This section contains plot details about the game.
His fastidiousness was extreme. Near pathological.
But it was that tireless desire to clean up the city which saw him rise through the ranks of public service to consul.
His love of cleanliness was not without a cause, however.
As a young boy, he had been anything but tidy. Something of a wild child, he would return home from a hard day of playing covered head to toe in mud. His mother would meet him at the door with a smile, and gently wipe away the dirt he had accrued.
It was the death of that loving mother that marked the end of his youth.
A trifling cut on her hand had refused to close. In time, it swelled, then festered. First it claimed her arm, then her life. No one could ascertain the cause. But the boy knew it all began with a cut upon her hand. The very hand she had used to wipe the dirt from her son, despite her injury.
Having lost his mother at a sensitive age, he came to dwell on this thought... "It was the grime she scrubbed from me that sullied her hands and took her life." He had no proof yet still that doubt, that guilt, was etched deep within his subconscious. From that point on, he only knew peace when he was clean. An unshakable link between dirt and his mother's death saw to that.
Before long, idiosyncrasy gave way to obsession. In the days that followed his appointment as consul, his quirks played out on the city streets. Sullying public property brought a stiff fine. Littering, a night in jail. Those unable to maintain proper hygiene were banished. No exceptions were made.
Yet even that was not enough. The slightest smirch upon his pristine streets gnawed at him. A single fallen hair brought down waves of nausea. The conclusion was clear. Even the most diligent cleaning can never hope to outpace the spread of grime. No, filth must be stopped at the source.
Long and careful consideration brought the man his answer. It was the city's citizens who served as agents of squalor.
It was hopeless, then, he saw. So long as humans inhabited it, his city would never know the cleanliness he craved.
The sense of defeat was crushing. Filth was his great nemesis - the killer of his beloved mother. The war he'd waged against it had been a subconscious campaign of revenge from the start.
Yet vengeance would never be his... Defeat gave way to desolution. As the hope drained from him, a strange glow appeared.
A chalice stood before him. These words echoed in his ears: "If you would see your wish granted, its price must be paid."
The man took action at once.
He called for the entire sullied populace to gather in the city's largest square.
And there he sacrificed them all.
From their gathered flesh, a huge, cadaverous urn took form.
And from its lips, an endless stream of water poured. On contact with the streets below, it foamed and roiled, and the city was washed an immaculate clean. And little wonder... Human fat always has made the finest soaps.
The purifying water flowed and flowed until the entire city was submerged beneath the flood.
At long last, the man could rest assured of the city's spotlessness.
Yet still doubt left an indelible mark upon his mind. Now, with all the city's grime washed clean, he saw it all too clear. It was never the dirt around him he sought to be rid of.
It was the ghost of his mother.
The guilt of knowing that it was him - his filth that had killed her.
Had he only been a neater child... The desire to right the wrongs of the past had driven him all this while.
He now saw that it was his own sullied youth he wished to cleanse. The city and its people were naught but a barren surrogate.
And saw, too, that no effort, no action could ever grant his true desire...
He knew the only way to be free of his past was to wash his very existence away.
His resolve set, he willingly scaled the massive urn and took his place as part of it.
The city had lost its final citizen.Yet still the waters pour, even now, and the city remains pristine, in perpetuity.
Quests taking placeEdit
Heard during memory quests:
- Ugh... So dirty...
- How does it get so filthy?
- I scrub and I polish...
- ...but this town won't stay clean.
- I know what needs be done.
- The problem is the people.
- The filthy townspeople.
- I have no choice...
- To clean this town properly...
- I must rid it at the filthy source.
|Valhalla Abbey · Icarus Pasture · Mt. Helios · Leviathan (land)|
|Babylon · Noah's Desert · Lake Andromeda · Aquarius|
|Ruins of Tartarus · Plains of Olympia · Catacombs of Pandora · Caverns of Goliath|
|Necropolis · Elvenvale · Poseidon Inn· Luna Wastes|