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University:  Washington and Lee University - WLU

Greek Organization:  Pi Kappa Phi

Author:  dark one

Comment:  When I joined this Greek Organization I was expected to enter into the ranks of a society of ruffians that would ride throughout the steppe searching for treasure, adventure, and also themselves. I wanted a brisk wind to hit me each morning as our gang of riders charged through the plains. I would mount my stallion and lookout onto the open fields, then I would look behind me and see my comrades upon their steeds. We would find our way in this world, one way or another. There would be love and loss, tears of joy and of pain, and there would be times that would challenge us, and though that would make us into the men. Nothing would be more real that the open steppe and the connection we shared between our men and horses. In the oasis towns we'd resupply in we could find a strong mead, a warm bed, and some companionship, but it would never compare to singing with my brothers at midnight by the fire below the stars. The heavens would look down on us and we would gaze back into the unknown. Often I would feel that in that vast void of space all the troubles of this life were insignificant to the cosmic forces in the sky, but then I'd hear the strong hearty voices of my friends songs and then I would realize what matters is what is real, and what is before me. This merry band, who had sworn a pact fused with sweat, would always be the force that would determine the character of my course. This is what I expected to find upon joining this Fraternity alas not the reality. Today I live with the reality that red-worm plague has dwindled our ranks and the despots of the hill tribes have barred us from fertile grazing lands. I knew my life would not be easy, I knew it would be hard. I spend many nights with dreams filled only with the faces of the men I've held as they died from hunger, arrow, or disease. And though we have not committed the great sacrilege of consuming a fallen brother's stallion, the winter is coming, and our trading expeditions south were fruitless as a result of our failures to raid the western kingdoms. I fear that I will never grow old and settle down with my riches in a local village to raise a clan of my own seed. This is the distant fear, the real fear is that the desert bandits will impede our progress east to the next watering hole. How many more brothers will fall from the poison tips of their spears? I pray our trek may proceed without bloodshed, but this is the reality I have come to expect. Though the bond I feel between my companions and by stallion feel stronger than the steel of saber, they are quickly broken by death's ever extending reach, leaving me nothing but memories. When I joined this brotherhood I sought to find treasures, adventure, and myself. I found all. The treasure I found was stolen. The adventure I found brought needless deaths. I when I found myself, I would rather be lost. Yet for the memories of all those who rode beside me, I would not trade them for all the wealth in the world.