Prologue [PGTE]
KnownParadox
Not a sphere
- Location
- Canada
Salutations! Here I am on this wondrous day of our Lord and Saviour, Cthulu! And any and all decoys who would take me somewhere that isn't anyway that bad.
....Anyway, I am not here for theology, I am here to read a book. I hear plenty of good things about A Practical Guide To Evil, that's a bit long do I'm just gonna call it the Guide, although those good things were just "You should read it." and "Its great." So really I dont know much of anything. So theoretically, that should be good for your viewing pleasure, and mine.
From what I can guess from the title alone this story probably isn't gonna be your average fantasy story, doesnt sound like any knight in shining armour is going to be saving any princess' a round here, some sort of anti-hero maybe?
But that's enough talk and I dont like waiting, so let's see what the fuss is about.
I'll be reading the summary first because why not.
HEMHEM.
Our story begins with-
The Empire stands triumphant.
Well that's a thing, probably not nice people, this empire.
For twenty years the Dread Empress has ruled over the lands that were once the Kingdom of Callow,
Ooh names! This does seem to be confirming my theories. Dread Empress huh? Sounds suitably threatening, can't comment on Callow, but poor them I guess.
but behind the scenes of this dawning golden age threats to the crown are rising. The nobles of the Wasteland, denied the power they crave, weave their plots behind pleasant smiles.
I can't say the words nobles and Wasteland dont really jive together, but neat nonetheless, their demeanor seem like your average noble though.
In the north the Forever King eyes the ever-expanding borders of the Empire and ponders war.
....Fairies? Magic god emperor? Who knows. Is magic a thing? Dont tell me.
The greatest danger lies to the west, where the First Prince of Procer has finally claimed her throne: her people sundered, she wonders if a crusade might not be the way to secure her reign.
Because as we all know nothing went wrong with the Crusades.
Wait Prince? And is a girl? Neat, not sure if obvious mistake or on purpose.
Yet none of this matters, for in the heart of the conquered lands the most dangerous man alive sat across an orphan girl and offered her a knife.
Her name is Catherine Foundling, and she has a plan.
Sounds like this may very well be our erstwhile(am I using that word right?) protagonist! Foundling, interesting name, and what's this about the most dangerous man alive? All sounds very interesting!
That was the summary, already sounds interesting, so I'm just gonna keep going.
Onto the Prologue!
In the beginning, there were only the Gods.
Aeons untold passed as they drifted aimlessly through the Void, until they grew bored with this state of affairs. In their infinite wisdom they brought into existence Creation, but with Creation came discord. The Gods disagreed on the nature of things: some believed their children should be guided to greater things, while others believed that they must rule over the creatures they had made.
Already jumping straight into the Gods then alrighty, yada yada yada, creation story, there was nothing then Gods said let there be things, and then shit happens, cool. The other god seems like a dick, or your average person playing The Sims.
So, we are told, were born Good and Evil.
I imagine the the one who wanted to micromanage their joined Sims account is the evil one while the one who wanted to see what would happen if the Sims were left on there is the good one.
Ages passed in fruitless argument between them until finally a wager was agreed on: it would be the mortals that settled the matter, for strife between the gods would only result in the destruction of all. We know this wager as Fate, and thus Creation came to know war. Through the passing of the years grooves appeared in the workings of Fate, patterns repeated until they came into existence easier than not, and those grooves came to be called Roles. The Gods gifted these Roles with Names, and with those came power. We are all born free, but for every man and woman comes a time where a Choice must be made.
Sounds very interesting, Roles, Names, and Choice, is this our magic?
It is, we are told, the only choice that ever really matters."
– First page of the Book of All Things
Well that sounded ominous, kinda sudden for the Book of All Things to just drop on unsuspecting readers, bit much for the bed time Bible reading for the kids.
The sun was setting on a field of corpses.
Always a great start.
Black passed by a group of orcs building a pyre, nodding absently when they stopped piling up logs to salute – green eyes swept over the bloodied plains, taking in the devastation the Legions of Terror had wrought.
Legions of Terror? Whoever you are Black could you be anymore stereotypical?
Orcs exist, surprised there part of an army of sorts instead of an endless horde of green, but then again, "Legions of Terror", maybe this is just where the best fight is.
Camp fires were already burning in the distance, sprawled across the hills, and by the sound of it the officers had already distributed the night's ale rations. He would join them in time, but for a little longer he felt the need to stay here. To stand in the middle of what a decade of planning had brought forth. Callow's standing army had been annihilated today, over two thirds of their number slaughtered before they broke ranks.
