to her waist and then down her butt slowly until they were mid thigh and then I grabbed her thighs and pulled her up. She wrapped her legs around me.

Now, normally I would not kiss (or fuck) and tell. I tend to keep that in my memories and not share. But there are some things I have to say about our lovemaking that might be pertinent later:

1) If Raven is a common example of elvish lovemaking, then they are all freaks. I had heard stories, of course, about how the Stoic domenor comes off when elves are alone with themselves or close friends, but I had no idea. Raven was ‘crazy bitch’ levels of enjoying the experience. I thought for sure Grumm and Alex would come running based on her screams and groans, but they didn’t.

2) During the actual act, I found myself thinking I was being dominated or at least there was an attempt to dominate me. Not spells per se, but just the sit back and let me ride you kind of vibes. Oddly, while I would normally accept a woman riding me as a good time, I turned it around. Let’s just say that when Raven put on her panties afterwards, they slipped over some red cheeks that had an impression resembling my handprints on them. She smiled and didn’t seem to mind, almost like she was impressed.

3) The magic works, and as best as I can tell, it is on the up and up. I tried casting some of the small Enchantment spells I know at Raven, and they simply didn’t materialize. I could feel the magic the whole time, and it just added to the experience. I also felt something else, like a bond between us. More than just the magic, but I somehow trusted her more. Like, she legitimately wanted this partnership, and she wanted it to work.

Once we were both dressed again. She came over and kissed me again.

“I would love to stay the night after that, but I have other matters to attend to.”

”Busy now, huh?”

“Yeah, this Councilwoman and Chairperson role is exhausting at times.”

“So, how is this going to work?”

“I will send you an encrypted email tomorrow. It will tell you what I would like you to do for your first mission. You can contact me if you need more details.”

“OK.”

She kissed me again. Deeply.

“Thank you, Edward. The council could really use your help, and thanks for the sex – I enjoyed it immensely.”

With that, she let go of my neck, and I walked her to the door. Grumm and Alex were waiting for her in their car about fifty yards off. I watched her walk to the car, keeping my eyes on that nice tight little, nicely curved ass of hers. Once she was inside and they had driven off, I went back inside my cabin. Activated my wards and made a note that she had called me ‘Edward’, and I didn’t mind.

Something else comes to mind now that I write about it. I am in a good mood for the first time since Amber Left. I never realized how much physical intimacy affects my moods. Right now, I could take on a pack of werewolves and be smiling about it. I have to keep that in mind. I miss the girls for a ton of reasons, but perhaps I should open myself up to other relationships just to add some joy to my life. It’s limited, but it beats the loneliness I have felt for half a year. For Odin’s Sake, how much am I becoming more Pixie-like in my attitude toward sex?

I guess I will see what this encrypted email brings for me tomorrow.

Writer’s Notes:

Sorry, it took so long to write again, but reworking The Hedge Wizard of Redberg / Rogue Wizard universe so that it is caught up both time-wise and puts my main character (my avatar basically) into a new situation took a bit. I do think this situation will get the desired result, which is that this series, ‘The Grey Wizard’, will be a never-ending story of sorts. It is a series that will keep going as long as I want to keep it going. There is no real ending in mind, just the idea of striving from one story to the next.

I wanted to get the Grey Wizard Edward out on his own, so to speak, and have a new motivation to get out there and do something in the world of magic. Getting Amber and Lunnette out of the picture was a part of that. As much as I liked writing battle scenes with all three involved, they were kind of overpowered when together.

I like the irony of Edward working for the Council that had hunted him for most of his life is interesting, but I knew the changes to the Council had to be significant to pull that off. Plus, add an old character that I never really did much with as the Chairperson, and a new situation is born.

We will see what happens in the coming episodes.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

Grey Avatar – ‘Spiked Coffee’ – Part 1 of a Grey Wayfarer Serial

Happy Sif’s Day!

