At first glance, \gls{fenestra} might seem like a paradise.
A world without disease, hunger or war; all of its land lush with forests of every kind, each teeming with animals to hunt and fruit to pick.
Yet, families still swell and shrink same as European peasants of the old.
Yet, families still swell and shrink, like European peasants of old.
With the abundance of food, many beasts of the forest grew to enormous sizes and appetites.
Instead of plagues and famines, the population of \gls{fenestra} is ravaged by monsters.
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@@ -20,7 +20,7 @@ On \gls{fenestra}, aurochs still roam.
Humans survive by carving out \glspl{village}, burning and slashing away the woods into a large clearing, with a walled settlement placed in the middle like a nipple.
With the wilderness continually trying to heal the festering wound that is civilisation, the \gls{village} must always hold the line.
Archers defend from inside the \gls{village} walls, while the \gls{guard}is stuck outside.
Archers defend from inside the \gls{village} walls, while the \gls{guard}must remain outside.
As the most downtrodden, poor, criminal, stupid, the \gls{guard} act as a first line of defense, a human shield.
They are tasked with maintaining the forest perimeter with fire, and slaying any beast that crosses the treeline.
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@@ -28,27 +28,29 @@ But most importantly, the \gls{guard} must venture into wild, and mine it for es
\begin{exampletext}
A poor boy, taking odd jobs to get by, is scrubbing chamber pots.
He is interrupted by a sharp-dressed man forcing a shovel in his hands.
Time to dig a grave, errand boy!
He is interrupted by a sharply-dressed man forcing a shovel in his hands.
``Time to dig a grave, errand boy!''
The town has no dedicated grave-digger.
Most people don't leave a corpse.
\end{exampletext}
\begin{exampletext}
At small hours of the night, the local pub is still packed and very loud.
At small hours of the night, the local pub is still packed and loud.
Over the crowd, an important debate led by two inebriated gentlemen is heard:
``\ldots can't
see shit with a helmet on!
By the time you see its tentacle, it's scooping out your face like a cantaloupe!''
``Aaaaand that's how you get an arrow to the face, bonehead!
Don't come crying to \emph{me} when those bandits take your eye \emph{and} your horse!''
``Fuck the horse, fuck the money, fuck everything!
You can't bribe a beast!''
``What money??
``What money you going to bribe with?!
You don't have a bucket to piss in.
No wonder you have no helmet!
Who would ambush a bum?''
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@@ -60,13 +62,14 @@ But most importantly, the \gls{guard} must venture into wild, and mine it for es
\end{exampletext}
\begin{exampletext}
A very pregnant and very new recruit arrives to the \gls{templeOfBeasts}.
A new recruit arrives to the \gls{templeOfBeasts}, heavily pregnant.
After enrollment, uniform, tour, and far too much paperwork, it's finally her turn to recieve a weapon from the \gls{guard}\gls{jotter}.
The \gls{jotter} sigh, thinking `We try to be gentlemen, really, despite our rotten reputation.
As much as our ladies are just as nasty as the men, it just seems wrong to send an expecting mother outside the walls.'
`But we did give them plenty of rest and comfy indoor busywork, and what did that get us?
All boys on the field, and all the goddamn good-for-nothing lazy harlots all laughing and doing fuck-all, carrying little hellions in their bellies.'
The \gls{jotter} sighs, thinking ``we try to be gentlemen, really, despite our rotten reputation.
As much as our ladies are just as nasty as the men, it just seems wrong to send an expecting mother outside the walls''.
``But then we gave them plenty of rest and comfy indoor busywork, and what did that get us?
All boys on the field, and all the god-damn good-for-nothing lazy harlots all laughing and doing fuck-all, carrying little hellions in their bellies.''
The \gls{jotter} feels his fury bubbling to the surface all over again.
The little shits, who grew up to be the hardiest bastards in \gls{fenestra}, remain a thorn in his side to this day.
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@@ -77,7 +80,7 @@ But most importantly, the \gls{guard} must venture into wild, and mine it for es
Here's a spear, you could use something to lean on while keeping guard.''
Relief washes over her face, and the \gls{jotter}'s fury dissipates.
Maybe he can be bit of a gentleman after all.
Maybe he can afford gentlemanly behaviour after all.
\end{exampletext}
\begin{exampletext}
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@@ -86,18 +89,18 @@ But most importantly, the \gls{guard} must venture into wild, and mine it for es
Sheep are oh-so-soft and oh-so-dumb, following your every step, peering up at you with uthmost devotion.
Perhaps it doesn't seem so from the outside, when you have to pick out a sheep to make lame.
Most shepherds take no pleasure in maiming, but even if they did, nothing can break a flock's singleminded adoration.
Most shepherds take no pleasure in the crippling, but even if they did, nothing can break a flock's single-minded adoration.
In a sheep's eyes, you're their whole world, even as you break their limbs.
After all, sheep spend hours, every day, grazing outside \pgls{village}'s walls.
And sooner or later, something is bound to go wrong.
Perhaps an archer's aim is off that day, or the shepherd was busy thinking of dinner, or the guard was dozing off.
Perhaps an archer's aim is off that day, or the shepherd was busy thinking of dinner, or the guard-child was dozing off.
Before you know it, some hungry forest creature is careening towards the herd.
The lame sheep is a sacrifice, an offering to the forest so others are left unharmed.
It's for the good of the flock.
A good shepherd takes care of their flock.
It is also what you whisper to yourself as you break another leg.
Shepherds whisper these thoughts to themselves as they break a sheep's leg, to make a replacement cripple.
