Nice chapters, but I don't think the ghosts in Ascalon City thing happens until twenty-some years after EOTN, when Kalla Scorchrazor leads the conquest of Ascalon. Still, good stuff all around.
Nice chapters, but I don't think the ghosts in Ascalon City thing happens until twenty-some years after EOTN, when Kalla Scorchrazor leads the conquest of Ascalon. Still, good stuff all around.
"Soon" is a very vague term, my friend. In the scope of a kingdom's history, that is but the blink of an eye.
Besides, some intentional hyperbole should be expected considering the situation. And while the attack on Ascalon City occurs 20 years after, the actual war goes on long before that. Let's just say it doesn't take anyone by surprise.
Author's Note: Just about done here. Seriously. I promise. These last couple of posts are going to be considerably longer than the previous ones, but that's not going to be a bother, is it?. You can hang on, can't you?
Epilogue: Part One
He could hear his Auntie Gwen calling for him from the bottom of the rise, and pouted. Auntie Gwen wasn't around all that often, and so he didn't want to be wasting time... how could grown-ups be so slow?
He popped his head over the steep rise, and called out, “Up here!”
Gwen was literally right below him by about ten feet. She put her hands on her hips, and said, “Allister, you promised your mommy you'd be good.”
“I am, auntie!” Allister protested, “But I want to show you the garden before you have to go again!”
“I'm not leaving tonight, kiddo, we have plenty of time.” The mesmer answered. “I'm gonna find a way up. You don't move from that spot, understand?”
Allister nodded in affirmation, and retreated from the edge to wait. However, patience was like a fine wine... it came with age. Thus, three year olds generally were not known for their patience... little Allister was no exception.
“Auntie Gwen! Are you coming?” The boy called out. A rustle through the evergreens ahead of him caught his attention... a rustling followed by a series of clicking or clacking sounds. Curiosity getting the better of him, he started to approach the grove.
He hadn't even taken four steps before a hand grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back. This proved to be a good thing, as the pack of mandragor that burst from the foilage would have ripped the child to pieces within seconds had he continued his path.
“Shadow!” Allister yelped in glee. He could only remember seeing the black robed figure once before, a vague memory from a period where memories are scant in a child's mind. An unclear promise from his shadow, to always be there when he was in danger.
The figure moved with the very shadows that bore its name, flashing into striking distance of the mandragors, its scythe moving nimbly from its back to its hands and to the attack. One vicious downward chop delivered enough of a mortal wound to the Scavenger that emerged that it was no longer a threat, flopping wildly and bleeding profusely on the cold ground.
That prompted the rest of the pack to turn their attention to the near and present threat, rather than the largely defenseless young. The Ulcerous Mandragor attempted to shield itself as it sensed the robed opponent near it, but never got time to finish the attempt, it's carapace and concentration shattered by a swift lateral swipe from the spinning humanoid creature.
Shadow ground its left heel into the icy ground, ceasing its spin, and using that abrupt stop in momentum to fling it's scythe through the air, and into the head of a Mystic Mandragor that had turned in an attempt to attack Allister, thinking the shrouded human was occupied.
Another shadow step brought Shadow to its weapon again, drawing the scythe out of its now dying victim, and down in a decapitating chop upon the last mandragor.
By that time, the sounds of battle had drawn more of the large insect beasts, but had also drawn reinforcements from the priory as well. Gwen and Grazz had arrived first, getting a brief glimpse of Shadow before the robed figure vanished from sight for good, before the remainder of the support could arrive.
Cynn's arrival was marked by the flash and ignition of fire upon most everything flammable. Eve's proximity was proven by the remains of the slain mandragor stirring back to animated undeath. The whistle of arrows betrayed Aidan's position... and everyone became aware of Devona's presence the moment she began crushing every non-human thing she could get her hammer on for daring to attack her son.
It didn't take much for the mandragor to decide this food wasn't worth trying to aquire. What had seemed to be easy prey had turned into a massacre of their numbers, and fell into frantic retreat from the humans.
“Mooooommieeee!!!” Allister complained as Devona gathered up the boy, and buried her chin in his hair, picking him up off the ground and hugging him fiercely.
“Don't ever run away from anyone!” The warrior woman scolded. “It's dangerous out here alone!”
“But I wasn't alone!” Allister protested. “Shadow was with me! Shadow is always with me!”