Grey Avatar – Part 1

I can speak from personal experience that if you are tired enough, you can sleep anywhere. In my case, I was sleeping on a park bench in the city’s main park. I slept here because the police had a tendency to patrol the roads where they could look into the park but rarely got out to deal with the homeless vagabonds like myself. Luckily it was also the middle of spring and the weather was arming up. I could get by with my jacket and trail boots. Didn’t like hats unless it was super cold.

Waking up, I realized I had slept Into mid-morning or so by the sun. It was chilly but not windy. A perfect day in some people’s minds. I sat up and checked all my things. Everything was present from my backpack to my trail boots. I was getting better at being vagabond and homeless.

How long had it been now – a year. That terrible day when my whole life had crumbled. They had pronounced her dead you see – my wife that is. I didn’t go back to work and then one day I just packed everything into my backpack and walked out. I haven’t been back. I have learned how little it takes to be and stay alive since that day.

If you see me on the street though, you would not think me homeless. I know ways to keep my hygiene up to snuff and keep my clothes in good repair. I pay attention to my hygiene and appearance. I even have a debit card and what little I earn goes into it. It’s enough to afford a gym membership to one of those national chains. So always a place to work out and shower is available to me and I use them. I have gotten in good shape (muscled and still standing tall despite my age), and daily showered, brush my teeth, and trim my beard. My beard is getting grey like my medium hair. Try to get a haircut once a couple months and then it is usually a buzz cut (minus the beard) so I can grow it a while before the next haircut.

It’s my eyes that tell you that I am different. If my wife were alive and you asked her, she would tell a tale of how she fell in love with my grey-blue eyes which she would describe as getting lost in the sea after a storm. It’s the one place you can look at my face and still see me as I was – hopeful, but sad. My fifty-five years weigh heavy, but I still stand straight as I can.

I wander. It’s what I do now. I don’t stay in a single place for more than a few weeks. Then I look up the next city that has a gym where I have a membership and move on to that one. I work a little and observe. I do a lot of watching people. Lovers, partners, workers, street vendors, police, and others. I see them all and for a short time watch their story unfold in front of me. Then I write what I see in my notebook. Once a notebook is full, I mail it to a friend to keep for me. She is the only one who knows where I am at all times and is sworn to silence. I don’t have a phone or address, so she can’t write back. But she promised to keep the notebooks until I return to get them.

Today I met a most interesting person. I would not be exaggerating if I were to say this person changed my life forever, but it is one of those tales that may require many entries to tell. I am not even sure of my own sanity at this point which I have heard means I am perfectly sane just perhaps have experienced a shock.

It started with meeting a fellow vagabond. Older than me and looking far more interesting. He looked like a wizard of sorts with his long beard and hair that was pure white. He was wearing a jacket and jeans so that through off the wizard vibes. But he had a long staff-like walking stick that was actually pretty cool with its steel banded ends. I looked a little opulent for him as the rest of him suggested wanderer,

He, interestingly enough, also had a cape with a hood that he kept over his head just enough to hide his eye. Yes, I said eye because where his left eye would be was an eyepatch of black fabric. Under the cape the bulge of a medium-sized backpack was apparent. He walked straight and tall which indicated for his age he must be still in great health and shape. But his face was otherwise lined with lines of concern and courage. If you get that you get that.

He approached me and I stiffened up naturally as I tend to do when I know someone wants to talk to me, but I don’t know who they are. I was intrigued by this man, but I could sense that he was not all he seemed to be on the surface. When he spoke, his voice was both wise and commanding.

“Leif Johanson, I have need of your assistance.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I know many things. Your name is simple enough to know”

I paused here checking my brain for any time I had revealed my true name to anyone. I don’t use it much except when needed for financial or legal matters, which are very few anymore.

“So what do you want with me, seeing you have gone through the trouble of finding out my name?”

“It was very little trouble actually, let’s just say a bird told me.”

