 | Name | Anecdota Septentrionalis (II) |
| Type (Ingame) | Quest Item | |
| Family | Book, Anecdota Septentrionalis | |
| Rarity |  | |
| Description | An ancient Remurian scroll you accidentally discovered in the ruins. There is no way to verify the truth of the words within. |
Item Story
| Hearing our words, he burst into laughter, and he laughed so hard that even the sailfin on his back shook. As he howled with laughter, he managed to say that there's no such place as "Remuria," merely a fake history invented by the southern barbarians who, not having their own civilization, created a fictional empire that simply didn't exist. We said that no, we were Remurians, and he guffawed even louder, and asked us to provide some kind of reliable historical data or archaeological evidence that could prove Remuria really exists. We simply could not produce the proofs, and he assured us that these sorts of strange fantasies were not illegal in their lands, and so long as we did not eat Sunsettias in public, we would still be honored guests in their Empire of Solaris. He went on, saying that based on our clothing, we probably weren't secret agents of the rebel army, but were likely traveling traders from Hyperborea. Their empire was currently in a state of civil war, and they hoped we could assist them in defeating said rebels. It turned out that the Solaris Empire has very advanced technology, and some decades ago, a philosopher named Lucilius invented a way for some people to obtain extraordinary abilities far exceeding those of ordinary mortals. But it came at a price. Their appearance would change to be unlike those of ordinary people. Some believed that this practice destroyed the purity of humanity, and those with special powers had but two options: to be slaves, or to be destroyed utterly. And so the two sides quickly came to blows, and it was a fight to the death, with oceans of blood being spilled. I comforted him on the spot, telling him that in my opinion, this type of thing has been happening since ancient times. I could think of at least twenty plays on the spot, each revolving around this exact theme — this too was a reflection of just how the arts in Remuria were flourishing. Pisculentum's Terentius at once praises humanity as being equal yet powerful creatures, while also describing how only a small number of people innately possess special powers, and has them go off and conquer and destroy all others, no? I recommended they just stop researching technology to alter humanity, and instead focus their efforts on technology to alter Blubberbeasts, as Blubberbeasts are far more likable than humans. He said he would consider my wise suggestion, but that the more pressing matter was exterminating the despicable traitors. So long as we were willing to lend a helping hand, he would give us the most powerful Imperial Blubberbeast mounts to ride, and we would lead thirteen of his legions, each with a million soldiers, for a total of 13 million soldiers, and outflank the enemy to their left. As he had saved us from a rebel attack, we assented to his request. Dear readers, everything I described above I saw with my own eyes! Not a word of it is false! As for the war that followed, it was even more unbelievable. I remember a blind slave who followed us singing thusly: "Sing, O musician, sing of the rage of the Blubberbeast which brought countless ills!" And just like that, the army of Blubberbeasts rolled forward, swallowing everything in its path like all-devouring flames, and the earth trembled and shook beneath their flippers. We arrayed our forces in formation upon the plains, and the leading officer prayed to their god before drawing taut a bowstring and loosing, sending a dog hurtling towards the rebel forces. The sound of the silver bow was unmanning to all who heard. But the rebels were not to be outdone, and they sent forth five million giants armed to the teeth. These giants were enormous, each dozens of times larger than the golems made by Sebastos's own hand, and they were said to be the reinforcements that the rebels had adjured forth from the seafloor. Though these giants each had but one eye — well, such things are quite normal, after all, the giants of which Pacuvius wrote are all like this — they had exceptional eyesight, and at the command of the rebel leader, they began to hurl Bulle Fruit at our troops with astonishing accuracy. These fruits would burst upon impact with the ground, spitting out masses of bubbles. Should you be touched by a bubble, you would float high up into the sky, until you flew straight into the sun. That is why the sun and Bulle Fruit have a similar color. As for the war's conclusion, respected playwrights throughout history virtually never write of such things — they wish to leave enough space for future stories. Out of respect for their traditions, therefore, I too shall go ahead and skip that part. |
Good sir are you okay.