Time was when all the orchard beneath him would be filled with promise. When trees formed up long green rows, drooping heavily with golden fruit. When his father would take him on to this low hill, and promise of the day when it would all be his, and then the days forward when it would be his son's, and his grandson's after that, and all from then into the infinite future.
The trees are still here, at least. But not in a state his father would have liked. The final harvest was rushed, since manpower and time was in short supply. The apples, still green and small, were torn from branches, scattering ripped leaves across the dry earth. Then they were packed up on the backs of carts, to join the snaking convoy of refugees. All the livestock, even the pets, were taken, or bartered. All the workers and their families are gone. So now he stands, alone, the last to leave, ready for his final task.
He stands, and curses. A curse for the greedy, mad sorcerers that brought on this ruin. A curse for the Church of the gods that are dead. A curse for the City, those that ignore the cries of those in need. A curse for the Watchers, the scourging locusts, that precede the doom's arrival.
He looks up, into that very doom. Into the immense, inexorably advancing rift, the great limitless oblivion, the Disjunction of the world. He shivers and is afraid. He rages. He weeps.
It is quickly done. The smoke would attract the usual defilers, but they will find little that remains. And there would be only ashes for the Disjunction to take from him.
It's a small victory, isn't it?
Disjunction is the Oxford University RPG society game for Trinity 2010.
The game is "dystopian" high fantasy and is set in a world that is slowly disintegrating. Players will live out the last years of their lives and decide how they want to face the end of the world.
If you have any questions feel free to contact the GM team at: firstname.lastname@example.org