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| Table of Content |
| Anecdota Septentrionalis (I) |
| Anecdota Septentrionalis (II) |
| Anecdota Septentrionalis (III) |
Anecdota Septentrionalis (I)
 | Name | Anecdota Septentrionalis (I) |
| Type (Ingame) | Quest Item | |
| Family | Book, Anecdota Septentrionalis | |
| Rarity |  | |
| Description | An ancient Remurian scroll you accidentally discovered in the ruins. There is no way to verify the truth of the words within. |
| From time immemorial, those respected poets, playwrights, and historians have loved to write that which is utterly absurd and have the temerity to call it their real experiences. Anyone who cares to look can tell it's a pack of lies, and still, they insist on extravagantly embellishing everything while bending over backward to maintain a facade of sincerity, swearing that "I saw it all with my own eyes! Not a word of it is false!" as though they cared not an iota how they would be ridiculed in the ages to come. For example, Xanthus Talassii filius wrote of his meetings with the barbarians in the north, speaking of how they used glass and platinum to build their prosperous polis amongst the mountains, calling their king a "knight." He even claimed that they have seventy-two legions, each comprised of 66,600 soldiers, all armed with weapons forged of the purest of sourcewater, brighter even than the crystals of Machimos. In reality, he has not in his life even set foot outside of Capitolium. Forget barbarians, he's probably never even seen barbecued eel! However, it must be said his stories are interesting at least. As such, to satiate my own vanity, I felt I too must write something for posterity. However, I have no experiences worth mentioning and am unlike those respectable folks who name the cock and bull stories they concoct "true accounts." So I will freely and honestly admit that everything I write is completely, utterly fabricated. After all, since I've admitted it up front like this, nobody can call me a fraud. Anyway, the events I shall now commit to paper have never been heard of before, nor experienced by anybody, and are nothing more than pure nonsense that I have fabricated with no basis in reality. It is not more truthful than tales of "Lochknights," so you need not believe any of it. Thus, we weighed anchor and set sail, traveling ever northward, passing through the territory of the barbarians, with a tailwind spurring us on. Our goal was simple: To see just what the edge of the ocean looks like. According to Quinctilius, the High Sea ends in impassable waterfalls in every direction, but this was, evidently, utterly wrong: after all, did not the respected Iuvenalis also write of the "faraway kingdom in the north"? Anyway, the farther north we went, the less land we saw. At first, there were still clusters of islands and archipelagos covering the sea's expanse, but later there were little more than tiny bare isles dotting the waves remaining. A few days of sailing later, even those islets vanished, leaving nothing but boundless blue. Fortunately, we had brought sufficient supplies of fresh water and food, and were in no danger of dying from thirst or starvation. We sailed for 79 days without sight of land. We were originally planning on turning back at that point, but to our surprise, on the 80th day, in the middle of the ocean, we were attacked. A group of bandits riding on the backs of giant birds blocked our path and asked us for potatoes. If you wish to know just how gargantuan those birds were, I can tell you that each of their feathers was as thick as the Ocean Pillars. With absolutely no hope of resisting, all we could do was fall to our knees and pray to Sebastos to deliver us, to let us live another day, and we swore to never again travel so recklessly, or write baffling believe-it-or-not travelogues. But in a flash, faster than words could describe, warriors riding Blubberbeasts surged up from beneath the sea's surface, each Blubberbeast larger than fifty Sumpter Beasts, their entire bodies draped in armor made of crystals, the scales of dragons, and cabbages, and they tore into the massive birds, biting them until they cried for their mommies and daddies, and soon they fled without a trace. It was only then that we noticed that the appearance of those knights was completely different from that of us humans. They were more like bipedal vishaps. With those eyes of his, glowing with their strange light, the leader of the knights spent some time sizing us up, before casually speaking with winged words: "Dear guests, are you merchants from Serenum?" We had not the slightest clue what kind of place "Serenum" was, so we told him the whole story, that we were seafarers from Remuria, and wanted to see what the end of the ocean looked like. |
Anecdota Septentrionalis (II)
 | Name | Anecdota Septentrionalis (II) |
| Type (Ingame) | Quest Item | |
| Family | Book, Anecdota Septentrionalis | |
| Rarity | | |
| Description | An ancient Remurian scroll you accidentally discovered in the ruins. There is no way to verify the truth of the words within. |
| Hearing our words, he burst into laughter, and he laughed so hard that even the sailfin on his back shook. As he howled with laughter, he managed to say that there's no such place as "Remuria," merely a fake history invented by the southern barbarians who, not having their own civilization, created a fictional empire that simply didn't exist. We said that no, we were Remurians, and he guffawed even louder, and asked us to provide some kind of reliable historical data or archaeological evidence that could prove Remuria really exists. We simply could not produce the proofs, and he assured us that these sorts of strange fantasies were not illegal in their lands, and so long as we did not eat Sunsettias in public, we would still be honored guests in their Empire of Solaris. He went on, saying that based on our clothing, we probably weren't secret agents of the rebel army, but were likely traveling traders from Hyperborea. Their empire was currently in a state of civil war, and they hoped we could assist them in defeating said rebels. It turned out that the Solaris Empire has very advanced technology, and some decades ago, a philosopher named Lucilius invented a way for some people to obtain extraordinary abilities far exceeding those of ordinary mortals. But it came at a price. Their appearance would change to be unlike those of ordinary people. Some believed that this practice destroyed the purity of humanity, and those with special powers had but two options: to be slaves, or to be destroyed utterly. And so the two sides quickly came to blows, and it was a fight to the death, with oceans of blood being spilled. I