It was then I noticed the two ravens. One was sitting on one of the branches near our conversation. For the life of me, I didn’t hear it fly to that spot even though I had been on this bench all morning. The other was further away sitting on a garbage can. Suddenly I felt more watched than ever. An uncomfortable feeling for a people watcher and a wanderer who likes to fly under the radar.

The stranger chuckled at his statement and I was now more uncomfortable.

“So what do you want with me?”

“Well, let’s not talk here. I would rather we talk over coffee. That coffee shop behind us will do. You can hear me out and I will buy you whatever drink you like and given the chill this morning we will both know the simple pleasure of a warm place, a warm drink, and a warm conversation, business though it may be. Will you accept my hospitality and hear me out?”

I did not dislike him but there was something about him that caused me to be on edge. But my ethics about hospitality, seeing he used the word, is that it is rude to turn it down if offered as hospitality. Just as rude as not to give it when necessity demands it.

“Very well, I accept your hospitality sir.”

We entered the coffee shop and found it empty as it was mid-morning. The early rush was over and the staff was waiting for the noon one in a couple of hours. We ordered our drinks. I ordered my standard hot chocolate, as I don’t like hot coffee very much, but I did want a warm-up before I returned to the park. The man I was with ordered black coffee but with a coffee bean I knew was expensive. He had high tastes. Who am I to say anything about this. In the summer I would be buying an iced coffee ( I prefer mine cold) and with the same attention to the bean I wanted. Vagabonds have their rich excentricities at times.

Once we got our drinks which only took the staff a couple minutes we found a seat as far away from the counter as the stranger I was with would walk. He wanted our conversation to be private as much as possible, apparently.

“Yes, this will do.”, he said.

At first, we said nothing as he pulled out a flask from inside his coat and added some of its contents to his coffee, and then offered some to me.

“More of your hospitality?”

“Yes, actually. This is mead. It will both sweeten your drink and enlighten your mind.

I nodded my acceptance, as I felt once again that hospitality rules required it. I didn’t think this man had any more to do with me other than offering me a proposal and this was a public place. I didn’t think the coffee would be spiked.

The mead combined with my hot chocolate was delightful. I actually felt fairly warm after a few sips and I felt a little more alert and mindful. If it was spiked I felt it would do the opposite, so genuinely magical. Perhaps my new acquaintance was a wizard after all or at least an alchemist.

“Thanks, this is very good.”

“Welcome, now to my proposal.”

Then he touched my hand and the world faded from existence.

End of Part 1

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

Rethinking Things (Sorry I Have Been Out)

Happy Mani’s Day!

Whenever discipline breaks down, there is a cause. In my case, I just was not enjoying writing on this blog the last few times. I also am still wrestling with my apartment and getting it where I like. For environment is important otherwise it becomes too distracting. Mostly though using this blog strictly for a journal has not worked as well as I had hoped. The goals part has when I have done it but this blog has always been best when I write about things like philosophy, Norse mythology, or just plain fiction that I created. This has to e the daily creativity side of me for it to work. This has caused me to rethink things.

So I have decided to look at my six focus points as still valid but moving to a paper journal to keep track of them. What in need to do here on The Grey Wayfarer is talk about them more philosophically, with a dash of Norse Mythology, and perhaps just plain allegorically present them with creative works. I am not completely sure of the details but change is coming. I will let you know more tomorrow. of the details. What I do know is that what is more therapeutic to me is not the type of writing I have been doing here. This needs to change. See you tomorrow.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

Minimalism – Returning to My Philosophical Roots.

Happy Mani’s Day!

Since making my decision to reign from teaching ASAP, I have been reviewing my minimalistic philosophy of life. Mostly, on the practical side, I have to reduce the shit in my possession so I can fit everything into my car and go back to Michigan. But the rest of it is renewing some things I had forgotten. Stuff remembered that would have helped me with what I am going through now if I hadn’t remembered it too late.

Does this give me joy?

Does this give me sense of purpose?

Does this add value to my life.?

