Time Passes Slowly

The Stillness of Ar’s Station

Time does not merely pass in Ar’s Station; it lingers, thick as the river mist that rolls off the Vosk. In this outpost, the days feel elongated, stretched thin by the vast silence of the surrounding plains. The lively clamor of a true city feels like a distant memory, replaced here by the rhythmic creak of timber and the occasional call of a tarn in the distance.

With so few souls to converse with, the mind often turns inward. Conversation is a rare luxury, and the lack of social distraction leaves only the heavy, unrelenting weight of the tasks at hand.

The Burden of Bureaucracy

My days are currently consumed by an endless sea of parchment and ink. These forms—essential for the station's governance and the city’s expansion—have become a grueling marathon. I had hoped to be further along by now, but the complexity of the logistics proves as stubborn as a kyn (Gorean mule). Every stroke of the quill feels vital, yet the progress is slower than I ever anticipated.

The clock is ticking louder now. With January fast approaching, the city is poised to emerge from its quietude. The planned advertising push means the eyes of the Delta will soon be upon us, and the foundation must be laid before the first influx of travelers arrives.

Looking Toward the Delta: Lara

The new year brings more than just administrative pressure; it brings the road. Come January, I will be dividing my time between the station and the Gorean College in the city of Lara.

Located further up the winding veins of the Vosk Delta, Lara offers a different energy—one where I will step away from the desk to take up the mantle of an educator. Teaching classes there will be a welcome change of pace, though it adds another layer of urgency to my current work. I must clear my plate here in Ar's Station if I am to be ready for the students awaiting me in the north.