Damn, they may sound like stormtroopers, but they seem to be doing well, unlike Callow, credits where it's due through, Callow seems like they held the line pretty damn well.
The Wizard of the West had fled, his power broken. Good King Edward's head had been popped off like a bottlecap by an ogre and the Shining Prince had been mobbed by a company of goblins until one drew a red smile across his throat.
More names! All seem like a bunch of heroes, probably supposed to be, can't help but notice the names, are these Roles? Names?
Goblins exist.
The Kingdom of Callow's strength had been crushed in the span of an afternoon, and Black would see to it that it never recovered.
"It's getting dark out, Black," the voice came from behind. "You should return to camp."
It never ceased to amuse him how a woman the size of Captain could be so eerily quiet. Even decked out in full plate, the olive-skinned woman had been noiseless in her approach. If not for the other senses that his Role afforded him, he would never have sensed her closing in. Turning to have a look at his right hand, Black raised an eyebrow when he was presented with the sight of Scribe standing next to the woman in question. Unusual of her to wander onto a battlefield, even one where the fighting was long over.
Black has a Role, it seems to grant enhanced senses, so I might be right about my magical theories. Scribe and Captain seem capitalized, so I assume they're Roles.
"Soon," he agreed. "Scribe, you have a report?"
The plain-faced woman fished out a scroll from the bandolier hanging across her shoulder and handed it to him without a word. Breaking the seal absently, Black unfurled the parchment and scanned the lines. A moment passed until the barest hint of a smile quirked his lips.
"That should keep the Procer occupied for the time being," he murmured. "By the time the fighting dies down we'll have the border secure."
Handing back the scroll to Scribe, he returned his attention to the battlefield. The companies assigned to the thankless work of burning the bodies would have to work through the night, at this rate. He'd have to see about arranging a rotation when he returned to camp, if sufficiently sober soldiers could be produced. A tall silhouette striding forward purposefully caught his attention as the dark-skinned man it belonged to deftly sidestepped a pair of orcs carrying a log twice the size of a grown man.
These dont seem like great people. Scribe seems like a secretary.
"You could have told me we were having an after-battle get together," Warlock teased as soon as he was close enough to be heard. "I'd have brought a few bottles, though admittedly the scenery's a little morbid for my tastes."
More people, Warlock has magic, maybe big magics.
Black rolled his eyes, though he caught Captain discreetly suppressing a smile. Scribe eyed Warlock with the same mild bemusement as always, as if she couldn't believe the charmingly smiling man standing in front of them had been the one to call down a rain of hellfire on the enemy barely an hour earlier. Not an unusual reaction: sorcerers with that kind of power were rarely so jovial.
Oh ok then, big magics it is, seing as all these fantasy things are appearing, I wonder if that fire was imported from an actual hell.
"Happenstance," he replied. "We'll be heading back to camp soon enough."
Warlock cast a look around, looking for the fifth member of their little band and coming up empty.
"Ranger's already gone?" he asked.
"As soon as the battle was done," Captain informed him.
The dark-skinned man grimaced.
"I didn't think she would actually…" he said, trailing off after a sideways look at Black's face.
"What's done is done," the Black Knight cut through, and that was the end of that.
Ooh Black Knight huh? I've been on Tvtropes long enough to see that. Interesting, Black seems important.
The four stood in silence for a long moment, watching the night slowly crawl over the fields of Streges.
"Ten years," Black finally said.
"Six, for the earliest ones," Scribe disagreed quietly.
Hmm?
With a last look at the battlefield, the Black Knight turned away without a word and started for camp. Warlock slung a friendly arm over Captain's shoulder, murmuring something that drew a smile from the much larger woman as Scribe methodically adjusted her bandolier before following. The Dread Empire of Praes may have won the war, but the clock was already ticking. The Legions of Terrors had made a lot of angry orphans through the afternoon's bloody work, and in time that would mean one thing –
Heroes.
As it has been proven, Legions of Terror are deathly allergic to Heroes, and so are Empires, so if they want to keep Pillage-izing around they want to avoid that.
And that's the end of the Prologue! We haven't seen Catherine yet, but this seems to be in the past.
All in all a good one, interesting starting with the villains, or Villains I guess, seeing as Heroes are capitalized, wonder what's gonna happen.
This is my first let's read so treat me gentle, or don't, whatever suits your fancy, no spoilers please, haven't been this blind since I played Undertale, or that time i played paintball and got hit.
