The Valley of the Blind
|The Valley of the Blind|
|Description||Supercharged prayers but lots of Motor Cyclops’|
Shroods Plateau, or as it is now known - The Valley Of The Blind, is now a charred and desolate piece of land that was terraformed by angry gods and goddesses due to the downfall of a former guard named Shrood.
It would be unfair to lay the blame squarely on the shoulders of Shrood. It was initially the backlash from angry heroes and sinister forces that started the inevitable doom of the once, beautiful plateau. Unfortunately, it is Shrood that will ever be remembered as the cause.
Shrood Enseepee was a guard in the bustling city of Godville. He was a relatively happy and content person who liked his job, friends and nature. However, he longed to build a house upon a plateau he often camped on as a child. He was tall and charismatic, this helped and offset the fact that he unfortunately had only one eye and, at first glance, would often be mistaken for a bandit to those who didn’t know him. He was, however, very good with people and could often diffuse any hostile incident by merely using his tongue and because of this, he was well known throughout the city. It was this talent that thrust him into the recently created position of ‘Remover of unse’en things’. Rich merchants (who wanted to stay that way) had been holding secret meetings behind secret doors to address the growing and very un-secret problem of blind beggars roaming about the city. The beggars were not the issue, it was the decreased profits that caused them to wake in the night, cold sweat pouring from their respective brows. This and increasingly ostentatious demands from pampered wives helped make up their minds and they began forming a not-so-cunning plan.
Shrood was informed that the heroes of Godville were angry. Angry that their beer was being spilled and wasted on the floor by the increasing amount of blind beggars jostling about in taverns. In a move of pure tyranny and inhumanity, the leaders - funded by the merchants and appointed to keep the streets clean - opted to simply move all the blind people to a secure, off-site location. Shrood was outraged and defiantly rejected any offer of gold that was given to him. That was until they offered him enough gold to last a lifetime and a massive piece of land - the plateau. “It shall now be known as Shroods Plateau.” the leader declared, “Think about it, Shrood. Your own land. You can keep the beggars as slaves and live a life of veritable luxury! On the plateau, the one eyed man shall be King!” he crooned. The saying that every man has a price was true. Shrood didn’t realise that he had been corrupted by greed and could only think of the lush flora and exciting fauna of the place he loved the most being his own to roam at his leisure. Any moral redemption was bribed away and his fate was sealed.
It took many months for him to coerce and flatter all of the blind, but he, along with some paid mercenaries, eventually led the massive caravan of beggars out of Godville and towards their final destination. They eventually reached the plateau after a year and a few months of interesting travel. Shrood declared himself King of the Plateau and made the beggars erect a huge castle with an adjoining village and a miniature golf course. Being blind, existing in a world of magic and having no real experience in building, the finished product was dangerously bizarre and an affront to general physics and the laws of time and space. The best example is when the King painfully found out that he should have never putted a golf ball on hole 7 of the golf course. The ball disappeared but the next morning, as he was sitting on the toilet he heard a strange noise which was followed by an excruciating pain in his nether regions. The blind doctor passed him the cleaned golf ball and uttered something about space-time fluctuations and wormholes. Later on that very same day, hole 7 was boarded up.
Years passed and Shrood had become more despotic in his reign. The beggars were depressed and downtrodden with no chance to escape or break free from their shackles. A few gods and goddesses had tried to smite him but whenever they did, the strange nature of the castle always seemed to bounce the lightning away, much to their chagrin. One fateful and infamous day, however, everything changed.
King Shrood strode from his castle, naked and indignant (he often walked around naked as everyone was blind and knew no different) and ordered a decree: “I am King of all I see! Therefore, I am the God of all I see! Let it be known that from now on you shall have to worship me as your God! Go now, spread the word!” With that, he turned around and began to march triumphantly towards his castle. Unbeknownst to him, at the same time as his speech, a god was drifting by and overheard it all. He wasn’t a happy god, no. He was slightly peeved. In fact, he was furious! He used his divine powers to communicate with the other gods and goddesses of Godville. He informed them of “this feeble, insolent mortals attempt at stealing our believers!”. Word soon spread amongst the deities and before long they were all centred around the plateau, filled with a mix of amusement, curiosity and vengeance. Murderous, cold blooded vengeance. A few of the younger gods and goddesses, giddy with excitement and the vigour of youth, nervously shot a few errant bolts towards the castle which, by an amazing coincidence and not a good aim, struck hole 7 of the miniature golf course. The god-king looked out of his window and frowned. The following morning, as the sleepy and reality deprived ‘god-king’ was about to go to the bathroom, a bolt of lightning exploded up through the toilet bowl and blasted a massive hole in the side of the castle. Shrood, who improbably survived the explosion sat up. He had a strange vacant glint in his eye as he spat out the contents of his mouth “I hate manure.” he mumbled. The god-king went to the top of the castle (which was actually the side wall) clad in his usual regal attire, looked towards the sky and began to monologue. After the first hour, the various deities started placing bets to see if he’d last another hour or two. 34 hours later, the various deities were becoming bored, had set up some different games and a bar - obviously -, they were about to order some take away food when the monologue came to a rather clichéd but interesting conclusion: “..and another thing! I! Me! The God-King Shrood, is ruler over all I see! And I can see you! You are MY followers now! MWAHH HA HA HA HAAA!!!!!” and with that he stomped down into the castle deep.
