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Public News Post #1986

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Written by: Llahnwyhn
Date: Monday, April 22nd, 2024
Addressed to: Everyone


"Our".

It is a very strange word, in that is possesses as much as it is a possessor.

We are not like the other cities in the Basin. From those founders who abandoned the dead world to pursue their ideas, we have ever been a people who look inside to find the common themes that attract us.

We are the one true independent city of the Basin. We are the deluded slaves of Demon Lords, hollowing out their subjects as they "progress". There is nowhere else like us.


While they settle for their "inner sea", we face the true ocean.


We could leave the Basin and lose nothing of ourselves. Of course, our truth has little to do with location.


Our truth, collectively lived through Gaudiguch and present in its citizens, is not compatible with soulless chattel.


Alliances come, and alliances end. We who live in the desert know better than any that the most permanent of structures will give way to erosion if not tragedy.


I am your Minister of Culture. And I am here for you. And we have stayed true to ourselves.


Our power is not the borrowed time of demon slaves, or that of power on loan.


There will be changes in the months to come, but they will not affect us as they do others. It is difficult in the extreme to threaten people who live in a subtropical, volcanic rainshadow with desert creatures that see the undead as carrion do any other corpse.

I wanted to say that my office concluded to officially declare de mode the "fashion" of Magnagora, but as it turns out, no one wants to look like a corpse.


I wanted to determine their fashion, but... Magnagorans, after much market research, do not contribute in any way to our culture.


Instead, they are persona non grata.


There are others, but again. We are Gaudiguch. Our culture and society is the future, free of the hopelessly dated and irrelevant wars that have plagued the Basin for so long.

I would like to take this opportunity to remind everyone of what happens when a Magnagoran meets the heat of Gaudiguch. The swarms of flies, and the smell, ruin our dinner parties.

Pending further discussion and approval of our Council, In the city of Gaudiguch, Magnagorans will no longer be able to write, verbally or physically expression themselves, perform in Gaudiguch, express opinions, or enjoy the free speech of truth we fight so hard for.


They will now be relegated to the silence of death. Also, their tortured prose and hackneyed attempts at playwrighting need no longer be suffered, an entirely coincidental benefit for those of us not wanting to see the same exact play again and again.




Penned by my hand on the 11th of Vestian, in the year 676 CE.


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