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Prologue
The sun rose over Forumopolis, bathing the city in its golden rays. Users dragged themselves out of bed, went about their routines, their motions, their lives. Doing what they had always done, morning, after morning, after morning. Going places they had been a thousand times over, all out of habit. All for the sake of
Average.
It becomes hard to notice things, when all is the same. There may be new people, a new place every now and again, perhaps even a new feeling, if one gets lucky. But it is only a matter of time before it too gets pressed into
Average.
Did anyone notice the boat offshore? Doubtful, at best. It was only a boat. Just like the others, stationed at the docks. Why should it be any different? Yet, it was. Ironic, that the whole of what will be, may never have been, if someone could distinguish from
Average.
For the figure standing at the helm was anything but that. He, for it was indeed a man, stood at a similar height, similar features, and similar clothing. But one could not look at him, very closely, and think that he was not
Average.
The figure straightened, his dark, tattered cape billowing in the morning breeze. He silently walked to the rafts onboard. He spoke only a few words to the captain.
“Be ready. When I am in position, the stroke must fall.”
Minutes later, a small raft deposited its one-man crew at the docks. Minus his cape, he blended in well. No one looked at him very closely, for none wanted to take the effort to break from
Average.
Amazing. What was once a luxury will soon be forgotten. Amazing, what people will be willing to risk, betray, destroy, and sacrifice, just so things can be
Average.
Yet, this story is not about them, for they shall get nowhere. No, to save what is lost, to redeem what is gone, it will take those, who truly are
Above the Average.
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Chapter 1
The Plains
They say that there is no greater city than Forumopolis in all the lands of the internet. Coincidentally, over ninety percent of “they” tend to live in Forumopolis. But the other ten percent say it’s not bad. Situated on the inner part of the tip of a cape, it is an epicenter for, well, everything. The overland routes stretching through the northern grasslands all come through the city eventually. With the sea to the east and south, it is unrivaled in naval trade. Such a town would seem a prime target for pirates, bandits, or even other cities, but miraculously, the city has never seen war. With such a large income, Forumopolis has the finest defenses anywhere. Its security forces are limitless, its fleets vast, and its leadership, wise. From the Council Halls, the crown jewel in the center of the city, the Administrators and Moderators sit unparalleled in power and might. Yes, the city was indeed grand, but it is doubtful Douglas is noticing any of it, as his alarm has just gone off.
Loud, high-pitched blaring, the universal language of “wake up long before you want to”, filled Douglas’s apartment. Shuffling under the covers, he rummaged for the off button. Rising sleepily, he slowly donned his daily clothes, jeans and whatever shirt happened to be on top of the pile that morning. He was heading to the kitchen when he noticed something about his pockets. After a quick rummage, he groaned. Of all the things to feel in your pockets, one of the worst is an empty space where a wallet used to be. He grabbed his keys and rushed out the door, thinking to himself, Wait, why is my alarm on? It’s Saturday! Ugh, this is the last time I try to drink 15 root beers in one night…well, maybe the second to last time.
After thinking over where he could have left it, Gizmo’s Bar was suspect number one. As he walked, Douglas looked at the morning sky with dread. Another day, another frustration. Something had been bothering him for the past month or so. He was pretty well-off by any standard. He worked in the Council Hall, namely as a liaison. The pay was good, weekends off, and you were usually home by eight. Despite all this, he had been feeling a bit off. Something just wasn’t right. Life was good, but there was an indescribable something missing. Approaching the door, he thought, What is wrong with me? I thought this feeling would just pass, but that was a month ago…Thoroughly discouraged, he stepped into Gizmo’s.
Gizmo’s bar was famous for one thing: the odd ability to serve a customer anything he asked for, provided it was food. The saying went, “If you order it, and we don’t have it, it’s free!” To this day, no one has scored a free nothing. Douglas walked in. There were still a few early birds about, but the bar was mostly empty. After a quick, unsuccessful search of the place, he sat down in his usual spot, wondering if it was possible he world was conspiring to make his life miserable. Gizmo (the owner since the dawn of time) walked over, sensing his distress.
“So, you forgot something last night?” A nod.
“Hmm, wouldn’t happen to be this?” the bartender said, plucking a wallet from his pocket. “I noticed you left it here, so I made sure nobody stole it.”
“Oh, um, thanks.” He quickly took his wallet back and resumed studying the counter.
“You know, you look a bit more troubled than usual. Indigestion from those thirteen root beers you had last night? Good try by the way. Thought you were really going to do it this time.”
“No. My stomach’s fine.”
“Worried about the riots? They’ve been getting out of hand as of late. Council’s been talking about sending some of our own troops to help.”
Douglas thought over this one for a while. Sure he was worried, who wasn’t? The administration in the town next over, Bonus Stage, seemed to have gone insane as of late. Higher taxes, absurd restricted access for most of the city, no wonder the people were running wild.
“I don’t think so. I mean, I am concerned that they might come here, but I don’t think that’s it.” He sighed. “Gizmo, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve got a good job, nice apartment, anything anyone could wish for. But I just feel…out of it. I feel like I’m missing something, I don’t enjoy things as much anymore. I live like I always have, hoping that I’ll wake up one day and magically be better.”
Gizmo slowly nodded, then said, “You know, maybe your solution could be your problem.”
Mentally, Douglas rolled his eyes. Typical. The barkeep knows all the answers to life’s questions, but it’s easier to figure out the answer yourself than to get him to talk straight. “Whatever. See you later, Gizmo.” He climbed off of his seat, and walked outside, watching as the sun rose higher in the sky over yet another day.
_________________ 
Last edited by Chichindrich on Thu Sep 20, 2007 2:26 am, edited 1 time in total.
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