Saul, a regular of The Deuteronilus, spoke of a gentleman known to him simply as Varn, late of the Pass of Ziz. The story goes that one fine day Varn decided to make contact with the Department of Motor Vehicles via the telephone. His endeavour didn’t go nearly half as well as he would have hoped.
Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstruction and to rot.
Did Varn wither and die whilst patiently waiting in the phone queue from Hell? Perhaps his expiration was by way of myocardial infarction, or maybe he met death by visitation of God. To the mortals who remain here on Earth, the fashion in which he left this life remains a mystery.
On the island of Voshakan, located within the area known as The Valley of the Shadow of Death, is a tavern known as The Deuteronilus. The famous tavern opened its doors in 1818 and has been the site of many a discourse, of the fabled and factual variety. The original proprietor was a Mr Zebulon Zath who, according to tradition, wanted drinks at his tavern to ‘flow like a second Nile.’ An acquaintance suggested he translate ‘second Nile’ into the Latin tongue to give it ‘a name of grandeur.’
The Deuteronilus enjoyed success and before long was viewed as a watering hole for raconteurs and sojourners. Zebulon himself came to be respected among his peers and the general public alike. In 1834, bloodthirsty pirates invaded Voshakan with the intention of generally being horrible. Zebulon was amongst the first of the defenders to spill piratical blood. His skill with a sword was legendary, and many a pirate fell to his blade. Before long, it occurred to the pirates that the defenders were not part of the military; their ranks were dwindling at the hands of the general public.
The pirates retreated to the Sea of Atlas and the citizens of the free city of Nilhondas celebrated. Zebulon went from being perceived as an eccentric taverner to a revered defender of the peace. All was well in his world.