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This webpage chronicles part of the Nobilis
campaign I am playing in, which is run by Jeremiah Genest.
What's it like? Well...
A wind blows...
And Kublai Khan in his stately pleasure dome, stirs,
awakened by the wind. He has realized, in his dreams,
that in the lives of emperors there is a moment which
follows pride in the boundless extension of the
territories they have conquered, and the melancholy
and relief of knowing they shall soon give up any
thought of knowing and understanding them. And he
wishes for a distraction from that thought.
A man in an office building, somewhere it matters not,
begins to dream, resting his elbows on the desk and
leaning out of the window a little, he dreams of dim
Guadalajara - City of rose-colored flowers.
A band is playing Scheherazade by
Rimsky-Korsakov, though the wind is quiet they pick up the
volume as if trying afraid of being drowned out.
Children at their games take up a new and different
rhyme....
"A man of the way conforms to the way; a man of virtue
conforms to virtue; a man of loss conforms to loss.
He who conforms to the way is gladly accepted by the way;
He who conforms to virtue is gladly accepted by virtue;
He who conforms to loss is gladly accepted by loss. "
...their teachers, with frightened miens, quickly end
recess and rush the children back to the classes, unsure
themselves why they are so disturbed as the autumn wind
ruffles hair and clothes.
In a busy metropolis gusts of wind cause pedestrians to
pull their coats tighter about them as they pass by a
homeless man, ranting on the street corner...
"Do you want to see what human eyes have never seen? Look
at the moon. Do you want to hear what ears have never
heard? Listen to the bird's cry. Do you want to touch what
hands have never touched? Touch the earth. Verily I say
that God is about to create the world."
...the wind blows, and these city-dwellers so used to
closing themselves off from others do not hear.
The wind blows and the web of time -- the strands of which
approach one another, bifurcate, intersect or ignore each
other through the centuries, embracing every possibility -
is disturbed.
A hundred souls will leave this world. And an Angel from
Heaven will seek shelter from the wind.
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