So, if you’re reading this, welcome to Outworld. My apologies in advance. You probably won’t like it here.
Assuming you aren’t having your face gnawed off by some monstrosity with more tentacles and eyes than a giant squid convention, you’re probably wondering what sort of place this is. By the way, if you are fighting a monstrosity out of nightmare, by the gods, put down this journal and focus on staying alive!
The best description I’ve ever heard of Outworld goes like this: “[Outworld is] a temporal garbage pit for a thousand other, failed Earths – a place where all the wreckage eventually washes up.” This description was uttered by a sentient robot, who was drunk off its ass at the time on electrified ether laced with jet fuel, but it’s still an apt way of summing up this whole, wretched place.
In the next few chapters, I’ll do my best to cover the population, landscape and geography, history, religion, and the economy of Outworld. As such. This place is incredibly fragmented, and it’s tough to really put together facts about history when, outside the tavern, a guy with stone-tipped spears is dueling a cyborg with laser pistols. And, if previous fights are any indication, Johnny Caveman is going to be the one who comes back in for another drink in a few minutes.
I know you’re going to ask. No, Johnny Caveman isn’t his name. We all call him Ugg, since that’s about all he says. Yet despite his limited vocabulary, he can be quite expressive with his hand gestures. Which is how he got himself into this duel, by the way. Implied that the cyborg’s father was running Linux, I think.
Now that you’re in Outworld, please take your time to enjoy the sights. Meet the people, although you’ll probably want to keep a healthy distance from most of them. Healthy, in some cases, is measured in miles. Admire the views, solitary and undisturbed by tourists. Although keep in mind that the reason these views are so undisturbed is because the tourists are usually torn apart, devoured, and digested before they can make too much of a mess.
After reading this primer, you may be thinking to yourself, “Outworld doesn’t quite sound like my cup of tea. (Or motor oil, or plasma, or whatever you prefer to drink.) How do I get out of here?”
If you have just asked this, let me congratulate you. You have asked the most common question in Outworld. More common than “What is that thing!?”, more widespread than “What’s this place gonna throw at me next?”, heard more often than “Help!”, “I’m dying!”, and “I hate this place!”. Although, to be fair, those last three are statements, not questions.
Unfortunately, that’s one question that I can’t answer. You see, I’m still stuck here too. Everybody’s searching for a way out. As far as we know, nobody’s found one yet.
Well, maybe one person knows. But he carved out the largest empire Outworld has ever seen and ascended to become a god, so it’s not exactly an easy solution. But I’ll get to that soon.
On that note, settle in for an informative read, stranger. You’ve got the time.
Continued in Chapter 2.