A Paradox in Retrograde

The story of “A Paradox in Retrograde” is set in a far
distant future, on island city state Baldur. Balanced on
the edge of a decimated world, Baldur is governed by the
power of myth and dependent upon the latent technology
of a previous lost civilization. An unfolding chain of
events soon leads to a discovery of a coming catastrophe.
They must deal with a mysterious discovery of strange
objects, found among the remains of a crashed alien vessel high in the hills above the city. In the midst of this, a
mysterious stranger named Ananda appears suddenly out
of the sea. This stranger suffering from some deficit of
memory knows little more than his name.

For years untold the fortress city of Baldur like a sentinel stood
defiantly in the face of the relentless sea. Cast there upon the
rocky fringes of an island that bore its name, against all odds its
culture had survived. Its tenuous existence was no small miracle. For onto this barren rock by the force of will of its sturdy
inhabitants, a toe hold had been well earned. Through their toil
they had tamed a rugged wilderness, and in doing so they had
brought forth a semblance of a nation. In days passed, they had
been the rulers of the sea and their country served as a beacon of
light in a dark age. In the fullness of time however this progress would run its course as their fortunes then had begun to
succumb to pressures seemingly beyond their control. In little
more than a century's time, disasters both economic and natural
had caused a world wide network of trade to all but crumble.
Though a mere shadow of its previous self, Baldur had fared
better than most, for its people were resilient. These citizens of
this island nation though accustomed to being tested, had not
before found themselves so besieged and isolated. Held as it
were to ransom by the unpredictable powers of nature, they had
drawn unwittingly one step nearer the end of their long decline.

Dominating the silhouette of the fortress city stood the imposing
citadel ofBreideblic. Older than the city itself, it had served in
days past as a nucleus for the fledgling city.

For untold centuries it loomed over this rocky shore casting its
gaze down toward the beckoning sea. Now from the vantage of
Breideblic’s high promontory men clad against the weather there
were stationed on lookout duty. Starring out beyond into the gray
blanket of swirling skies, they watched for any ominous portents
that were held there. For days on end they had paid close attention, carefully studying the gathering clouds as they rolled out
from across the charcoal sea. These men having studied many a
storm, had begun to form a consensus for a prediction. Now
though it seemed obvious that a great storm had risen upon the
ocean, there questions still remained. Chief among these seers'
was an old man of unruly appearance named Manfred. With his
long scraggily beard and locks he looked more the part of a hermit than a meteorologist. Though these portents rendered were
more symbolic than scientific, his forecasts were more often than
not correct. This record lent an air of respect to his predictions
that few could match. So despite the simmering disapproval of
some of the younger watchmen, he would be given the due respect of the final say. He looked around at those assembled and
said, "For many a year have I looked out onto the sea. There to
see those signs as would be revealed of impending doom, I have
been charged. Today my pronouncement is such. I have seen
signs and this is what they have told me." As he made his description his arms animated the scene, circling them in great arcs
above his head. "From out across the iceberg laden sea, a frigid
mass of lightning charged air soon will here make landfall. There
it will combine with warm wet air rushing forth from the sun
drenched lands to the south. It is my opinion that from this conflagration a great storm will emerge and wreak havoc on the land.
For three days rain will fall and great surges of the sea will rise
up to our very gates."