"What specifically is it about the contents of this book that inspires meaning in others? Can it account for our current state of existence? I seek answers, you see, that will make clear the nature of our survival after death," Squirrel Grills wonders of the worshiper, who seems knowledgeable in these matters.
"The Holy Book of Questions has no answers. Only questions. Hence its brilliance," the worshiper explains.
"More difficult and less difficult ones, but only questions. And these are more important than mere answers."Thomas, for his part, begins to play mind-numbingly awful music on the bottles along the wall, providing an oddly appropriate, if still offensively terrible soundtrack to the entire affair. The worshiper gives him a glance, his shriveled hand passing over his gun, but he seems to decide that perhaps he will give this player a chance.
CLONE, meanwhile, does the sensible thing and shoves his finger into the groove, whereupon it disappears immediately and painlessly, leaving CLONE's original body short one armored index finger. The pillar seems vaguely satisfied now.
Just as the plot thickens in the room, however, Starn Gundar shuffles in after two solid weeks of wandering, looking resplendent in his new helmet.
* * * * *
Salty Pete, wishing to be the captain of this fine vessel, begins to do as any fine captain of a finer vessel and hollers at his crew in his weak, sand-filled voice.
"No. You're doing it wrong. LISTEN TO YOUR CAPTAIN! We are going west.""It doesn't matter which way we go," one sailor says.
"And shut it, will you?" another tells the captain.
"You're not the boss of us," the last says.
Captain Salty Pete is not one to take such abuse, so he solves the problem of dissent the best way he knows how. He shambles up to one of the sailors slowly, and gives him his strongest push, which is as feeble as you would expect an ancient corpse to produce. But the corpse he is trying to push is comparably ancient, and so it falls over. It takes it a good two minutes to get back up, at which point it pushes back, though it does not succeed at toppling the captain. And the captain, with a slightly feebler push than before, having spent a lot of energy on that last attempt, pushes the sailor down once more. As it takes three minutes to get up, he orders the others to do as he says or face the same fate - he shall brook no mutiny on this vessel.
The message has been given, and the sailors realize who is the true master here, and immediately they act on his orders, turning to face the opposite direction. As they pass the booze chest, he orders his new minions to scoop it up - they do so without delay. And so they sail westward for a year or so, contemplating whether to drop the horses or not under such unfavorable conditions. They ultimately decide in favor of it, but the conditions do not improve much. Luckily, though, they are already dead.
Chapter 1W - A WeddingEventually they reach the site of a grand yard, at which hundreds of people seem to have gathered, facing an old corpse wearing a wreath standing next to another old corpse wearing a wreath - a pile of bricks is laid out on a nearby table, and the most ancient corpse of all, one wearing a tall hat, seems to be looking through a book of some sort.
"... ah, here it is... why do you believe that your current place is your actual place?" the corpse asks of the two, who seem to be looking at him incredulously, or at least without any form of conviction in their hollow, evaporated eyes. None of the people here seem to have noticed the Red Barnacle's approach, strangely.
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Topic: Ephemeral Games: Game 2, the Fearsome Dominion of Radix (Read 25190 times)