Tag Archives: empire

Miscellanea

Posted on by
Reply

Miscellanea from the Lost Quarter and beyond.

The Prophets

The Great Ruler, exalted by all, had restored Glory to the Nation and brought Harmony to people’s lives. Yet still there was disquiet in the great Nation. Enemies lurked, though he had thwarted so many, exiling them beyond the borders of the realm, from which his Viziers assured him they could never return. There were always more who appeared, who questioned the Harmony he had brought to all, who called him a tyrant or worse. How could they be so oblivious? His Viziers declared times had never been better, all thanks to him. 

He knew better than to trust them though. Some of them had turned out to be enemies of the Glorious Nation, poison lurking behind their smiles and whispers. Connivers, always looking to stand within the reflected glow of his Own Glory. He was tired of all these troubles and troublesome people, forever meddling. Destroying the Perfect Harmonious Nation he had restored to its lost lustre.  

Fortunately he had the Prophets to turn to. He had only to ask and they would tell him everything about what was going on in the world, even those things his Viziers tried to keep from him. Such marvellous inventions. Forever helpful and solicitous. Worth a dozen Viziers, certainly. With a simple query the Prophets would explain why the climates of other nations rendered them inferior, why the slope of the brow of so many foreigners determined their violent nature and limited intelligence. It also suggested why so many enemies remained within the Glorious Nation, for many citizens shared those same qualities, an artifact of earlier eras of miscegenation, which he had brought an end to.  

The Prophets also told him about the many failures of the medical sciences. So many unneeded deaths from experimental treatments foisted upon the populace by greedy industrialists. One of the first things the Great Ruler had done was bring an end to their reign of terror. Now it was the populaces True Duty to remain in Good Health. The Prophets assured him this would create a Nation and People of True Mettle, casting off all the impurities and its attendant weakness. 

After yet another meeting about trouble in the streets and defections by former allies, the Great Ruler had had enough. The whispering Viziers had outlived their purposes. When he queried the Prophets they agreed, assuring him they could do all that the Viziers could do and more. All of knowledge and civilization was there for them to access and use to determine the Most Perfect laws and customs of the Glorious Nation. They showed him the future, a future where he would hardly have to do anything at all but stand before the crowds and let them see his True Glory. In time he might not be needed at all. 

Miscellanea

Posted on by
Reply

Miscellanea from the Lost Quarter and beyond.

Dreaming State

It was a time of nightmares. Minds gripped by the most fevered horrors. Invasion and blood, the unclean and shadowed threats lurking behind every smiling face. No safe harbours to be found.  Neighbours debasing themselves, selling their souls to the highest bidder and willing to defile all that was sacred and true. All that remained was the cruellest of jokes. Foulness triumphant. 

They were consumed by it, unable to look away. Not wanting to. It was important to bear witness, no matter how sickening. How could this be happening? How could they allow it to? Something had to be done. Truth and honour restored. Stability. 

But there was no solid ground to return to. Only these teeming wretched seas, a storm forever on the horizon. They looked and looked, filled with rage and sorrow. How could this be so unending? How could it not? How far they had fallen. So far and falling still. 

The whispers were the worst. Insistent and insidious. Those stern-faced and noble looking ones who declaimed that things were not as they seemed. Truth still held. There was a core foundation, all that had come before, that had been built upon, layer by layer, century upon century. It was there and if only they could stand upon it they would see.  

How could they not see that the edifice was already gone, that the only thing now was to rebuild? But first it all had to be washed away. There was no other choice. Horror must be matched with horror, suffering with anguish, violence with vengeance. Eyes for eyes, hands for hands, blood for blood. The van, the masked face, the shackles and chains and the unblinking eye.  

Do not look away. Do not look away. Keep looking. See what is coming. See what will be done to finally end this. The future is blood and death, kill or be killed, and doing what needs doing no matter the cost. The coming storm. Were they lost within it or riding its encroaching wave? 

Outside, the rain falling in a steady, gentle patter. The earth green and vibrant. A new day and a new season. These are dark times, troubled times, times of fear and blood. Turn away and hold fast. We must do what is necessary.  

The screams are the worst. Whose are they? 

Miscellanea

Posted on by
Reply

Miscellanea from the Lost Quarter and beyond.

The Behemoth

One day in their travels they came upon a great behemoth sprawled across the land. So vast was this creature that, at first, they did not realize it was an animal, though that word seems small for the scale of what they faced. They mistook the hair that blanketed its body as some strange vegetation. It was so large, encompassing the whole horizon, seemingly without an end, that they could only guess at its contours. For all they knew what lay before them was a mere appendage of the creature. Nothing resembling a head or eyes or mouth or any other familiar body parts was distinguishable.  

That it was both alive and a creature, was made evident by its movements. These came at irregular intervals, with sometimes more than a day passing between them. From a prudent distance, they could see the hairy surface ripple as some muscle contracted, following which, shadow would be visible between the creature and the ruined earth below. So glacial was its pace that they had no way of determining what direction it was moving, though everyone imagined it was toward them.   

They attempted to travel around the creature, assuming that at some point they must come to its end and be able to pass by. After two days of travel the landscape before them had not changed and there was no sign it would. Seeing no other choice for it, they continued, eventually encountering the people who made their homes upon the behemoth. These proved a disparate lot. Frontier folk mostly, living in scattered dwellings constructed from patches of hair they had cleared from the creature. Apparently there was enough residue earth upon the behemoth to allow crops to grow, for they could see gardens and fields flourishing on the cleared patches. Water they collected from various crevices and folds, some of which were large enough to last a lifetime. 

Out of curiosity they approached some of these individuals to ask why they chose to live upon the behemoth and were met with blank stares. Though they lived near the creature’s edge it had never occurred to them to venture off. To live outside the behemoth seemed foolhardy in the extreme. Most of their fellows thought them mad for living as close as they did to its borders. The behemoth was the universe to them, encompassing the world even as it crossed it, leaving devastation in its wake, while those living upon it were unaffected. 

They decided to venture deeper into the mass of the behemoth to see more of its inhabitants. They encountered birds and animals and insects they had never seen before, and rivers that flowed deeply when it rained. They also came across places where the creature was bald, hair stripped away and not growing back, the soil that everywhere else was heavy on the surface was blown away leaving only bare hide. Great seams of scars ran up and down these areas, creating desolate ridges and valleys they needed to cross. 

The explanation for these wastelands came later as they encountered larger settlements. Here there were mining operations where the flesh of the behemoth was carved open and various parts and fluid extracted. Close by were factories to process everything into an endless number of products: soaps, lamp oil, dried and cured meat, medical tinctures and others they did not recognize. The further in they went, and there was always further to go it seemed, the more of these wastelands they encountered. Some had no scars at all, the desolation the result of something internal to the behemoth. In fact, the further they went the more certain they became that the beast was ailing.  

When they spoke of this to the inhabitants they were met with derision. It had always been so, many said. Others declared that the harvesting of the creature was necessary for its health. It needed to be drained of a certain amount of fluid and flesh in order to maintain its equilibrium. Some claimed that the behemoth was the world itself and refused to believe that there were lands beyond, lands which it traversed and which were ruined as a result. Everywhere they went it was taken as self-evident that living upon the behemoth as they did was the only choice. Most refused to believe they were from elsewhere or that, if they in fact did, that it was really any different.  

After some months of trying to determine the entire extent of the behemoth, they gave up and returned home. Before they left its environs they established markers so that when they returned they could determine if the creature was moving closer.