Aeoryi

Tales of the King's Folly: Chapter 10

The city of Northernmast, the polar outpost of the Western empire, is surprisingly dirty. 

Even the high imperial parts of the city where the rich prove their wealth are disgusting. It did no solace to the show of money to own a trashed street. A well-made street made no difference if it was poorly maintained. 

The design choices are strange. The roads are made of interlocking bricks, with a massive silver line running in the center of the road, accented with cryptic purple glyphs. That must be the improvements the Western Emperor made when he last visited Northernmast. I already know where to go. I have been here before, and most of the sights are not new to my eye. I make my way down to an information center, owned by the city council.

The city council did do good things for the city, but it was all just to make the people happy. For every good thing the city council did there was 5 bad things as well. But they had met the Emperor's whims, and had kept their place because of it. The central kingdom never had these problems. It was not a very large rule, and was not ruled with an iron fist like the Western Empire. If the Western Emperor was to be described as ruling with an iron fist then the King ruled with a weak, scrwny grasp. The King barely held onto his title through his endless propaganda and falsified claims.

I finally end up at the information center. I have a brief discussion with the people there, and then I am told to follow the powerlines. The powerlines lead to through the rural district, so I am forced to walk by hungry beggars and boney citizens who have done nothing to deserve their situation but yet have no hope of a future outside of Northernmast.

Where the imperial district was sharp and shiny, the rural district seems dusty and unfinished. All the colors are muted and dull, and the roads are hardly marked. The tents are packed closely together, as a sign of mercy from the imperial district. The rural were allowed to live - under the imperials' terms. People scattered about, and communal fires and unsucessful businesses dot the streets.

The powerline is unhindered through the damped spirits of the rural area. It is silvery with the strange glyphs etched in purple, and has a good clear area. The people here must have respected the emperor's gift; it was applied to both the rich for their power and the poor for a central point, a unity.

I pick up some food and a bag and start heading south, following the powerline. It takes days to reach the next civilation, even with the small towns dotted within the western empire. I reach the sight of something breaking the horizon, and as I grow closer I can see that it is a small town. Even closer, and I can see the state of ruin that it is in.

All the signs point to Whismald desecrating this once-peaceful rest stop. The powerful ice demon would've found it amusing to wipe out the town.

The town is only partially ruined. The houses are half destroyed. The broken glass on the ground pairs perfectly with the crumbled brick settlements, and a few piles of ashes lie on the ground. The worst thing to see is what happened to the powerline.

It has erupted in some places, leaving strange purple liquid fire that was inky as darkness, yet outlined in this neon pink. It drains the will to go on just seeing this monsterous creation. The powerline is still intact on some paths, however on most it is crushed. The silver coating of the pipe to the north has been broken in some places, and a liquid that is completely different than the purple shadowflame is visable.

The liquid inside the powerline is pinkish-white, with magenta outlines like the shadowflame that lies around here as a result of the Ice Melter. The liquid appears volitile, almost as bright as the strange blackflame and yet is always thrashing as if containing a sort of beast. The power is in liquid form, and leaves pockets of corroded stone where it spills from the main line. What a strange thing to have inside a pipe.

I walk through the ruins of the town that once stood here, now replaced by violent liquid and mysterious shadowflame as a result of Whismald's passage here in his fit of rage. I wonder if this is a result of my actions. Have I really unleashed a demon onto this world?

 My thoughts are interupted when a living terror crawls out from the corrosive pink-white fluid.