Part 1 in a series of apocryphal essays concerning the nature of the Far Lands. Of all the great minds in Bastion, these five writers were available.
Inside the Jealous Mirror - Peter Mannick, Columnist for the Bogroll
Oh how they hate us. But who can blame them?
Bastion is home to the happy factoryman, the playful urchin, the smiling postguard. Together we've told greedy unionists to get back to work, kicked the backwards-minded yokels back into Deep Country, and embraced the glittering star temples that pen-pushing academics want you to abandon.
And so to the Unbastiards. A foreign man, if you can call them that, peering in envy from a land that we don't even bother to map. Their hair is soft, their hands clean. We have only their laziness to thank for their current absence from our city.
Their cities have no work houses or offices, only parks to indulge in their life of leisure. Instead of temples to the stars, they idolise themselves by lavishing riches upon their children. In place of our free market of trade and personal ownership, they wash with the same cloth as their neighbour.
You'll read that the Unbastiards aren't here, but do not let your guard down. If the new family on your street have suspiciously spotless skin, smooth pale features, or a lackadaisical attitude to paperwork, send their name and address to this publication for investigation.
3hp, Back-Scratcher (d6), Soft Clean Clothes.
- Indulge in arts and leisure activities.
- Expect to be able to share anyone's possessions.
- Act impulsively without filing the proper paperwork.