This is the beginning of part one out of two. I hope.
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Chapter 1:
The Beginning
If this is your first time reading this almost epic, kind of sweeping tale, there is only one request that I, the humble narrator make of you in this first sentence, and that is to imagine my voice, the one now in your head perpetuating the story, speaking with an affected London accent. These tales, I’ve found, should only be read with such an accent, but since you clearly cannot hear my real voice, I’m imploring that you please, right now, switch to London. If you live in London, however, I ask that you not read this story, for it will seem rather droll to you.
This upcoming paragraph is only for people who have read the almost epic, kind of sweeping tale in its entirety once.
If this is your second time reading this almost epic, kind of sweeping tale, there is only one additional request that I, the humble narrator, make if you in this second paragraph, and that is to use the knowledge you have gained to read the story in a new light – now you know the bias of the tale presented and who I really am, and I would not put it past you, first time reader (who is no doubt reading this passage despite the explicit instruction otherwise, which I sadly cannot enforce), to skip ahead to find my name somewhere in the text. I will save you the trouble – it is only implied. You would have to read the entire end game to even have an inkling, and you would still not be familiar with the characters set forth.
First timers, you can start reading again, if you haven’t already.
To even begin finding a place to start this almost epic, kind of sweeping tale is a difficult task of itself. I could begin with the construction of the universe by an omniscient being, but I think that might be too far back. I could start with the small medical office building that sat atop a ruined castle, but I think that might be too far forward. Instead, I’m left to ponder where in the middle of this long, muddled mess am I to start explaining these events.
A cursory understanding of a fantastical history must be possessed in order to move forward, so I suppose, since I’m positive that no reader is familiar with this fantastical history, I would have to give some knowledge about how the land used the be shaped. This information is very precious to me, so do be careful with it if you should ever chose to impart it to anyone else – it’s filled with a lot of strange words, strange people, strange creatures, and some normal people.
First, if you will (and I hope you will) I would like you to imagine a mountain chain that extends for five hundred miles north. And in the northernmost peak, the mountain breaks off to the west, and at the west most peak, the mountain breaks to the south, and from the south most, it breaks to the east. Here you have a nice little square of land that has about 2,500 miles in it. Most of these miles are uninhabited.
Every ten or so miles, there is a way station for people to stop and sleep, and about every sixty miles is a small town, replete with homes, stores, a local authority figure and some smaller officers of the peace.
At the far west, two hundred and forty miles from the southern most mountain, is a peculiarly small village, Ward. Down the main cobble stone road, past three one story houses with thatched roofs and one small black smith shop, is a peculiarly small house, which shelters a mother, Anna, a father, Jordan, and their small son, Freedman. You can tell he will be important because he has a name unlike his parents, a name that could have multiple meanings, but a name that is in all other ways befitting of someone epic.
But for now, he’s a small child, and he’s playing with a wooden block. In a few minutes, Jordan will leave the house, Freedman will get a splinter, Anna will help him with it, and two weeks later they will receive word that Jordan was stepped on by a large monster made primarily out of wind and killed.
We’ll come back to him in a moment, because at the same time Freedman was gaining a splinter, a young man was born on the east most side of this large square of flat land. He was born in a slightly more advanced village. Down the main brick road, past three two story houses with slate roof and one large blacksmith shop, is a peculiarly small two story house. Inside is a woman who is screaming, because much to her dismay, there is a small child coming out of her. This noise, however, is alerting the neighbors and they are sending for the Doctor, who in turn is sending for the Witch who had leeches.
Sadly, the nameless woman with the child protruding from her dies shortly after the child emerges fully and the child is taken by the blacksmith and named Basura, after the blacksmith, who was unfortunately named, “Bastard.”
The splinter was removed from Freedman’s finger, Basura’s mother died. The events are only linked by their explicit timing, but there were many other events, going on at that moment – A man was trampled by a horse, another child was born whose parents lived, some stores were robbed, a village burn, and that same horse that trampled that man unimportant to the story trampled another unimportant man minutes later. These things, as you’ll find, do happen, but I haven’t the time to report on all of them.
Basura’s name, however, should be noted. Much like Freedman, he will be important because his name is irregular, unlike his nameless mother’s name and the name of the blacksmith, who was, in fact, a bastard.
In the center of the large square of land is a castle, which is surrounded by a bustling city. The entire castle is made out of marble, as is the city, which was carved piece by piece out of the mountain and dragged to the center by centuries of slaves. The castle, named Castle Helengast after the Queen who oversaw the construction, was a beacon of light that could be seen from many villages. In City Helengast, down the main marble road past three very tall buildings and one ironworks was another large building, owned by Perry.
Perry was a curious little man. He had an affinity for silk ascots and often paraded with several different women at the same time. It was a marvel that he only had one child, also named Perry, to his name, although it was suspected that he fathered many others.
