To hear the people of this world tell it, there's a wasteland there since the war. But if the rest of the world has overgrown in our absence, revived with wildlife, then certainly it has been as well.
Do we know if anyone has seen it, or if it’s only what they’ve been told? There may be more than a little truth to it, but it may not be the whole truth.
I'm quite adept at crossing monsters, though I avoid it if I can.
And I'd rather have a comfortable tent and encampment than depend on the wilderness, if it's all the same. But it will not be unfamiliar to me.
I lived eighty years in a scrabbling continent on the verge of civil war with nary a pipe indoors before settling here, then centuries in the Aerie. There is very little I have not seen or learned, Jon.
I would have thought that we were of an age, away from the Aerie.
We take what we can, and what we can get, but it’s better to travel light than not. Do you ride horses where you come from? We won’t have those. Might be that we could have a few of what they ride here instead.
perhaps it is the elven blood in her veins that gives her the canny youth, on top of the chaos, that blood which almost ruined everything for her. thinking on this helps put to bed some of her lingering wistful nostalgia for istredd. ]
We ride horses. Carriages. But here they use cars, and there will be no power for them if there is no civilization waiting for us.
I’ve crossed the sea here. It wasn’t very pleasant — rough waters. But the boat was given to us. I haven’t a Lord Manderly to ask for the loan of a ship, or the standing here to do it. Don’t know if anyone else does, or if we would want to, if there would be a chance of them carrying the tale to the UN.
[The rest, he sets aside for a moment. If magic has kept her young, even prolonged her life... it’s strange to him now, even it would not have been strange in the Aerie. But he is not sure that it should be. While it may not give him eighty years of life, it’s only through magic that he lives at all.
A discomfiting thought. It’s better when he isn’t reminded that he should be ashes on the wind.]
So we need allies who seek to overthrow the UN, and we need to hope that they don’t wish to do something worse once it’s done, if it’s ever done. The enemy of an enemy can’t always be counted as a friend, though they might become one.
I don’t know if Morningstar is the way. I don’t know if they can help with this. Someone among us may have other allies.
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New Amsterdam is harboring us for now, but the UN government wants blood, and sooner or later, they will get it.
We need a place the Displaced can go that will be safe —secluded from their reach.
I understand a continent was destroyed in one of their wars. North America. I'd like to see if it has a gate.
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We also know that things came through the gates. We don’t know what’s in North America.
Where I come from, we built a wall to keep monsters out. It works, to a point. The cities have those now, but I don’t see how much good they do.
A lot depends on what we might find there.
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It will be a haven.
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Might be that there’s a reason they can’t touch it. Elsewise, why wouldn’t they?
Either they don’t know what’s there, if there’s anything at all other than some trees and rocks, or they do, and they don’t want anyone else knowing.
[Trees and rocks and water, he thinks. Are my father’s gods to be found here in this world?]
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Wilderness, I can handle. Ranging, I can handle.
What can you handle?
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I’m not going to leave you to it on your own.
[But if she is the same woman she was, then he isn’t completely sure that she wouldn’t leave him on his own.
He has to be prepared for that.]
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And I'd rather have a comfortable tent and encampment than depend on the wilderness, if it's all the same. But it will not be unfamiliar to me.
I lived eighty years in a scrabbling continent on the verge of civil war with nary a pipe indoors before settling here, then centuries in the Aerie. There is very little I have not seen or learned, Jon.
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We take what we can, and what we can get, but it’s better to travel light than not. Do you ride horses where you come from? We won’t have those. Might be that we could have a few of what they ride here instead.
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[ or perhaps not.
perhaps it is the elven blood in her veins that gives her the canny youth, on top of the chaos, that blood which almost ruined everything for her. thinking on this helps put to bed some of her lingering wistful nostalgia for istredd. ]
We ride horses. Carriages. But here they use cars, and there will be no power for them if there is no civilization waiting for us.
There is, of course, also the sea to consider.
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[The rest, he sets aside for a moment. If magic has kept her young, even prolonged her life... it’s strange to him now, even it would not have been strange in the Aerie. But he is not sure that it should be. While it may not give him eighty years of life, it’s only through magic that he lives at all.
A discomfiting thought. It’s better when he isn’t reminded that he should be ashes on the wind.]
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just some light treason in here, it’s ok, they never swore fealty to the UN
I don’t know if Morningstar is the way. I don’t know if they can help with this. Someone among us may have other allies.
LMFAO
[ though gray has been in bed with the corporations that run the UN, by the look of it, and that's a different kind of overthrow. ]
Our options are trustworthy or well-funded, but not both.
I have Lynch, but for all he may be protecting us now, it won't last. He lies down with dogs like the rest of them.
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What do you make of Gray?
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Back where I come from, there are two enemies. One wants power, near as I can tell. The other wants to kill every living thing.
If someone wants power, it’s hard to tell sometimes if they want it for its own sake.
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From that vantage point, we're the competition.
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What he plans to do with all his power, what he has done and what his ends are, that troubles me.
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