The End of Albion

This is the end of Albion. Well, perhaps I should say, the process of becoming the end. It still stands by what little hope it has but it is rather apocalyptic. Please read that with the empathy I intend. If it sounds chipper, drop your lips down into a frown. I am not at all chipper. I am, in fact, rambling in aggravation. I do that when I'm peckish......hungry.....starving. Anyway, I should probably provide you, the reader, with a proper greeting.

I am Charlie Matthew Lucas the Twenty-fifth. Not a very appealing name, I know. However, you better remember its 'Charlie' not 'Charles'. The latter would be more truthful, but I sort of want to keep it a little fresh. As you can see, it is a little down the line. Many sons to our blood! Except one unfortunate lady....

Now where was I? Ah, the apocalypse. I'm sorry, I can't detail you how it happened. It sure the hell wasn't my fault. Many say it was our Queen who destroyed us. Though I can blame many things, I can't seem to believe that. She seemed far too lovely. I'm not sure how the hell she could of constructed this either or why. For now, I'll just argue the Hobbes are responsible. They killed my beloved horse, you know.

I'll save that story for later. I'm in enough pain right now; I don't need to bring more tears. Why am I crying? Well, I'm not really. More like watery puppy eyes.  I'm not ashamed to admit it. I have emotions. I have a stomach that is growling obscenities that my late mother would beat me till I'm dead then have all the time to beat me some more if she heard its foul language. Damn it, I need some food. Water should probably be my first priority but I still have some saliva at least. Nothing in my pit, though.

Alright, enough with my repetitive whining. If this is going to be a log of sorts, I need to stop treating it like a prepubescent girl's diary. So I suppose I should start jotting down what I know. As I said, I am Charlie Matthew Lucas the twenty-fifth and I am, as of right now, sitting by a dead tree in the middle of a vast dry plain with this rag tag caravan being led by a fallen industrial giant.

I suppose he should be leader. I admit he has some survival smarts and you, the surviving reader, more than likely will remember this 'celebrity' from before this unfortunate cataclysm. If we survive, he will probably get all the attention after. Just know you are reading from down on my luck me, Charlie Matthew Lucas the twenty-fifth. I'm not conceded; I just want a little recognition. Reaver has had more than enough. And he did steal this leadership from me.

Anyway, here we rest in this plain. We can see a cluster of dead trees off on the horizon where the sun is setting and Reaver is busy checking the scrappy rations so we can eat the damn crumbs and get some damn sleep. I know he's going to take a few moments with the four children in our caravan complaining damn near in his face. From what I've seen of him before, I wouldn't have pegged him good with children at all, but he must have some amazing selective hearing to at least not be glaring certain doom upon them right now.

He must be completely absorbed in counting out the sections of crumbs for us. How caring. I'll take this waiting time to begin the log. From my recollections of the start of this cataclysm to whatever is happening at the present time and eventually the end. If I die, I'll try to write something down to alert you of the sudden closure.

Chapter One: A Sudden Change in Weather
Day One

The morning that day was going fairly well. I was feeding my mare, rest her soul, a crisp apple as we took a break from outrunning a small group of bandits. Beverly, my mare, had victory written all over her face. She loved running. She loved kicking. She loved running and kicking bandits right in their dirty faces....and very delicate areas. As she was swallowing her treat, that's when I should of read the first sign of trouble. Her ears went back and she turned her head over her shoulder towards the sky and let out a small grunt. I didn't really think much of it. I glanced and just assumed she heard the birds that were flying in flock above us. Another sign I should of been keen to. Nevertheless, I patted her neck and clicked for her to follow. We were walking down a small grassy knoll and I could see a few run down shacks in the distance. I don't know what little run down town it was. I had lost my job as a town crier and Beverly and I were just roaming the world without a map or destination.

I saddled up on my horse as we drew closer, not knowing if we might have more kicking victims if it this place turns out to be hostile. To our relief, it seemed friendly... enough. There were three women conversing in a gossip circle outside one of the shacks with their children playing tag around them. I could see a couple of men chopping wood on the far end. When we approached, the children pointed at us, or Beverly to be more specific, and expressed their excitement at such a beautiful creature. She was, after all, a wild paint horse with a stunning black and silver coat. The women quickly stopped their gossiping to see what stranger their children were about to carelessly greet.

"Allbie! Stay put!" the tallest lady of dark red hair scolded the child that was closest. She looked at me like daggers of fire would instantly summon and sodomize me if I even thought about being a threat. How sexually scary of her.

"What'ju want?" she asked me.

"Just passing through, Madam," I had answered her with a hint of fear for that fiery dagger sex," Just a...an...adventurer of sorts."

"An adventurer?" she had lightened up at that,"Do you have any interesting goods to sell or trade?"

For a good few minutes I had conversed with those women about all the interesting nic nacs I had for their bored eyes. I was thinking I was going to get some gold and move on about my day as per usual to the unusual but that is when it happened. It seemed without warning then, though I was just truthfully blind to the signs that day.

A low but loud earth shifting roar rang from everywhere and suddenly the ground had ripped like paper, tearing myself and my horse away from the women and the rest of their town. It took me and even Beverly a few moments to realize what had happen. When it registered, we both let out shocked cries and scrambled away from the still crumbling ground.

I caught a glimpse of the shacks of those simple folk across the tear collapsing down into the rift with each violent shake. It honestly still tightens my stomach. Maybe they backed away to safety quick enough. Maybe reading this in the future. Hopefully but probably not.

Beverly had ducked her head under me and flipped me onto her back to quickly get us away from the rapidly spreading scar. I was bent over sideways across her saddle watching in utter confusion as the ground broke away right behind her hooves and I could hear trees snapping and falling ahead.

I don't know how she was keeping herself upright with the earth shaking back and forth and side to side and even up and down. Trees falling just inches from us. My coat bares a tear from a branch off one of them but I don't care. I didn't care then either. I was just worried to death that Beverly was going to split a hoof or break her leg or worse.

She finally got us a good distance away from the rip, and I felt her slowing to a trot. The ground was still shaking violently but she had got us into a clearing to avoid the breaking trees. I clicked my tongue loudly so she would stop and rest for a moment while we were in no immediate danger. The rip had stopped widening and I could see it spreading lengthwise; I was hoping no more would open up while we stood here.

So there I clung to her, still unadjusted in the saddle watching the chaos quake all the world in my view. I could not bring myself to think at that moment, only watch. And I watched the sky grow dark, very dark, without even registering the danger; I was so lost in my blankness.  Beverly's loud whine was the only thing that alerted me. I jolted upright and clicked loudly again. She got us retreating again at full speed. Not two seconds after, it started pouring down hard rain on the still quaking earth and lightening struck down all over the place, but scariest of all was the wind. I didn't dare look back but I assume there had to have been a tornado spawning behind us.

I don't know where she were running us to, but we just kept going. I did not want to be in the vicinity of a tornado. I was too scared for us to take cover in a ditch because of the quake and too scared to think about what we were running into. I just clung to Beverly and trusted the horse.

Luckily for me, I didn't have to witness the devastation anymore. A nice piece of debris struck me right across the head and knocked my cowardly self out. How it didn't knock me clear off Beverly or how I didn't slide off during that nap, I don't know, but I'll tell you what I awoke to in the next chapter. For now, it is time to eat. It seems Reaver has finally settled on the portions for us. Yummy.