The desert sand.
An explosion--a crash.
A crater. Smoke.
Moderators: Mendi-chan, Kether
Figure wrote:And what exotic land do I find myself in?
These are no shining plains, and you are not the patron we were promised.
Figure wrote:A hand? I think you misjudge me.
Figure wrote:But the offer is genteel of you. I am Parson Tiles. Your sobriquet?
Parson Tiles wrote:Correct! Well-met then, Felix. And where is this place that we have landed...?
I do not recognize it from the holy charts."
Parson Tiles wrote:It is...
Parson Tiles wrote:...An honorary position, as I said. We travel under the sign of Sacred Chance. I do not worship, as our deacon, Century, would have it, but respect the Chance in my own manner.
Parson Tiles wrote:This is new to you, young Felix?
Parson Tiles wrote:Understand, I do not.
Parson Tiles wrote:But everything in its time and place. It is Chance that we crashed here, and I expect that this means we will be staying for some time.
I know the Deacon will want this, at least.
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