comforted him on the spot, telling him that in my opinion, this type of thing has been happening since ancient times. I could think of at least twenty plays on the spot, each revolving around this exact theme — this too was a reflection of just how the arts in Remuria were flourishing. Pisculentum's Terentius at once praises humanity as being equal yet powerful creatures, while also describing how only a small number of people innately possess special powers, and has them go off and conquer and destroy all others, no? I recommended they just stop researching technology to alter humanity, and instead focus their efforts on technology to alter Blubberbeasts, as Blubberbeasts are far more likable than humans. He said he would consider my wise suggestion, but that the more pressing matter was exterminating the despicable traitors. So long as we were willing to lend a helping hand, he would give us the most powerful Imperial Blubberbeast mounts to ride, and we would lead thirteen of his legions, each with a million soldiers, for a total of 13 million soldiers, and outflank the enemy to their left. As he had saved us from a rebel attack, we assented to his request. Dear readers, everything I described above I saw with my own eyes! Not a word of it is false! As for the war that followed, it was even more unbelievable. I remember a blind slave who followed us singing thusly: "Sing, O musician, sing of the rage of the Blubberbeast which brought countless ills!" And just like that, the army of Blubberbeasts rolled forward, swallowing everything in its path like all-devouring flames, and the earth trembled and shook beneath their flippers. We arrayed our forces in formation upon the plains, and the leading officer prayed to their god before drawing taut a bowstring and loosing, sending a dog hurtling towards the rebel forces. The sound of the silver bow was unmanning to all who heard. But the rebels were not to be outdone, and they sent forth five million giants armed to the teeth. These giants were enormous, each dozens of times larger than the golems made by Sebastos's own hand, and they were said to be the reinforcements that the rebels had adjured forth from the seafloor. Though these giants each had but one eye — well, such things are quite normal, after all, the giants of which Pacuvius wrote are all like this — they had exceptional eyesight, and at the command of the rebel leader, they began to hurl Bulle Fruit at our troops with astonishing accuracy. These fruits would burst upon impact with the ground, spitting out masses of bubbles. Should you be touched by a bubble, you would float high up into the sky, until you flew straight into the sun. That is why the sun and Bulle Fruit have a similar color. As for the war's conclusion, respected playwrights throughout history virtually never write of such things — they wish to leave enough space for future stories. Out of respect for their traditions, therefore, I too shall go ahead and skip that part. |
Anecdota Septentrionalis (III)
 | Name | Anecdota Septentrionalis (III) |
| Type (Ingame) | Quest Item | |
| Family | Book, Anecdota Septentrionalis | |
| Rarity | | |
| Description | An ancient Remurian scroll you accidentally discovered in the ruins. There is no way to verify the truth of the words within. |
| After those events, we continued sailing onward for another 300 days on a vast, featureless ocean. Finally, we arrived at a tall wall in the middle of the sea, stretching out of sight, high up into the sky. Countless densely packed human figures were suspended from the wall, and though they had neither bodies nor muscles, their forms could clearly be seen. All on this earth who speak lies, or pen falsehoods in their writings, will be hung from this wall to receive judgment after their death. As for who built this wall, or what lies beyond it, I do not know, for everything in this travelogue is completely true, and thus we had no way to get close to the wall. Hence, we promptly began rowing backward with all haste, doing our utmost to flee that place, and I hope to never again get anywhere close to it. That evening, we arrived in a stretch of calm seas, close to a rather small island. Our freshwater supplies were nearly exhausted, so we made landfall in the hopes of replenishing them. It was then that every member of our party smelled a strange yet rich fragrance, and even the finest perfumes of Capitolium paled in comparison. It turns out that the island was inhabited, and they had even built a prosperous polis — everything in the city was made of gold, and was surrounded by a series of twelve walls, each wall constructed of a different kind of precious gemstone: The first was made of amethyst, the second of purple agate, the third of jadeite, the fourth of rubellite, the fifth of jasper, the sixth of topaz, the seventh of ruby, the eighth of cornelian, the ninth of emerald, the tenth of chrysoprase, the eleventh of sapphire, and the twelfth of jade. A great moat surrounded the city walls, a few hundred meters wide, and the fluid flowing therein was not water, but fresh milk, and that which swam within were pickled fish, already fully cured, ready to eat upon capture. The residents of the island seemed to all be women, and each and every one was dressed elegantly, their faces comely and youthful. They approached us one after the other, taking the initiative and hugging us by way of welcome. The name of the island is Amoria, and they said it means "love." They eagerly invited us into their homes as guests, and said they'd give us countless treasures as gifts, enough for us to buy all of Machimos. I began to feel a faint sense of unease — for could people who fawn over strangers so exist outside of the books of Ennius? But my companions were all quite familiar with those classic tales, and so found nothing strange at all about this, and followed them back to their homes. I had no choice but to feign delight on one hand, while secretly bringing with me the war booty the Solarians had presented me with: a Bulle Fruit. I followed one of the women back to her home, and once inside, I looked around carefully, and just as I expected, there were human bones all around. I promptly fished out the Bulle Fruit and took aim at her, demanding she tell me just what was going on. But she only laughed uproariously, turning into a pool of water and disappearing in the blink of an eye. I immediately gathered all my companions, and we fled back to our ship before we had a chance to gather any fresh water. But as we stared, there was no island at all, only the vast ocean behind us. As for how the story will unfold, pay close attention, for all will be revealed in the next chapter... |
I really want to try Overload and Overvape.