Uncomfortable

Alistair,

Last night as I stood alone watching my fields of wheat being stroked by wind and moonlight, a cold chill – so cold that it frosted the grass upon which I stood – swept over me. I staggered back and stared down at the whitened lawn in shock. When I looked up, I beheld movement among the stalks of wheat. I soon saw that there were adders – several hundred at least – gliding rapidly toward me. I was transfixed with horror and they soon overtook me, surrounding and covering me. They did not bite and they did not mind when I moved… walked… ran to escape them. They stayed mildly by and are with me even now as I write this to you. They cover my body and watch me with intent concentration.

What is this? Why are they here? What is happening? Will they ever leave?

Quite Uncomfortable in Pozo de la Rueda

Uncomfortable,

It’s a fairly standard set of omens you have going on. In a word, you are probably an ancient pagan religion’s dark messiah, come to engulf the world in pain and make all mankind kneel or be destroyed. Before you do decide to seize your destiny, however, I point out the following: This isn’t unprecedented, and setting a trend of arising new ages tends to bring the other dreamers out of the woodwork.  Second, the more civilized parts of humanity are much better armed. Trying to conquer the world with the power of a man suited for conquering sword-swinging warriors of the days of yore is more of a suicide-by-Apache these days. Lastly, most of your warlords had a war to lord over. Given that you have no context whatsoever for your heritage, it’s safe to assume that anyone who would throw in with you with the required amount of devotion probably died of smallpox a while ago.

In the meantime, keep the adders fed until you decide what to do with them. They won’t bite you, but they’ll all start dying at around the same time, which is just a horrific mess.

Alistair