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     “Ah! You’ve finally arrived. Good! Good! Sit no wait, stand no.. no, sit. There isn’t much time and far too much to explain…”

Prologue

The air is thick, stale coffee clinging to the scent of dust and old books....

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Haze clings to the cramped office at the back of the tavern, where a small man behind green spectacles mutters in a storm of scrolls, sputtering screens, and a frantic clatter of keys. He hadn’t noticed you yet.

 

“Damn you Arundel …” he spat, the name sour on his tongue. “Festering boil, that’s what you are. A boil on the arse of creation. And the Enpeacie? Hah! Blind kittens in a blizzard, stumbling, tripping over each other. Meh… Can’t even find their own tails…

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He yanks a scroll from the pile, squints, then hurls it aside.... 

 

Rubbish. Contradictions stacked on illusion. Artifacts scattered…bones of the gods mockery! How do you stitch that together, huh?

Arundel Prophesies: The Enpeacie Prologue (cont.)

        â€‹“ Inconsistencies tied up in knots of living vipers, that’s what you are, that’s what you are all right…” He laughed once, too loud, then coughed into his sleeve. “The Stoneway… Go ahead boys, just wander down that road as if on a gentle stroll to the slaughterhouse? Paah... Suicide parades dressed up as destiny. Councils, Elders Ha a ha? What are you doing. Don’t get me started. You fat leeches. Draining coin while the world bleeds dry, while droning on about peace. Peace, oh your oath of peace…”

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His chair squeals loudly as he spins to the invisible keyboard, fingers tapping like a madman bickering with ghosts. “Deadlines, damnation, ink that dries too fast… a poor wretch, that’s me. Sewing torn reality back together with gallows thread and half-chewed quills.”

 

At last, his eyes flicker up, as for the first time he seems to notice you. The torrent of words breaks into a grin.

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“Ah. What have we here?” he cackled. “A new champion? Oh, by all means, step right up, Commander. Always sneaking up on us, aren’t you? Always…” He trailed off, muttering to himself again. “Shadows in the morning… ninjas at teatime…lurking at all hours of the… humph, yes, yes…”

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His gaze snaps back, sudden and sharp. “Come on, step in I haven’t got all day, you know. We have been expecting you.” He mutters something to himself, waves one hand dismissively, then leans in, half-heartedly, “Oh, forgive the foul mood, will you Commander, Arundel. It reeks of madness. It’s the local perfume you know. But still… it’s story, it’s worth stealing from the jaws of oblivion.”

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He adjusts his spectacles, mutters to himself. “Ink-stained hands, broken lore, never enough time… He refocuses on you, as you notice flecks of gold behind the green tinted glasses “Very well,” he continues, “you are the Commander. I am Narrator, that’s me, or what’s left of me and this is The Arundel Prophecies: The Enpeacie. A choose-your-own-ending tale, as you probably already are aware. You will live or die by your choices. Grim death? Oh yes, yes, very likely. Victory? Uh…Rare, rare, rare. Either way hmm, keeps the pen moving does it not.” He smiled with a gleam in his eye

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The cracked monitor beside him flickered green. He tapped it absently, frowning. “Ah. Always too soon. Why, we are not even ready yet.” He smacks the monitor again, always interrupts, damn static, by the hells” He stopped, then smiled knowingly. “But you’ll need help. You will. Everyone does and this is where your partner comes in.”

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The glow from the monitor begins to swell, washing the office pale green. He chuckles, half weary, half delighted. “Ah, here she comes. My part’s finished, your real trouble starts now.” He winks, as the glow continues to magnify in intensity. Then a bright electrifying lime green pop, everything goes dark… there is a long silence.

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