15
Apr 2016Posted by Daniel Sharp / in Lore / 11 comments
[Read the Introduction]
Ok, so I’ve found YEARS of journal entries, and as I go thru it, some context was clearly necessary. Searching for “Thalia Gordon” brings up very little, but “Okane” is all over the Archives. I’ll talk more about him as I go, but the first bit here is an old AENet alert dated April 3rd, 2100.
05
Mar 2015Posted by Daniel Sharp / in Lore / 16 comments
Just who is Thalia Gordon?
I can’t find any official record of her in the databases. According to Minerva, no such an individual ever existed.
And yet, she keeps popping up when I read original, un-indexed documents.
Who is she, and why has she been erased from the Archives?
10
Jun 2014Posted by Daniel Sharp / in Lore / 17 comments
[This is the last post/part to this collaborative story. You can start Part 1 and read it from the beginning. Thanks again to Josh Conner for working on this awesome story with me!]
03
Jun 2014Posted by Daniel Sharp / in Lore / 3 comments
[Did you miss Part 1? Thanks again to Josh Conner for working on this awesome story with me!]
October 31st
I have never seen a guillotine, but I have always been dreadfully fascinated by them, thanks in part to a title by Daniel Gerould on the subject. It describes the machine and its history in exquisite detail. I have read it twice. This makes it quite easy to put my state of mind into an accurate metaphor. My head is stocked. The lunette is tight around my neck, blood-warped and prickling splinters against my skin. I am alone and waiting for the blade. I can see my executioner waiting beside me. It is not Sergeant Karim Hassan. I see myself. My own hands, stained with ink, gripping the release. I have made so many mistakes, and ignoring Thalia’s message last night was my most egregious error yet. It very nearly cost Angus Grant his life, and it has certainly cost me mine.
27
May 2014Posted by Daniel Sharp / in Lore / 3 comments
[Did you miss Part 1? Thanks again to Josh Conner for working on this awesome story with me!]
October 30th
I am now writing with Brandt’s ballpoint pen. It is a degradation I can live with if it means the continuation of my journal. He also knows that I keep a journal now, and I believe he is discreetly searching for it, but I will keep the pages folded up in my jacket from now on. I have to maintain a grip on something in this world. Everything is slipping out of control. Our way of life, in service to the Voices, has become unfixed. Brandt has been tugging at the seams, gently, gradually, and now the threads are unraveling of their own volition. I have read about too many religions to choose one for myself, but the Devil is a recurring figure in many of them, and though I may not be able to choose a god, I can clearly see that Hermann Brandt is the Devil. The antithesis. The corruptor. The world-destroyer.