[Round six] [Aleum]

A conversation overheard by a maid in Dorsalfin Palace (one-timer)
  • A: Good news, sir! We've given up the Continent!
  • B: Ooh, splendid! Splendid news! Do go on!
  • A: All continental colonies have met with overwhelming resistance. We've lost them all. The people are dead, the generals have lost all hope. There is a growing consensus that it's become plain impossible to get a handle on the Continent. In fact, the turmoil is affecting everything: The world is up in flames, with last weeks volcanic erution as an almost farcically explicit example.
  • B: How long!? Weeks, months? ...years?
  • A: The apocalypse?
  • B: Of course!! "It's the apocalypse, stupid!"
  • A: Well, the estimates of our military priests are notoriously unreliable...
  • B: Hey! A moment ago, I was about to suggest a promotion for you! Watch that tongue!
  • A: Um, the best estimates give us two months. By then, the Continent should be reduced to ashes, burning massgraves, rust and blood. Sir.
  • B: (mumbling) I... can't wait. Finally... in my day. I'm so lucky... (/mumbling) Uh, you're dismissed, colonel!

The maiden aborted her work, and went straight to a temple of Aleum, to offer him a gracious burst of religious insanity. A couple of swarming monks watched, approvingly.

Into the unknown (public)
Marcus sighed. "I guess you're right. No nation is an island, right? Well, except Mountainfish of course... Eh, you know what I mean. No nation is an island in the metaphysical sense..." The mater laughed and agreed (with the coarse voice of a long time smoker). Marcus continued: "And even though there has been so much betrayal and savagery from all sides, the world won't progress beyond this primitive level before someone forgives. Only high-mindedness can put an end to the spiral of violence and deception that we seem to be nested into." Marcus placed a cold hand on the warms ones of the mater. He looked at her, and said: "I was blind with confused hate. How on earth did you manage to salvage me from such darkness of unreason? I'm very grateful you came after me, mater. Thank you, and GOOD BYE!!" As he said those last words, he stabbed the mater in the stomach with his heavy machete. She didn't make any noise, but he did. He roared, to hide the fact that he was scared sh*tless. The mater seemed to die quite immediately, but he kept on stabbing for a little while, just to make sure he did it right.

Regaining his balance and some semblance of reason, Marcus cleaned the machete on the mater's silk, took her pouch of tea leaves and ran further into the jungle. He was immensely proud of his performance. He thought to himself that his experiences over the last few weeks had been an effective crash course in deception. Noone could be trusted. The world was an exceedingly hostile place, and Marcus had no choice but to learn how to manage in the jungle on his own. That was as far as he could plan ahead at this point.

He collected some nourishing fruits and made a crude treehouse to sleep in, then made himself a cup of foul-smelling tea. He needed to get some answers, real quick, and gambled that the "other world" might provide some.