Anyway, feel free to post, no Table of Contents for me, I got threadmarks for that.
....Anyway, I am not here for theology, I am here to read a book. I hear plenty of good things about A Practical Guide To Evil, that's a bit long do I'm just gonna call it the Guide, although those good things were just "You should read it." and "Its great." So really I dont know much of anything. So theoretically, that should be good for your viewing pleasure, and mine.
From what I can guess from the title alone this story probably isn't gonna be your average fantasy story, doesnt sound like any knight in shining armour is going to be saving any princess' a round here, some sort of anti-hero maybe?
But that's enough talk and I dont like waiting, so let's see what the fuss is about.
I'll be reading the summary first because why not.
HEMHEM.
Our story begins with-
The Empire stands triumphant.
Well that's a thing, probably not nice people, this empire.
For twenty years the Dread Empress has ruled over the lands that were once the Kingdom of Callow,
Ooh names! This does seem to be confirming my theories. Dread Empress huh? Sounds suitably threatening, can't comment on Callow, but poor them I guess.
but behind the scenes of this dawning golden age threats to the crown are rising. The nobles of the Wasteland, denied the power they crave, weave their plots behind pleasant smiles.
I can't say the words nobles and Wasteland dont really jive together, but neat nonetheless, their demeanor seem like your average noble though.
In the north the Forever King eyes the ever-expanding borders of the Empire and ponders war.
....Fairies? Magic god emperor? Who knows. Is magic a thing? Dont tell me.
The greatest danger lies to the west, where the First Prince of Procer has finally claimed her throne: her people sundered, she wonders if a crusade might not be the way to secure her reign.
Because as we all know nothing went wrong with the Crusades.
Wait Prince? And is a girl? Neat, not sure if obvious mistake or on purpose.
Yet none of this matters, for in the heart of the conquered lands the most dangerous man alive sat across an orphan girl and offered her a knife.
Her name is Catherine Foundling, and she has a plan.
Sounds like this may very well be our erstwhile(am I using that word right?) protagonist! Foundling, interesting name, and what's this about the most dangerous man alive? All sounds very interesting!
That was the summary, already sounds interesting, so I'm just gonna keep going.
Onto the Prologue!
In the beginning, there were only the Gods.
Aeons untold passed as they drifted aimlessly through the Void, until they grew bored with this state of affairs. In their infinite wisdom they brought into existence Creation, but with Creation came discord. The Gods disagreed on the nature of things: some believed their children should be guided to greater things, while others believed that they must rule over the creatures they had made.
Already jumping straight into the Gods then alrighty, yada yada yada, creation story, there was nothing then Gods said let there be things, and then shit happens, cool. The other god seems like a dick, or your average person playing The Sims.
So, we are told, were born Good and Evil.
I imagine the the one who wanted to micromanage their joined Sims account is the evil one while the one who wanted to see what would happen if the Sims were left on there is the good one.
Ages passed in fruitless argument between them until finally a wager was agreed on: it would be the mortals that settled the matter, for strife between the gods would only result in the destruction of all. We know this wager as Fate, and thus Creation came to know war. Through the passing of the years grooves appeared in the workings of Fate, patterns repeated until they came into existence easier than not, and those grooves came to be called Roles. The Gods gifted these Roles with Names, and with those came power. We are all born free, but for every man and woman comes a time where a Choice must be made.
Sounds very interesting, Roles, Names, and Choice, is this our magic?
It is, we are told, the only choice that ever really matters."
– First page of the Book of All Things
Well that sounded ominous, kinda sudden for the Book of All Things to just drop on unsuspecting readers, bit much for the bed time Bible reading for the kids.
The sun was setting on a field of corpses.
Always a great start.
Black passed by a group of orcs building a pyre, nodding absently when they stopped piling up logs to salute – green eyes swept over the bloodied plains, taking in the devastation the Legions of Terror had wrought.
Legions of Terror? Whoever you are Black could you be anymore stereotypical?
Orcs exist, surprised there part of an army of sorts instead of an endless horde of green, but then again, "Legions of Terror", maybe this is just where the best fight is.
Camp fires were already burning in the distance, sprawled across the hills, and by the sound of it the officers had already distributed the night's ale rations. He would join them in time, but for a little longer he felt the need to stay here. To stand in the middle of what a decade of planning had brought forth. Callow's standing army had been annihilated today, over two thirds of their number slaughtered before they broke ranks.
