[John de Ipsum] – Epic-Premise

Here I attempt to detail out the epic-premise of the tale. Preamble here.

The mighty city of Agretalarsenitapoli. The city of a thousand ages was past its prime. The grand old empire was decaying. The Emperor was a right wing fundamentalist, excellent at propaganda and oratory. The plebeians were docile and stupid. The bureaucracy was self-serving at best otherwise largely spineless. Thus, the Emperor hoarded enormous wealth and power and she had no one to oppose. It was an autocratic utopia rapidly transitioning into a state cult of theocracy.

The regime rewrote history in its favour. Colonial powers never existed. Democracy was vaguely defined in the bitterest terms. Any other religion except Tinda, the state religion, was viciously shamed and derided. The most outspoken liberals, especially those who could possibly have talked some sense into the nation, were summarily branded as anti-nationalists and executed. As the state grew in power they met with exemplary executions.

In ordered to curb the already insignificant logical voice of the liberals, an Imperial bull mandated compulsory registration for all liberals. A religious force, espousing the Imperial interpretation of Tinda dictums, came into existence. It’s hot pink ( the sacred Tinda color) clad cadets struck terror in the heart of non-believers. The junglefowl, once pretty commonly consumed and often celebrated, based on religious dictums was declared sacred and as the emperor’s fowl. Loose, ultra-violent militia sporadically sprung up in various parts of the empire. They had the alleged support of the state machinery and styled themselves as fowl guardians. Random killing of non-Tindas in the name of rumored fowl consumption was starting to become commonplace.

The situation turned so bad that all the liberals and innovators convened a meeting and came to a general consensus that ‘kuch ni ho sakta abhi’. This lead to mass exodus of all liberals, freethinkers etc. out of the country ( allegedly partly supported by the state). They made their way into the ocean and built undersea cities, genetically enhanced nearby dolphins to sentience and lived happily ever after.

In this brutal and often unfair world, in the middle-class, unambitious house of Joseph and Mary Doe was born a healthy baby boy. They named him John Doe. You would say that the name itself depicts indifference and mediocrity. You can’t even begin to imagine how wrong you are right now.

The Jord of Ipsidom – A tale of heroic mediocrity.

I am attempting, for the umpteenth time to write a story. I don’t knows how this will go. Going by the past record. I will just drop it. However, if it does turn out to be something nice (although the chances are highly unlikely) I promise to work hard on it and get it published ( Note to myself – roflmao, looser ).

My Name is Wah’reek’Achwak. I am a nondescript records keeper in a nondescript town in the Empire of Dor. I have an extraordinary story to share with you. However, unlike most authors out there, my intention is not to sell the book well and live off the royalty. So, I am to share with you the gist of it all before I dive into details.


It starts with a the most unfortunate tale of a hero, who didn’t know he was the heir to the empire he lived in. This was before the time Unfortunately, his parents couldn’t afford to bring him up (raising up princes is a costly affair), so they had to abandoned him. He was taken in by a kindly Rheasus Macaque who took him up ‘The grand tree’. There he was happy for time being until a lumberjack found him. He was swinging his great axe on ‘the grand tree’, and the lake spirit had just decided to pretend screwing him over by hustling his axe-head and playing her dirty little game…

Oh well, I am rambling. Anyways, the gist of it – a lot of things happen. The hero fell in love with a passably good looking and rather exotic elf princess’s scullery mail. But it all doesn’t matter since in the end everything is destroyed ( which I will describe in graphic details with illustrations ). Then Heimdall raises the Gjallarhorn into the air and blows deeply into it.