Devona had entertained Allister's imaginary friend... finding it very helpful in dispelling the child's worries from the nighttime jitters, but realized now was the time to put her foot down. “Young man, while I am sure Shadow is very brave against the monsters in the closet, I doubt she would be much use against beasts like these. Now, you get back to the Priory before you make your punishment worse.”
“But mommieeee... I wanted to show Auntie Gwen my garden!”
“Auntie Gwen will be here tomorrow, and if you don't cause any more trouble, we'll all go to the garden then. Now march, young man!”
Aidan spoke up before Devona could walk out of earshot. “The mandragor are getting bolder as of late, and seem to be moving south. There might be a hive around here. Gwen, Grazz, and I will scout around and see if we can find it.”
The warrior nodded in acknowledgment, Cynn taking her leave to attend to her own child who she had left in quite a rush after the sounds of battle had reached her ears. Granted, Mhenlo had stayed behind with their daughter, but Cynn had gained quite the motherly side since the birth of her first child, and did not want to leave her little darling's side for terribly long... determined not to be distant and aloof like her mother was.
Eve gave the area the once over, and decided there wasn't any more fun to be found at this point, and forlornly slouched off after Cynn, but taking a right rather than a left at the base of the rise, where she had constructed her own little dwelling and "research" site a year before.
Once it was only the three “scouts” remaining on the cliff, a woman's voice issued from the trees, “I've already taken care of the hive. But it is true that they are migrating further south than usual. I'll keep an eye on it when I can.”
“There's something going on further north.” Gwen said, shivering from a combination of the cold and the uncertain dread that she had been feeling whenever she went out into the wilderness areas of the Shiverpeaks. “I don't know what... but something... is slowly building out there.”
“It's not just the mandragor, either.” Aidan replied, “Norn scouts are reporting that the Kodan are coming closer to shore and further south than ever before. Not in any large numbers, but my friends among the Norn tell me they too are feeling... something... off about the northern reaches. Jora tells me that they've had more 'Nornbears' emerging, and from Norn that are further and further away from Drakkar Lake.”
“I know that there's four of us on guard when I'm around, but I'm not all that often.” Gwen said. “I'm not sure the three of you will be enough.”
“I'm making arrangements to solve that problem as we speak.” The voice answered. “Reinforcements should be arriving on that score.”
“Who?” Aiden asked.
“That's a need-to-know basis, and you don't need to know yet.” The hidden woman retorted. “Now, I suggest you all stop milling about in one place lest someone down below starts getting suspicious.”
“Grazz, Gwen, get going.” Aiden ordered. “I'm not quite done here.”
The Charr and the mesmer grinned knowingly as they took two separate paths into the foilage. Once alone, Aidan stepped forward so he was out of sight of the Priory and said, “Alright, you've had your fun, now get out here.”
“You can't order me around.” The hiding woman replied.
“Now.” Aidan insisted sternly.
Like a petulant child, the cloaked figure known as Shadow reluctantly emerged from the trees. “Fine. Here I am. What do you want?”
Aidan put his left hand on her shoulder, and attempted to push down her cowl with the right. “You know what I want.”
“Don't.” She replied. “You know I don't like you seeing my face.”
With a sly grin, he said, “I would think having seen a lot more than your face several times by now that you wouldn't be so shy about it.”
There was a resigned huff, and finally a reluctant capitulation. “Very well... if you must.”
The cowl finally dropped to Shadow's neck, and Aidan smiled in approval as he admired the almond skin and striking Canthan features, despite her self-consciousness about the badly burned and scarred left side of her face, scarring that he knew from personal experience covered much of her left side... scarring that she didn't attempt to have healed because she felt she should look just as ugly on the outside as she felt on the inside.
He felt she failed miserably on that score. Sure, it wasn't what either of them had dreamed for... but it was good enough.
She pretended to passively accept his short kiss on her lips, and said with a hint of impatience, “Are you done? I have a meeting I must attend promptly.”
“So I take it we're not meeting after nightfall?”
Yue paused, “Now, I didn't say that...”
The ranger released the... Aidan paused a moment, then asked as he pointed to the scythe on her back, “Since when did you become a Dervish?”
“I've known some dervish skills for a while. Learned them in Atal Ra during my stay... I found some of the skills complimented my traditional assassin's training nicely.” Yue replied. “Lately... it felt right to use the weapon as well.”