Damn, they may sound like stormtroopers, but they seem to be doing well, unlike Callow, credits where it's due through, Callow seems like they held the line pretty damn well.
The Wizard of the West had fled, his power broken. Good King Edward's head had been popped off like a bottlecap by an ogre and the Shining Prince had been mobbed by a company of goblins until one drew a red smile across his throat.
More names! All seem like a bunch of heroes, probably supposed to be, can't help but notice the names, are these Roles? Names?
Goblins exist.
The Kingdom of Callow's strength had been crushed in the span of an afternoon, and Black would see to it that it never recovered.
"It's getting dark out, Black," the voice came from behind. "You should return to camp."
It never ceased to amuse him how a woman the size of Captain could be so eerily quiet. Even decked out in full plate, the olive-skinned woman had been noiseless in her approach. If not for the other senses that his Role afforded him, he would never have sensed her closing in. Turning to have a look at his right hand, Black raised an eyebrow when he was presented with the sight of Scribe standing next to the woman in question. Unusual of her to wander onto a battlefield, even one where the fighting was long over.
Black has a Role, it seems to grant enhanced senses, so I might be right about my magical theories. Scribe and Captain seem capitalized, so I assume they're Roles.
"Soon," he agreed. "Scribe, you have a report?"
The plain-faced woman fished out a scroll from the bandolier hanging across her shoulder and handed it to him without a word. Breaking the seal absently, Black unfurled the parchment and scanned the lines. A moment passed until the barest hint of a smile quirked his lips.
"That should keep the Procer occupied for the time being," he murmured. "By the time the fighting dies down we'll have the border secure."
Handing back the scroll to Scribe, he returned his attention to the battlefield. The companies assigned to the thankless work of burning the bodies would have to work through the night, at this rate. He'd have to see about arranging a rotation when he returned to camp, if sufficiently sober soldiers could be produced. A tall silhouette striding forward purposefully caught his attention as the dark-skinned man it belonged to deftly sidestepped a pair of orcs carrying a log twice the size of a grown man.
These dont seem like great people. Scribe seems like a secretary.
"You could have told me we were having an after-battle get together," Warlock teased as soon as he was close enough to be heard. "I'd have brought a few bottles, though admittedly the scenery's a little morbid for my tastes."
More people, Warlock has magic, maybe big magics.
Black rolled his eyes, though he caught Captain discreetly suppressing a smile. Scribe eyed Warlock with the same mild bemusement as always, as if she couldn't believe the charmingly smiling man standing in front of them had been the one to call down a rain of hellfire on the enemy barely an hour earlier. Not an unusual reaction: sorcerers with that kind of power were rarely so jovial.
Oh ok then, big magics it is, seing as all these fantasy things are appearing, I wonder if that fire was imported from an actual hell.
"Happenstance," he replied. "We'll be heading back to camp soon enough."
Warlock cast a look around, looking for the fifth member of their little band and coming up empty.
"Ranger's already gone?" he asked.
"As soon as the battle was done," Captain informed him.
The dark-skinned man grimaced.
"I didn't think she would actually…" he said, trailing off after a sideways look at Black's face.
"What's done is done," the Black Knight cut through, and that was the end of that.
Ooh Black Knight huh? I've been on Tvtropes long enough to see that. Interesting, Black seems important.
The four stood in silence for a long moment, watching the night slowly crawl over the fields of Streges.
"Ten years," Black finally said.
"Six, for the earliest ones," Scribe disagreed quietly.
Hmm?
With a last look at the battlefield, the Black Knight turned away without a word and started for camp. Warlock slung a friendly arm over Captain's shoulder, murmuring something that drew a smile from the much larger woman as Scribe methodically adjusted her bandolier before following. The Dread Empire of Praes may have won the war, but the clock was already ticking. The Legions of Terrors had made a lot of angry orphans through the afternoon's bloody work, and in time that would mean one thing –
Heroes.
As it has been proven, Legions of Terror are deathly allergic to Heroes, and so are Empires, so if they want to keep Pillage-izing around they want to avoid that.
And that's the end of the Prologue! We haven't seen Catherine yet, but this seems to be in the past.
All in all a good one, interesting starting with the villains, or Villains I guess, seeing as Heroes are capitalized, wonder what's gonna happen.
This is my first let's read so treat me gentle, or don't, whatever suits your fancy, no spoilers please, haven't been this blind since I played Undertale, or that time i played paintball and got hit.
Anyway, feel free to post, no Table of Contents for me, I got threadmarks for that.
