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The book of love is long and boring
Sam was not by nature a brave or adventurous person, but he was a curious one. The barrier's fall did not inspire him to go exploring (he had no one to go with, anyway) but it did make him want to see it, to write about it, to create diagrams and histories so people who would grow up without it's caging influence could know how it was.
And to do that, he had to actually go and see the remnants of it. He had heard there was a scar in the earth from the presence of the barrier and as he got close he could see it, a great burn-like mark in the ground (and then beyond, a lush and green forest, but he tried to ignore that; didn't want to look too closely in case it somehow tempted him over). Crouching down, he brought a jar from his pocket and scooped up some of the burnt dirt, hoping to take it back to the Loreseeker's guild. Hopefully Jigano would be pleased with him for taking the initiative to record this.
With his sample taken he sat back onto the grass and began to draw in his notebook, a simple drawing of the area (lacking any real skill, but he had begun to improve a little) and write notes of what he could see, along with questions and theories: Will grass ever grow here? or Will the barrier ever come back? Completely absorbed in his writings, he did not look up from his book for a long time.
And to do that, he had to actually go and see the remnants of it. He had heard there was a scar in the earth from the presence of the barrier and as he got close he could see it, a great burn-like mark in the ground (and then beyond, a lush and green forest, but he tried to ignore that; didn't want to look too closely in case it somehow tempted him over). Crouching down, he brought a jar from his pocket and scooped up some of the burnt dirt, hoping to take it back to the Loreseeker's guild. Hopefully Jigano would be pleased with him for taking the initiative to record this.
With his sample taken he sat back onto the grass and began to draw in his notebook, a simple drawing of the area (lacking any real skill, but he had begun to improve a little) and write notes of what he could see, along with questions and theories: Will grass ever grow here? or Will the barrier ever come back? Completely absorbed in his writings, he did not look up from his book for a long time.
No one can lift the damn thing
