“Hello there, men, women, creatures, rats, you name it, you came to me for a story, didn’t you? A story about the rise of New Albion, but who am I? I am just, the humble narrator called Kate. You wonder, what is so special about New Albion? Is it the dolls that contain the souls of the dead? Is it the strange people? Or perhaps it is the intense emotions that course through the cities veins.”
“I digress, it does not matter what I look like, you can always recognize me by the top hat I wear, or perhaps the colorful dress with eccentric hues. I noticed you were wondering about my clothes, what I am about to tell you, is a tragic story that spans many years, but where do we begin?”
“You may have noticed that I am currently walking over a sand road with a forest around me. Let us begin with the rise of New Albion, ah, there we have our first participant for this narrative I will be weaving for you. There we have an old gambler, he is fated to meet a monk, who will be joining us soon. Now, what does this gambler look like in your mind? No worries, let me take a closer look at him for you.”
“Look at that, he is just a disheveled grumpy old man, his garments are all mismatched and ugly, it looks like he gambled away his clothes. Why do you ask why I call him old? He has gray hair, if you can call those few sprouts, hair.”
“Oh looky there, on the other side of the road, we have a monk, and she is heading straight for the gambler. Let me check her out for you, she is bald and wearing a brown robe, she even carries a satchel. Let’see what happens when they meet on the road.”
The Monk slowly came closer to the Gambler, “What are you doing here?”
The gambler smirked, “I am making the trek to the Great North, what are you doing here, Monk?”
“I was picking up supplies to head to the Great North, I think it is fate we met.”
“Fate? There is no such thing as fate, there is only chance and loss.”
The Monk shook her head, “No, all is ordained, there is no chance, but there can be loss.”
The Gambler crossed his arms, “And how are we going to resolve our debate?”
The Monk sat down on the ground and pulled out a pack of cards out of her satchel, “I say, we do something you are good at, we play cards.”
The Gambler smirked and sat down across the Monk, “A card game you say? I bet there is no way you can win.”
“Well, this card game can take a while, who is right? The Monk? The Gambler? Is everything ordained and up to fate? Or is life a game of chance? We will see who will win this game.”
“The game of cards they played went on and on, through the day, and the next, and even the day after that. People started coming across, and they could not help but look at them playing cards, as if they were entranced by a magical spell that would have them finish the game before they would stand up.”
“As it started to rain, and more people flocked their way to see the Gambler and the Monk play their game, the onlookers built a small shelter. The Monk and the Gambler never stopped playing their card game as a street started being built from the sand road. This was the start of New Albion.”
I swayed aside from people building things at top speed as the time sped on, “First a church was built in the middle, then a couple of houses, even a bar. And that, my friends, my lovely readers that I weave into this narrative as onlookers of a tragic tale, is how New Albion was born. But this is only the beginning, as you can see, the people are still busy with building more.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Hundreds of years passed, now there are bustling streets, big machines that have been created by the town’s inventors. Here we have the nice people, but they are not the only ones, we also have the wise, who try to make sure New Albion does not fall into disarray or war.”
“We even have eccentric people who do the most strange things, among one of these people is the red haired dwarf who runs the Mafia. But he only has one eye, any affairs you have standing with him will be decided by his pair of silver dice. And if you will look up for me, you see a zeppelin flying over the towers of New Albion.”
“A castrato resided in the zeppelin, and each afternoon as the zeppelin passes by, we hear him sing. He has the most astonishing voice, don’t you agree with me? But New Albion also has a darker side, there are prisons of lead, this is where we keep the evil people. Or, crazy, but we are all crazy, aren’t we?”
“On top of the buildings we see gargoyles on the corners, am I glad they are not alive. They are made from iron shreds instead of stone. But if you are looking for a really crazy person, or rather magnificent, clever insane one. Then we have to look at Annabel McAlistair. She is going to raise the dead, how do you ask? Well, we will get to that, you don’t have to wonder for much longer.”
“There are some other corners I need to show you in New Albion, here on Ashland Street, we have the Alchemist Guild, but to join, you need to craft a glass pearl from a young girl’s dream. How? Who knows my fellow readers and listeners, who knows. And there, a group of thieves, let’s take a closer look. Oh, no they are stealing the pearls.”
“What are you looking at me for? I weave the narrative, I don’t interfere with the narrative. They succeeded, look at that they are running away with the pearls, let’s follow them, they are taking them to their hideout. Let’s see what they are planning the next morning. Oh no, what are they staring at, the ceiling? Ah, I see, they have been enchanted by the pearls to forever sit, and doomed to stare at the ceiling, I wonder if the same will happen to the person who will find them.”
“Look, there is the twilight fog that occasionally passes through New Albion. Some say there is an aphrodisiac inside the twilight fog. I say it is nonsense, yet, look over there, there are people copulating in the doorways. Get a room, that is just, gross, let’s take a closer look at the upper class. That is where we can find the inventors.”
“You ask me what these inventors are creating? Well, my friends, they craft everything in New Albion, but do you see what the upper class lives in? Those marvelous architectural houses, they are crafted from the best bricks, stone and wood. They have the best cemetery in New Albion, and that is where our dear Jasper will be buried.”
“Do you know what happens after you die? Just in case you don’t I will tell you. Well, I do, I certainly do, after death, Elysium awaits you. How can I say for sure? We are not here for my backstory, for my journey, I am here to tell you about New Albion, look at the rich people wandering around in their luxurious clothes. Elysium will be playing an important role later, I promise you.”
“Wow, that was a loud crash, something horrible must have happened in the street behind me, I fear, dear old Jasper has just bitten the dust. I think, his daughter will have a hard time with his death. As for his wife, yeah, they did not have the best marriage, nor did he have a great mother. Do you see that dirty upper class house, as if a hermit lives there?”
“Yes, indeed, there goes Annabel with her supplies for more experiments, tonight, she will have nightmares because the man she loves, but does not love her back, has died. How did he exactly die? Well, that is an incident, we’d rather not talk about, I already mentioned it, that is enough to begin our story. While I will be around, I am always around in New Albion, your dear, Kate, to weave you into this tale. We are jumping into Annabel’s narrative, as that is, where the Voodoopunks they will come forth because of her invention. Intrigued? I say you are intrigued, there is but one thing to do, follow this narrative to the end!”
“What is that? You wonder why you have to know about Jasper’s death? How can he be important in this story after his untimely demise? Well, like I mentioned, Annabel is planning to raise the dead with her latest invention, why, how? Well, these are questions I would love to answer, but why tell you, if I can show you exactly what goes on in her clever little mind? What drives her to conduct such, crazy experiments? I think we have dabbled enough in how New Albion came to be, I have set the stage for you, and now we can enjoy the fruits of my labor.”