“I like the look.” Aidan joked. “Black hooded figure wielding a scythe, all serious, ill-tempered and misunderstood, threshing foes like grain.”
The assassin snorted, and lifted her cowl back over her head, “Right... I'm just a damned grim reaper or something. Now, I have to go.” Yue then whirled about and retreated back into the forest, but not before tossing back a flippant, “I'll see you tonight. Don't be late.”
She disappeared back into the forest, keeping her distance from Grazz and Pyre as they “scouted” the area. A half hour later, she was at a distance where she felt it was safe to have her meeting.
“It's clear.” Yue declared, dropping to a crouch next to a nearby tree, where another secretive figure stood on the other side of the thick trunk. “I understand you know most of the people at the Priory, though.”
“I do.” The aged male replied, “And they think they know me. Nevertheless, I prefer to remain out of sight, much like you, Yue.”
The assassin grinned, “I won't ask how you figured out my name, Jurah.”
That gave the Master of Whispers pause. “Well, since it's clear we are already well ahead of the children's games, I suppose we can get down to business. I suspect it pertains to the child you rescued earlier.”
“Allister, son of Devona and the supposedly deceased Coran... heir to the throne of Ascalon.” Yue confirmed.
“I'm sure... I am told that Coran wishes for his true identity, and the heritage of his family to be secret. Besides, King Adelbern banished the whole lot of them.” The Master said dismissively.
“The 'banishment' was for show, to keep the new royal family from the dangers of the escalating Charr war.” Yue countered. “Considering that the human kingdom has lost several key battles already, I can understand why. If Ascalon holds out until the end of this decade, I'll be impressed.”
“Don't underestimate the resolve of Ascalon.” The Master of Whispers challenged, “It'll see the end of this decade, and possibly the next as well. Just you watch.”
Turning the topic back on task, Yue then said, “As for Coran's wishes... I think this is one case where he is making both the right and the wrong choice. Perhaps it is a good thing for the world to think the line of Doric in Ascalon has ended for now. But... I can't put my finger on it... but I don't think that knowledge should be lost forever.”
Yue turned her head northward. “There's something building out there, in the wilds... and not just to the north. It's all around us. The death of Bhu'kahuh has emboldened something else, something even older in this world. It's growing in strength... I don't know when... I don't know how... but it's coming. The knowledge that a noble line of a once noble land still lives... I think it will be good for the world of the future.”
The Master of Whispers pondered this, “I see. You aren't the only one to feel the ill omens, my girl. As for the fate of Ascalon's royal family, I'm inclined to agree. I've been looking to expand the Order of Whispers... this seems like as good of a place as any... on one condition.”
“I want you to lead the chapter.”
Yue raised her eyebrows as the Master of Whispers spoke again. “You already have a leadership structure in place. You already know how to move and act unseen. You already are at least passably familiar with the circles of influence and power on this continent. It would take too much time for me to train one of my inner circle to the task... and besides... I'm retired.”
“Yeah, and Grenth has tired of gathering souls.”
The Master of Whispers stepped away from the tree. “A squad from my order will be sent to the Priory with as much haste as they can. If questioned, their purpose is that I have decided the history and documents to be worth preservation... I'll even use it to store information the Order has collected as well... it will kill two birds with one stone.”
“You get another location to harbor your secrets, and preserve the line of Ascalon. Clever.” Yue noted, “So, when should I begin recruiting?”
But by that point, the Master of Whispers had completed his business, and had left as silently as he came. “I'll take that to mean as of now.” Yue groused to herself, and stood. She had a lot of work to do...
Last edited by chemiclord; 15-12-2009 at 10:15.
oooooooh, i love the change with yue! but i want to know more about the burns.....
Author's Note: And this... is it. Finally. Maybe. I guess.
Epilogue: Part Two
“Your father should be home some time today. If you're good, I'll tell him what you did.” Devona chided as she escorted Allister to his room.
She didn't misspeak. Coran had the tendency to be more lenient towards their son, and would more often than not convince her to lessen any punishments, citing such 'developmental behaviors' dealing with young children... something about at Allister's age, the threat of punishment and the initial punishment are much more effective towards correcting behavior due to the still developing mental and cognitive connections in a young child's memory than prolonged punishment.
One day, she'd have to learn what he was talking about. She found it hard to be stern when it seemed like he knew more about child rearing than her.