These are the questions at some point that I stopped asking and got off track. Had asked them about teaching or some of the things I have bought with my money I would probably have had a better sense of purpose and more money. So as I prepare to move back home, stuff is leaving my life.

I first learned of this concept many years ago when I was still a Christian reading Richard Foster’s book Celebration of Discipline and then I read his later book – Freedom of Simplicity. Now, one might say this is a Christian thing until you realize every major viewpoint seems to have some discussion about Minimalism in its most base form – living simply. Stoic philosophers sing its praises without even a reference to a deity. Does it fit with the Nine Noble Virtues – I would say ‘yes’. It is more important to work with purpose than accumulate. More important to work on one’s self than acquire things from others.

This last few days, I have been getting rid of things and with each trip to Goodwill or each tip to the dumpster, I feel the load of life’s burden getting lighter. I have fewer things than last week and yet I feel like I have gained something – freedom from the desire to possess.

One particular trial in this was not as one might expect – my books. but rather my games. I have a load of Avalon Hill wargames I collected in my younger days that I have had through many travels and moves. I have held onto these forever and yet today I set aside 2/3 of them to take to Goodwill. I asked myself – ‘when was the last time you played this? It came up surprisingly often – ‘never’ and at other times ‘decades ago’. Some collectors will have them if they stumble into the right Goodwill and find them. But it felt so good – like giving up a dormant part of the past so I am open for something else to enjoy or be more productive. Letting go and gaining freedom. That is simplicity, that is minimalist philosophy. It brings real peace.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

Thoughts on 2022

Happy Sif’s Day and Happy New Year!

I look back on 2022 with frustration and some sense of self-discovery. It’s amazing how much those two go hand in hand.

My frustrations stem from a lack of satisfaction with where I am and what I am doing. I dislike Texas for a lot of reasons. I don’t enjoy the politics of it; the sub-tropical climate without any season to speak of; unless you count moving from green to brown of the foliage at times. The people are friendly enough but their viewpoints on life deeply seep into Christianity. The Bible Belt is alive and well. I reminded of a Viking saying about Christians – “Don’t trust them – they talk peace but carry a sword”. Christians are on the defensive so they are apologetic and kind. Just wait if the tables ever turn. I remember the 80s and 90s all too well. Politics, Climate, Religion, and Oh, Yes. Houston is without a doubt one of the worst-designed cities on the planet. One of the costs one expects in a city is that its design would help with is transport costs. But no, Houston is designed in such a way that you have to drive everywhere, even down a couple of blocks because public transport is a joke and sidewalks are non-existent as far as I can tell. Overall, I would say the environment fits me like a size 6 shoe and I have 10 and a half feet.

Top it off, my dissatisfaction with being a public school teacher has grown to the point that I want to be done at the end of the semester. I will finish out my contract and call it good. I hear most don’t last between 2-5 years so I am in good company. For me it is a little different – this job requires me to care too much – much as I did as a pastor. This is bad for me personally for a number of reasons. I am burnt out from caring about so many. I just can’t do it much longer. I hope that makes sense. It’s not that I don’t care about people, but the direct involvement in a lot of things in everyone’s life – I just can handle based on the simple fact that I get tired of doing it. I am worn out from that, I now understand I am probably too old to get that fire I used to get from helping people like that back. I will send myself to an early grave with the stress of my emotions. I no longer can help at a deep level without it triggering a lot of the Grey for me. My empathy is killing me at this point.

It’s this fact that has triggered The Grey a lot for me. It has led to the self-discovery that when I help others, I fail to take care of myself. This is not about selfishness – it’s about self-preservation. I getting too old for this shit. I have a lot of goals I have yet to achieve and this is not the way. My self-care has suffered and I can’t let that continue.

So in Viking Spirit, I am planning on ending my raid into Texas this summer and heading back home – north – back to Michigan. I can handle one more semester as long as I know it is the last one. But also during this semester, I need to get back to my coping mechanisms that keep the Grey at bay and make my life better overall. I need to once again put myself first. Getting Back to lifting weights, proper diet, writing, reading, meditation, and plan simply being a voice in the world for the NNV and Reason. To live the Viking Life in the modern age.

