Whatever that is.
As the original conception for Oriceran was built in my mind, I had that our world’s true past was hidden. That the truth was out there somewhere, but either the powers that be just couldn’t believe their original truth was wrong - or more insidiously, the truth was being hidden because we couldn’t be trusted with the truth.
That annoys the ever-loving hell out of me.
Personally, I AM cynical enough to believe the government is hiding stuff. Occasionally, I’d probably think it was for good reasons. However, I’m of the opinion that we (the people) are a lot more resilient than most believe. However, I never expect to truly know unless this writing and publishing business does so well, I earn enough crazy money to start funding research to find out.
Hey, it could happen! (Yeah, probably not, but maybe.)
Until then, we are building our own reality of what our past might have been like, and our future. For those who know me from The Kurtherian Gambit Universe, you know I like past, present and FUTURE.
Oh yes, I won’t hesitate to have series based another twenty years, forty years…HUNDRED years in the future in Oriceran.
What might we do, if we have technology and magic and a desire to see the stars? What kind of capabilities could we create?
Transporter Beam ala Star Trek? Done.
Faster than Light travel? Ok, done. But, we have to work with the speed of light (and the fact that we have cosmologists working on the fact that - despite our belief in Einsteins Theory of Relativity - Light Speed is not constant!)
LINK: https://www.theguardian.com/science/2016/nov/28/theory-challenging-einsteins-view-on-speed-of-light-could-soon-be-tested
Really bad things happen because mankind doesn’t know when to leave the fu#k alone? Oh yeah, that in spades.
Just the kind of Universe where people with attitude and a certain type of belief system I care about will kick ass, take names and provide us with the kind of entertainment and camaraderie I want to read more about.
But, first things first (as The Author starts looking around)…
HAS ANYONE FED THE FUCKING TROLL?
Ad Aeternitatem,
Michael Anderle
The Midwest Wanderer
Chapter One
Lightning flashed across the inky-black sky. The Gnome swore under his breath. He hated to get wet; it was the last thing he needed at that moment, but he was almost there.
Thunder rolled across the land, sending a jolt of vibration through his small frame.
Storms, he cursed. Can today get any worse?
The short answer was yes, it could.
The Gnome’s name was Gelbus Cogspark. He had once worked at the library in the Light Elves' castle, but he didn’t any longer. In fact, today was the one-month anniversary of Gelbus’s firing.
And Gelbus had to celebrate, didn’t he? Or at least drown his sorrows in pints of ale and sweet wine—if he was feeling particularly rowdy, he might down a shot of Firejuice. That would certainly take his mind off of his unemployment.
He passed a carriage on the road. A man sat behind the reins in a dark cloak.
Gelbus said, “Good day, friend,” tipping his top hat.
The man didn’t so much as reply with a head nod. There was something off about him, but Gelbus didn’t let it bother him.
The carriage rolled by, the horses’ feet clop-clopping. Inside the carriage were two women. One older, the other perhaps in her twentieth year—the man’s family, no doubt. They looked at Gelbus with cautious eyes.
“Well,” Gelbus mumbled once the carriage was a safe distance away. “Not the friendliest bunch, are they?”
He walked on, his small legs aching from the journey. What I wouldn’t give for a horse and carriage right now.
He reached inside his suit coat, pulled out a pocketwatch, and read the time. “Oh, no,” he sighed. He was going to be late.
He waddled on.
The sky grew darker and the thunder rumbled. The storm was getting closer.
As he breasted a hill, Gelbus saw the town sprawled before him. It was a dinky place flanked by a large lake; nothing like the Light Elves’ Kingdom, but it was where Elargo wanted to meet.
‘Ashbourne has the best brew in all of Oriceran,’ Elargo had said in the letter Gelbus kept folded up in his breast pocket; the letter given to him by that nice man in the tavern of Ves Ielan. As far as Gelbus was concerned, no storm or rude villagers could stand in his way of a good brew.
“That’s what got you in trouble in the first place,” Gelbus scolded himself under his breath. “That damn drinking problem.”
He smiled after the words left his lips. Didn’t his mother say that admitting you had a problem was the first step to overcoming it? Yes, he thought she did.
There we go, Gelbus. You’re on the right track, admitting you have a dratted drinking problem! That’s cause for a celebration. I think two drinks are in order!
But it was never just two drinks.
Gelbus would drown in his cups until his tongue was looser than a succubus on Earth. That’s what got him thrown out of the library in the Light Elves’ kingdom, what caused his wife to divorce him, and what caused him to get thrown out of the Abarract Club in his youth studies.
Gelbus didn’t have much to lose anymore, so what were a few a drinks with an old friend to him? A fun time, that’s what.
The lightning flashed again, and an instant later, he heard it strike the ground not too far away. He stopped.
“That was too close,” he muttered. “Maybe it’s a warning, an ill omen. Maybe you should turn around, Gelbus. Go home…or at least sleep the storm away in that little inn you saw back west.” Then he shook his head. “Oh, no, Gelbus. You are talking to yourself.”
He wished at that moment that the Gnomes of the library hadn’t taken his top hat away, the one with the flower.