Before you ask, yes, Perry fathered Bastard.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
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Chapter 1:
The Beginning
If this is your first time reading this almost epic, kind of sweeping tale, there is only one request that I, the humble narrator make of you in this first sentence, and that is to imagine my voice, the one now in your head perpetuating the story, speaking with an affected London accent. These tales, I’ve found, should only be read with such an accent, but since you clearly cannot hear my real voice, I’m imploring that you please, right now, switch to London. If you live in London, however, I ask that you not read this story, for it will seem rather droll to you.
This upcoming paragraph is only for people who have read the almost epic, kind of sweeping tale in its entirety once.
If this is your second time reading this almost epic, kind of sweeping tale, there is only one additional request that I, the humble narrator, make if you in this second paragraph, and that is to use the knowledge you have gained to read the story in a new light – now you know the bias of the tale presented and who I really am, and I would not put it past you, first time reader (who is no doubt reading this passage despite the explicit instruction otherwise, which I sadly cannot enforce), to skip ahead to find my name somewhere in the text. I will save you the trouble – it is only implied. You would have to read the entire end game to even have an inkling, and you would still not be familiar with the characters set forth.
First timers, you can start reading again, if you haven’t already.
To even begin finding a place to start this almost epic, kind of sweeping tale is a difficult task of itself. I could begin with the construction of the universe by an omniscient being, but I think that might be too far back. I could start with the small medical office building that sat atop a ruined castle, but I think that might be too far forward. Instead, I’m left to ponder where in the middle of this long, muddled mess am I to start explaining these events.
A cursory understanding of a fantastical history must be possessed in order to move forward, so I suppose, since I’m positive that no reader is familiar with this fantastical history, I would have to give some knowledge about how the land used the be shaped. This information is very precious to me, so do be careful with it if you should ever chose to impart it to anyone else – it’s filled with a lot of strange words, strange people, strange creatures, and some normal people.
First, if you will (and I hope you will) I would like you to imagine a mountain chain that extends for five hundred miles north. And in the northernmost peak, the mountain breaks off to the west, and at the west most peak, the mountain breaks to the south, and from the south most, it breaks to the east. Here you have a nice little square of land that has about 2,500 miles in it. Most of these miles are uninhabited.
Every ten or so miles, there is a way station for people to stop and sleep, and about every sixty miles is a small town, replete with homes, stores, a local authority figure and some smaller officers of the peace.
At the far west, two hundred and forty miles from the southern most mountain, is a peculiarly small village, Ward. Down the main cobble stone road, past three one story houses with thatched roofs and one small black smith shop, is a peculiarly small house, which shelters a mother, Anna, a father, Jordan, and their small son, Freedman. You can tell he will be important because he has a name unlike his parents, a name that could have multiple meanings, but a name that is in all other ways befitting of someone epic.
But for now, he’s a small child, and he’s playing with a wooden block. In a few minutes, Jordan will leave the house, Freedman will get a splinter, Anna will help him with it, and two weeks later they will receive word that Jordan was stepped on by a large monster made primarily out of wind and killed.
We’ll come back to him in a moment, because at the same time Freedman was gaining a splinter, a young man was born on the east most side of this large square of flat land. He was born in a slightly more advanced village. Down the main brick road, past three two story houses with slate roof and one large blacksmith shop, is a peculiarly small two story house. Inside is a woman who is screaming, because much to her dismay, there is a small child coming out of her. This noise, however, is alerting the neighbors and they are sending for the Doctor, who in turn is sending for the Witch who had leeches.
Sadly, the nameless woman with the child protruding from her dies shortly after the child emerges fully and the child is taken by the blacksmith and named Basura, after the blacksmith, who was unfortunately named, “Bastard.”
The splinter was removed from Freedman’s finger, Basura’s mother died. The events are only linked by their explicit timing, but there were many other events, going on at that moment – A man was trampled by a horse, another child was born whose parents lived, some stores were robbed, a village burn, and that same horse that trampled that man unimportant to the story trampled another unimportant man minutes later. These things, as you’ll find, do happen, but I haven’t the time to report on all of them.
Basura’s name, however, should be noted. Much like Freedman, he will be important because his name is irregular, unlike his nameless mother’s name and the name of the blacksmith, who was, in fact, a bastard.
In the center of the large square of land is a castle, which is surrounded by a bustling city. The entire castle is made out of marble, as is the city, which was carved piece by piece out of the mountain and dragged to the center by centuries of slaves. The castle, named Castle Helengast after the Queen who oversaw the construction, was a beacon of light that could be seen from many villages. In City Helengast, down the main marble road past three very tall buildings and one ironworks was another large building, owned by Perry.
Perry was a curious little man. He had an affinity for silk ascots and often paraded with several different women at the same time. It was a marvel that he only had one child, also named Perry, to his name, although it was suspected that he fathered many others.
Before you ask, yes, Perry fathered Bastard.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
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