Bemused, the various eternal beings looked around at each other (metaphorically speaking) and all went quiet until one god said “Um, two things stand out. One. Did you hear that last laugh!? That was some bat-guano crazy laughter going on. Oh, and did you see the amount of exclamation marks he used!? He’s definitely lost the plot! Two. He’s kind of got a point. We are all here watching him, following him if you like....?” he trailed off embarrassed at his own words. Another god simply said “Right, that’s it. I’ve had enough. I say we all blast him at the same time. That should save him, and us, from this madness. Who’s with me? Yeah? Good. OK, on the count of three..” The same goddess that had sent the earlier washroom bolt asked “Are we going on the count of three or af....” “Oh, shut up with your clichéd trope!” replied the self appointed demolitions leader “Your ER points are going down for that one! 3, 2, 1... BLAST!”
There are no, up-close, eye witness accounts of what happened for obvious reasons, but that didn’t matter because everyone knew. The thunderous clatter reverberated around Godville like a universal bass drum on steroids. The light was so blindingly intense that only those who inhabited the outermost regions were able to describe it. One teenager described it like this: “Well, you know when those wizards come around with their sparkly lightening ball thingies and you think that you’re gonna die when you touch it, but you have a go ‘cos Trevor went and touched it an’ all that happened was his hair stood on end? So, you touch it and nothing happens apart from all your pals laughing at you cos your hair’s all standing up on end like...? Well it was almost like that but more... flashy n’ stuff, what with the ground shakin all over the place and the birds and monsters fleeing for their lives. Oh, and the air tasted like that taste you get when you lick a battery, I don’t usually lick batteries but I did it for a dare from Jess that one time in the woods...”
The following day people travelled from far and wide to the epicentre of one of the worst disasters in Godvilles history. What they found horrified them. Gone was the beautifully lush plateau, the castle and village. There was nothing but a single golf ball rolling from the general direction of the retired golf course (a god sniggered in pride at that one). It was as if the ground had tried to retreat in opposite directions to avoid the biblical onslaught from above. Anything that couldn’t or didn’t get out of the way was instantly vaporised or was turned into a bubbling mass. Straight through the platform was a newly created valley, still steaming, cracking and popping as the molten rock settled into its trendy, post-modern, up-cycled form. Of the two discoveries (at the time), the strangest was the mass of blind ex-slaves roaming around dazed but completely unharmed. Apparently the gods and goddesses had taken pity upon them and shielded them from harm. Not wanting to be the next Shrood, everyone who was there decided it would probably be best to just leave them alone, so they did. What they found next only helped their speedy decision to leave. Inscribed on one face of the cooling rock was a message from a god (or goddess, no one ever found out who it was), it read:
‘King Shrood, never try to deify oneself. We don’t like it. Since you so wanted a one eyed man to be king in this place, we shall gift to you an abundance of super charged Motor Cyclops’ to roam the vale: ‘In the valley of the blind, the one eyed monster shall be king!’.’
That was a long time ago when the holy ones were a bit more tetchy. These days ancestors of the blind beggars still forage the land. They are still blind because of a weird Godville-ian twist in epigenetic transference, but can often be found (incredibly) finding three course meals with a selection of wines behind rocks or underneath bushes. The monsters that roam the land (mainly Motor Cyclops’) appear to ignore their neighbours in favour for any nearby, unwitting heroes. The reason for their indiscretion towards the blind was due to a Pavlovian response - whenever they tried to eat an unsuspecting and therefore easy meal, they always met their demise in a most improbable, comic fashion. They decided it was probably best just to leave them alone. Heroes, however, have no problems here and find that even with a small prayer, their respective deities seem all powerful. Theologians speculate this is due to an accumulation of excess godpower in the vicinity, leftover by the cataclysmic acts of angry deities, and probably won’t dissipate for at least two eternities.
- Had he been a bit more educated, he would have asked about the apostrophe and been told that “it’s a more progressive way of saying ‘removing the blind’, it’s not ‘unseen things’, it’s ‘_un-seeing_ things’.”