I suppose the one positive of raids is the plunder is good. I have made more in the last year and a half than four full years of ministry. That said, teaching is a tough job that deserves more. I think I can do better now that I have some measure of what it means to focus on things. Just wish I had a shieldmaiden by my side to help me with the burden of life. That would have made things easier. I haven’t found any shieldmaidens in Texas, maybe they are all northern gals. So I would be headed in the right direction. Tomorrow’s post will have more details on my vision for 2023.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

Re-Imagining The Grey Wayfarer

Happy Sol’s Day!

I haven’t sat down and written in forever; partly, it is the lack of inspiration. The other part of it is the time excuse but that is what it is – an excuse. To be fair to myself, I am learning a new job that is time intensive. That said, I have made a point to keep working at work and home at home. So is it a time thing or a making the time thing and then being disciplined about it. The latter is more likely. Mostly, I have just been wrestling against my depression.

Yes, The Grey, my old traveling companion down the road of life. It is at least a consistent companion if nothing else. Mostly it stems from being alone most of the time. I make enough money to survive and get ahead on paying debts but not much after that. I spend a lot of time at home alone. I thus do a lot of thinking -gasp – and that is a dangerous pastime as everyone knows. I am wrestling mostly with my future choices. What do I want to be?

I was the Rabyd Atheist for a while but the thought that kept running through my head was “is this what I want to define me?” I now think while I remain an atheist with a great deconversion story, I want that to be it. There is more to me than being an atheist and I want to search that out what that might be.

I am a social studies teacher in high school, but that is losing its allure as well. I think after so long as being the guy who called the shots, I don’t see that as often as I feel every time I turn around someone is joggling my elbow. Teaching is a craft to be sure but I find it time-consuming and frustrating for the above-stated reason. Honestly, I would rather e writing and hiking somewhere. Is it possible to make a living with some other job and still have time for the things I enjoy? It’s something I need to research.

As to this blog, I am Re-Imagining it to be something else. I still follow pagan philosophy and the Nine Noble Virtues. The issue is the application for me these days. Putting things into practice. So perhaps It is time to journal on these efforts again. We will see. In the meantime, you can see that I am still around and alive and well, despite the Grey.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

“Naming Day” – The Grey Wayfarer Pub – Episode 3

Happy Thor’s Day!

It’s been a month since last I wrote. I have been busy and now is the time to journal the results.

First I Had to personally move into the top-floor apartment. It was actually a simple affair with a single bedroom for my king-sized bed with some room to spare and a fairly spacious bathroom next to that. The entire front was an open loft-like arrangement with a kitchen, dining nook, and a living area which I devoted to my books a reading chair, and a sofa for guests. No Television. Comfortable and functional. Honestly, I spend very little time here except to get some sleep, eat, and do some reading at the end of the day.

The basement is more of my second home now. It is my alchemy lab in truth now. Several tables with chemical and alchemical apparatus covering them. One whole wall is now devoted to ingredients for my potions. Part of it though is my brewing equipment for my own alcoholic beverages. In particular, I have chosen to go with Mead. Mead is expensive and for good reason – honey. But I have discovered one thing about it as well. Because the ingredients are in some senses precious – the potions I make with mead have been shall we say more potent.

Now the real trick to alchemy is the magic part. It has to be drawn from your own inner philosophy and inner most beliefs. Theology does not work for me anymore and is quite frankly unstable as nitroglycerin as far as results. It’s the fact that theology is made up for the most part and lives in a double fantasy of sorts. It requires a lot of cheats and leaps of logic to get it to even be usable and even then its effects can be quite weird. It’s why the cure for vampirism eventually failed as theology is my magic force that doesn’t hold the magic that well. The cure had a shelf life and then the magic didn’t work at all once I didn’t believe.