Said scholar was supposedly on the return trip from the Eye of the North, the most recent of several trips. Each time, he returned with a smile on his face, clearly pleased with himself and whatever he had discovered. She cattily wondered why he hadn't chose to have them live there in the first place if it was so damned interesting.
Devona shook her head of that somewhat spiteful thought... it wasn't particularly fair, and she understood why the Eye of the North would not have been a suitable place to stay, much less start a family. And she had to admit, this part of the world was fairly peaceful save from the occasional hive of Mandragors moving southward.
She also knew that the only reason her husband went this time was because Gwen had strongly suggested he do so. She didn't know many details, but from what she had gleaned, the Eye of the North went further down than anyone expected... a team found several floors below, and something down there that bore the name “Doric.” Needless to say, something buried below a construction that supposedly predated mankind, bearing the name of a human king, was a curiosity worthy of study.
Devona worried about him when he went on such scholarly exploits; even though he had done them most of his adult life, and was in some way better guarded now than he was ever before. There were so many things that could happen.
She found herself standing outside his study, where she usually went whenever she had such worries. Devona found it eased her nerves. Resolving to keep an ear open in case Allister tried to sneak out of his room, Devona slid open the study door, and stepped inside.
Coran (with the help of everyone) kept the Priory in pristine condition and in perfect order, both for appearances and for easy access to information for anyone visiting. Which made it such delicious irony that his personal study was a minor disaster. Paper, either flat, folded, or crumpled, cluttered both desks and the floor, along with pencils, folders, parchment, tapestry shards, artifacts, relics, etc...
To be fair, she was partially at fault, as she was not the easiest student, prone to having fits of frustration in her own studies, and throwing whatever she had in her hand rather violently during said fits. Coran often wondered if she acted the same way apprenticing as a warrior as she was when learning early mathematics. In truth, she had (and the walls of Barradin's training hall attested to that fact).
Devona stooped down to pick up a handful of pencils that were on the floor in a more traveled part of the floor when the noticed something out of place even for the usual mess. A very thick, black, leather-bound journal, worn with considerable age, and bearing the mark of the royal family of Ascalon on its cover; Coran's personal journal. He must have accidentally dropped it as he was leaving. Even at its current size, he normally took it with him whenever he left the Priory for an extended period of time, presumably to take notes on what he had found, but she also knew it contained many of his private thoughts.
The warrior felt rather guilty just thinking about reading what her husband had written inside. While he had never forbidden her to read it, he had never exactly given his permission to do so either. But her curiosity to examine what innermost thoughts rested in his mind won out, and with a naughty grin, Devona snatched up the journal, sat down at the chair in front of her desk, and opened it to the first page.
Devona hadn't learned to read or write until she was twelve, and was tapped to begin her career in the Ascalon military. Coran had clearly been taught such literacy at a much younger age, as the first entry described his thoughts after they had first met. She had been four, he must have been five or six.
I met a girl today, a daughter of my father's friend. Her name is Devona. My father seemed a little too happy to see us meet. I am a little scared of that, but Devona is nice anyway. She likes to hit me, but it doesn't hurt too much. A very strange girl.
He thought she was strange? She had thought him odd... wondering where all the books were, and not the least bit interested in her hammer, so she tapped him with it to get his attention. Her mother had been absolutely mortified, although both Adelbern and her father had laughed quite happily at the exchange. It was one of the last memories she had of her father in fact... until she finally met his spirit within the Hall of Heroes...
Shaking the recollection out of her mind, she dove back into Coran's journal, skipping the next few pages, as they held little interest to her until she noticed her name again.
I learned today that Devona and I were betrothed by our fathers. I want to be mad about it; I promised I wouldn't let myself be traded off like a dolyak to the noble with the largest dowry like my brother was to that screeching harpy Althea... but I really can't manage the anger. I like Devona, she isn't fake or prissy or irritatingly proper. She's a nice girl, and seems to actually like me for who I am. I can tell, she's the only person other than my brother and sometimes my father who calls me just Coran. I'm not a prince to her... I'm just me, and I like that.
She started to close the journal, rather embarrassed. Even though he was talking about her, and he hadn't written anything yet that he hadn't actually said to her face, it still was his very personal thoughts... she shouldn't... but...
Maybe if she didn't read the stuff about her, it wouldn't be so embarrassing. She turned three more pages, and randomly picked something.
