Chapitre Un

Over the dark skys of Illarnia, three species battled: the emps, short sleeves and wide eyes.

The emps were infamous for their cunning laziness. Among them, there were glimmers of brilliance, but for many, they simply tickled the public teat with their greedy tongues. Over the last era, the emps had procreated and swelled in ranks; more and more were required to do less. Each cycle, the emps snickered and chattered in the silent dance of smears to advance their Lord’s future.

The short sleeves wore the button down variety—mostly bearded with large heads to hold their swelled brains. More skull than matter, they carried their battle pens to record each action of the emps. As their Lords grew fat upon the honey of media mergers, they suffered from salahubris: big brain--low pay. They battled on, but since they needed stories to scribe, they formed alliances with the emps. The emps provided the sleeves with consistency, simplicity, and the occasional beverage.

The one species the emps and the short sleeves loathed were the wide eyes.

The wide eyes believed in a different version of tomorrow—often naive, shrill and a bit nutty. They spoke large of small substance solutions—taxes are too high, guns kill, we must end corruption. They ran and ran—and if they lost too many times, the emps and short sleeves conspired and tarred them Gadflies.

But among the emp Lords was a faun named Tumistinka...