So as I am setting up my lab I was also experimenting with products to sell and I have found that from a physical base form point of view mead is damn good at holding magic and tends to actually act as an enhancer of magical effect. So my mead production began at once. Thankfully the base magic I add to it makes the fermentation process go even faster. The base magic in general is the simple philosophy of living a virtuous life. The basic effect of the mead is that it quickens thought and reflection as well as having enough kick to knock a frost giant on his ass.

The rest of the magic is to take this base mead and add different ingredients and effects to make it more specialized. I have a lot of experimenting to do but the alchemy is working again and for that, I am thankful as I want a local brew to sell.

The bar itself is now nearly complete. Stools are redressed in grey vinal with a silver sheen and the five booths are much the same. The bar is restocked and the small cooking alcove is fixed up and stocked as well. I redid the bathrooms as they were pretty much trashed. I basically made two unisex bathrooms with nice fixtures and set up to do pretty much everything regardless of the sex of the occupant. I am just thinking ahead on that I suppose.

Finally, I added some touches from the old pub. I had my silver shield and shotgun shipped in and placed them under the bar. The painting of Miss Wine from the Pub. Her naked reclining form fits right at home here in the pub. Last I knew she had left the US to take an undisclosed job for the Shields. It must have been pretty hush-hush as even I couldn’t get info on it and I have pretty high clearance. That said, the painting was done by a man who knew his oils and made her beautiful and restful. Last, of all, I put up a small sign next to the painting – “Clothing Optional”. Some things will never change for me.

Outside there now hangs a sign which up to today was covered to prevent it from being read. But today I removed it as it is the official naming day for the pub. Both sides have the same scene of an old man traveling a path. Above him fly two ravens and two wolves are on the path with him. The word along the top and bottom: “The Grey Wayfarer”. Not so coincidentally, this is also the name of my new Mead “Grey Wayfarer Mead”.

I am happy with the place and the grand opening is in two weeks. Now all I need to do is hire some staff.

Author’s Notes:

Starting something new, forward in the timeline, but returning as something low-powered is tough unless there is a good explanation.

In this case, it is the bartender who has changed. He is having to rediscover and rebuild and so his power is diminished and his friends are scattered requiring him to make new ones (although some old characters might make a guest appearance). This means the change is causing a reset.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

Nine Noble Virtues – “Discipline”

Happy Odin’s Day!

Discipline – “I do what is necessary and right of my own accord without bribe or threat.”

I know of no person who has accomplished anything without discipline. Discipline I doing the right and necessary things over and over again. A person does this not because they are bribed or coerced, but because simply that they are the right things to do, they are necessary to do.

For me, the focus has shifted to being a little more specific. To do the right and necessary things out of habit. Daily habit. This means coming up with routines.

As overall virtue, discipline helps us all in more than the daily accomplishments of life. Its connection with honor is unmistakable as doing what is right without bribe or threat is also an aspect of honor. The habits of a person’s life lead to a disciplined life of honor. It is one of those virtues that crosses over into a lot of areas.

Discipline can also be shared with others. Discipline is given as a virtue to others through training, teaching, and instruction. None of us learn from others without accepting their discipline of what they tell us to do.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

Nine Noble Virtues – “Courage – Fear is a Choice”

Happy Odin’s Day!

“I will face my fears and defend my family and kindred from all dangers”

As a Christian, I was sold on the notion that perfect love casts out fear. Until you realize that the organized monotheistic religions all live and continue to exist based on fear of hell or punishment. There is no real love in it. So love doesn’t really cast out fear.

There is also the statement that Fear is not real. But the statement kind of indicates fear is a choice. I am not sure about that completely, but I get the sentiment that we choose in some ways to let fear paralyze us. It is a choice to be fearful. Or perhaps we chose to deal with our fears by either submitting to them or dismissing them and forging forward despite them.

The only part of this philosophy I truly follow when it comes to the Nine Noble Virtues is to face my fear and defend those who I love as an action. Courage is the force that overcomes these. Courage is the choice to defend rather than to run.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!