I've found myself wondering... it's clear even to my eyes the resemblance between the feral cats of Ascalon and Tyria and the Charr. It's quite evident they share some sort of distant kinship. Other animals in the world are the same way... they bear many similarities with each other. So, why doesn't anything in the world look like us? I am told of a people called the Norn who live far to the north, that somewhat look like us, only much larger, but why doesn't any more primitive creature have features like us humans? I am told there are great apes in the jungles west of Kryta. Perhaps if I ever get the chance, I can see if they fit the missing link.
Devona had never thought about that before, and found herself doing so now, and quickly found the same curiosity as her husband did all those years ago. She had been to the Maguuma Jungle, and seen the apes Coran wrote of, and certainly didn't think they looked anything like humankind. It was true that the Norn did, but even then, Devona never thought of them as being like humans... something about them seemed far too different. The closest she could think of was the more humanoid demons in Cantha, and they spawned from the Mists.
Her interest piqued, she started skimming through the journal to see if he made any further discoveries on that score. She fought herself away from reading too deeply into his thoughts on his and Devona's first kiss (she vividly blushed as she hastily turned the page), and finally, far near the end of the journal, found what she was looking for.
This entry had been made well into his learning at Atal Ra, obvious in the shift in complexity of the language, using words that she only had the basest understanding of.
Genetic data sampling has confirmed a hypothesis of mine from before I ever took formal learning with the scholars of the academy. The feral cats of Tyria, like the Melandru's Stalker, possess a startling number of similar gene pairs to the Charr. In fact, roughly 99.6% of the protein chains between the Stalker and the Charr are identical. That such small differences in genetic material could produce such drastic results had initially made me think perhaps my theory indeed had merit.
Further tests with other species confirmed this hypothesis. The Asura carry a 99.6% genetic similarity to the Dredge. Surprisingly to me, the Dwarves are 99.3% identical to the Norn, and 99.7% identical to the preserved remains of the Giganticus Lupicus. The Tengu are 99.8% identical to the Long Armed Bird of Prey of Cantha. Even among obviously different racial families, the similarities are quite high. A Charr is 87.3% identical to a Norn. A Dwarf is 89.6% identical to an Asura. My theory is that all life on Tyria shares a common ancestral bond, perhaps millions upon millions of years ago, contrary to the assertions of the priests of the gods of my kind.
Which is actually where things become much more curious, for when I say “all life on Tyria”, there is actually one very notable exception. Humans.
Humans have virtually nothing in common with the great apes of the Maguuma Jungle, matching only 17.8% of the genetic pairs, and none in any consistent sequence from sample to sample. The closest match among any life form on Tyria is actually a plant, of all things... the Isis Flower, in which 43.1% of the protein chains are similar in composition and arrangement. Of interest, the Isis Flower and its colored variants are as drastically different from most other plants of Tyria as humans are from the animals.
From this, I have come to a conclusion that doesn't even make much sense to me, but the evidence does not lie. Wherever the human species originated, I do not believe it originated anywhere on this world.
Devona blinked. Surely she misunderstood something, her knowledge of what Coran was writing about clearly was not up to snuff. How could humans have not originated from Tyria? Did he mean they came from the Mists? She supposed it would explain why the demons felt familiar... but that couldn't be... could it? Perhaps a later entry could offer more insight.
It wasn't until near the current end of the journal that she found something that might have something to do with it. This was very recent, written shortly after one of his visits to the Eye of the North.
It's interesting to me that the Ebon Vanguard aren't interested about their home, because if it is truly as old as is claimed, it could offer many answers to questions most of us don't even realize need to be asked.
The Eye of the North has stood for as long as any race can remember. The Norn who lived all around it saw nothing of note, and why should they? It was just a ruin.
But, in the presence of humans, this supposedly lifeless ruin behaved far differently. Firstly, the dimensions of the Eye of the North suit humans far better than any other sentient race of Tyria. Where Norn or Charr have to turn slightly to fit through the halls, humans move through comfortably, and the natural ledges and shelves along the walls, while far too high-setting for an Asura, are by and large of a comfortable waist height for humans. It is my belief that the Eye of North was either built by, or built for, my kind.
That couldn't be, Devona thought. The Eye is far older than humans. How could it have been built either by or for beings that didn't exist yet?
