3535 Prologue
From GURPSworld Wiki
Since I was last in a position to record my days, much has happened. We left the barren post-apocalyptic wastes in New Mexico through a gate located in a mesa and arrived in another world, a place known by many names, one of them being Diskordia. I question everything I witnessed there. I question its history and its very existence. We were caught in a morass of magical politics right from the moment we set foot in this place, when we encountered the Necromancer from the tales of the villagers in New Mexico, whom we later came to know as The Gambler.
The Gambler was one of several forces that had collided in this vast, broken, inexplicable land. We learned of hidden witches in pocket dimensions, an ancient history of necromantic conquest via a vast array of gates, quarreling barons, a great Wildwood whose origin and history were as impenetrable as its borders and, of course, The Cabal. In this world we found ourselves pawns of various powers with various goals, but we never found the truth. We witnessed intrusions of godlike beings, the manipulation of history through potent gate magic, and ultimately we were led from one trap to the next, hunted by nearly everyone we met, until we found ourselves in The Hole, an apparent prison world where The Cabal housed mages they could not control, among other dissidents and native residents.
The Hole, ironically, was less dangerous and somewhat more comfortable than Diskordia. In Diskordia, we were under scrutiny, being pushed and pulled by forces we could not understand, none of whom wished us well, while in The Hole, we had at least found a way to sustain ourselves safely. This, of course, was by design. The Cabal wanted The Hole to be just unpleasant enough that they felt like they had won, but pleasant enough that they wouldn't have to see us again, because, if we were resourceful, we would end up living out our years in relative comfort. That was not in the cards for us, and we bargained with some of the inhabitants that seemed to be in league with each other against The Cabal (or perhaps it was just that their self-interest trumped the preferences of The Cabal for them). We were placed into a deep slumber and, when we awoke, it was as though we had been thrust into a science-fiction tale.
I was the first to awaken. We were in a medical bay being attended by someone with a vaguely familiar face (I would soon learn he was a clonal iteration of one whom I had known from my days as a Promethean on Earth, Magdalena Carter). Ambrose and Doolish Lóegaire were there as well. We learned we were aboard a spaceship, something I had, of course, read about in science-fiction, but Ambrose and Doolish were a little more bewildered to be floating among the stars. I suspect they thought we had reached the afterlife. In a way, they are right. We had transitioned between worlds, which is one aspect of reaching an afterlife. After I was able to recuperate from the stasis, I felt better than I had in a long time, perhaps since the day I first went to the Alden House and was exposed to this life of weirdness. My mind was sharp, and my body felt totally rejuvenated. If this is what life is going to be like in 3535, I can get used to it.
We learned that The Cabal still plagues the galaxy, at least in the version we had arrived in. I learned that some of my ideas about the past, the cataclysm that first shunted me off to the desert where I met Ambrose, the nature of Diskordia, and The Cabal were true. In fact, whatever it was Marjorie Cameron and her dubious retinue of mages were up to resulted in some catastrophic tear in reality itself, sending a ripple of disruption through the many parallel worlds of the multiverse. Or maybe it was Hellestromme... or both. Whatever the case, I think my home was irrevocably destroyed, the Earth I was born and grew up in. There are still many unanswered questions about Diskordia, but The Hole itself was an artificial environment created within a much, much larger artificial environment that housed an entire star system, something that was explained to me as a Dyson sphere. It is apparently a giant structure that totally envelops a host star, with a surface area the size of hundreds of millions of earths, and this particular Dyson sphere is Cabal Central.
It is from this place, known as The Darkstar, that they strive to eliminate all other magic in the galaxy so that they ultimately end up with a monopoly on magic. I don't fully understand their motivations but, in light of what Marjorie Cameron and all the others managed to do to Earth, perhaps they are so scared of a rogue magician doing that again that they want to prevent possibility that happens again. I don't think so, though. I think they are up to something more nefarious, and stopping rogue mages is just a byproduct of their real agenda. Whatever the case, we have learned that we're in no position to directly oppose them. It was only through luck and sacrifice that we were able to be freed from The Hole, and it could have been much more disastrous. Their command of both magic and technology far outstrips that of any other (known) entity in the galaxy, so for the time being, we have been advised to keep our heads down and attempt an indirect method of opposing them. Fortunately, as Sun-Tzu has pointed out, Indirect tactics, efficiently applied, are inexhaustible as Heaven and Earth, unending as the flow of rivers and streams; like the sun and moon, they end but to begin anew; like the four seasons, they pass away to return once more.
We were rescued for a reason, because not everyone in the galaxy agrees with The Cabal and their destructive tactics. They have not merely been taking control of worlds, but have been wiping them out entirely if they are shown to be mana worlds. Apparently, few are, but this will inevitably lead to a large scale loss of life when populated worlds are found to have mana. In some cases, it already has. I don't know how we're going to go about finding mana worlds before The Cabal does, but I feel we owe it to galaxy and the people who died to save us to at least try. We have a space ship waiting for us somewhere, so my first task will be to get Ambrose to not try to cover the entire thing with leather. If that goes well, we may have a chance at the rest.
For now, we're aboard Prosperity a freighter owned by people friendly to our mission. I've learned about airlocks and that we're not supposed to go flying out of them. I've also come to absolutely love the clothes they gave us. I've never worn something better-fitting or more comfortable. As though that weren't good enough, it's armor as well! And very light. I have managed to find some unused cargo space to take some time to breathe and practice the forms of the Five Ancestors Fist. Not only did the time in stasis not rob me of the movements I've learned over the decades, but I feel more capable than ever. Being able to always fall back on that has kept me confident even in the worst of times, so no matter the stresses this galaxy and its vast empty spaces fill me with, I feel that I can always clear them away by turning to the movements that have become second nature to my body.