But most telling to my theory is that the scrying pool within the Hall of Monuments reacts to human contact, and only human contact. The blood of Doric seems to be the trigger; for when I meditate before the pool, I have access that no one else has ever had to the extent I have them. For example, I can see the present comings and goings of people thousands upon thousands of miles away, and do so consciously with little effort, unlike the heroes who had managed to activate the pool in the past.
I even see replays of past events, although there is a point where the images become garbled and hazy, like the scrying pool is somehow damaged. I interpret that point to be roughly two thousand years in the past, a point that from what I can discern coincides almost perfectly with the arrival of Bhu'kahuh.
Devona shuddered at the invocation of that name, then gathered herself and read on.
I can't help but think I see those events of the past because they hold omens for our future. I see a great conflict between the Great Old One and equally great beasts... much like the murals within the Old One's chamber reflected. And like those murals, the beasts, great dragons unlike anything ever seen beyond the old tomes of the Dwarves, aren't dead. Not even Bhu'kahuh could kill them, he could only put them into a deep torpor.
In these visions, the beasts have names, some of which coincide with the names within the old dwarf tomes; like Zhaitan, and Jormag... names which never appear in the tomes, like Primordius and Kralkatorrik. There is a fifth... but the vision is too garbled for me to clearly understand its name.
These dragons are not dead, and I dread that perhaps the ill feelings and deep sense of growing evil are the passive influence of these ancient dragons once more stirring to consciousness. The Great Destroyer waking, what I now know to be a general of Primordius, suggests to me this is indeed the case.
I don't know how long we have before these nightmare creatures fully awaken, but I am certain they will. Due to this development... I have once again invoked the knowledge deep within my mind, and have stored it within the scrying pool of the Eye of the North, despite all my promises that the pieces of the Eternal Alchemy I uncovered would never be constructed by the hands of mortals again. I offer my prayers to Kormir that if humans, or anyone, can extract that information from the Eye, that they understand the frightening, god-like power they will unleash.
There was a cough over Devona's left shoulder, and she startled to the point where she dropped Coran's journal. Her husband was leaning over her with a thin-lipped smile, and he said, “By the time I realized it wasn't in my pack, I was already at the Eye, and it seemed rather silly at that point to go back and get it. I'm glad I merely left it here rather than lost it somewhere in the Shiverpeaks.”
Coran didn't seem upset that Devona had been reading it, he merely picked it up and put it on his desk. “Fortunately for me, what I found this time I wouldn't need to write down.”
Devona then became aware that was holding something under his arm, an object that made a loud metallic thunk when he dropped it on the desk. “What is that?” She asked.
“The object bearing the name of my ancestor. Captain Langmar figured I might as well keep it, as it obviously belonged to my family, and was useless to her and the rest of the Vanguard.”
Devona stood, and walked over to her husband's desk. From above, it looked almost exactly like the scrying pool of the Eye of the North, only in miniature. However, the liquid within the pool was frozen in place, its surface cracked in many places.
“The way I see it, if I could ever figure out how to repair this thing, it might work in much the same way as the larger scrying pool in the Eye, although likely to a much lesser degree.” Coran said, “It'll be something I toy with, but even with my knowledge, I hold little hope of ever actually accomplishing the task.”
But Devona was fixated on the golden plate somehow affixed to its side, it indeed legibly bore the name of the ancient human king despite its tarnished surface, but also further words, some that were familiar, but many that were completely alien.
The first part was quite clear, if the usage a bit unusual, “Jamison Doric, Admiral.”
The second part held no meaning to her whatsoever, “Terran Federation Colony Ship; Designation: TF-1103; Redemption.”
Last edited by chemiclord; 22-10-2010 at 02:53.
I am SO LOVING this!Terran Federation Colony Ship; Designation: TF-1103; Redemption.”
Aidan...bad bad boy.
Keep going Chemiclord..there is so much more to know!!!!
(P.S.- Did the Gods keep their promise to Vekk?...:(
I'm afraid, as the actual story timeline goes, this is the end.
There are several chapters I cut out for brevity (yes, I was trying to keep the story short, believe it or not), and if the interest is there, I can get to work on them. However, I can't promise they'd be terribly interesting, as they don't say anything that hasn't already been said in more succinct manner already.
well, i guessed that, but what i want to know is did the humans build spaceships or whatever all by them selves, or did the gods help them?