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A letter from a Victorian Originium scholar to Baron Coriolis describes the "Verdict Day" Catastrophe that destroyed Flavia, then the most important city on the Victoria-Sargon route. On August the 13th, dark clouds gathered, lightning and thunder followed, and an oval cumulus cloud formed above Flavia. Rain carrying massive boulders struck buildings, cyclones ripped towers from their foundations, and Originium clusters grew from the trembling earth. Heat evaporated raindrops and burned vegetation; dust blocked the sun. The scholar fled, tripping people were swallowed by the Catastrophe, and a tremendous Originium crystal impaled the camp where he had stayed. He walked for hours through falling mud until scouts brought him to a nearby town, where hysterical survivors gathered; the Duke's battleships arrived the next day. The letter is presented as a vivid example of Catastrophes, mankind's greatest enemy.
Catastrophes take many forms—strong winds, heavy snow and rain, extreme heat, meteors, and secondary Originium-linked phenomena such as volcanic activity near Siesta and seismic activity around Originium veins. Researchers categorize them into three types: Originium Natural Disasters, in which natural causes are amplified by Originium; Originium Fallout, where excess atmospheric Originium particles form Active Originium clouds that fall and release destructive energy (the type in the letter); and a third, believed artificially caused, manifesting as large-scale earthquakes and strange energy fields causing phenomena like abnormal gravity and cognitive interference.
The "Cannonade on Catastrophe" Experiment, in which the battleship Trafalgar fired sensor shells into a Catastrophe's core area, supported the theory that Catastrophes arise from the accumulation of Originium particles, whose agglomeration energy catalyzes and magnifies natural phenomena. Catastrophes accelerate the deterioration of the Infected. Rising industrial circulation of Originium particles may correlate with more frequent Catastrophes, though this remains unproven. Most Catastrophes are actually too small to see. With the exception of Kjerag, every civilization on Terra has been plunged into a dark age by Catastrophe.
Catastrophe Messengers observe Catastrophes and provide early warnings, measuring environmental fluctuations with their feet. Ancient civilizations learned Catastrophe patterns through nomadic migration; the profession evolved from priest and court advisor to a common, systematically trained occupation essential to siting and navigating nomadic cities. Messengers, known by different names across regions, record data, carry permits and communications equipment, and contact settlements to enable evacuations. Though respected, they appear in legends as ill-omened bringers of misfortune, can still err or commit crimes, and increasingly specialize amid growing demands.
The section opens with a letter from a Victorian Originium scholar to Baron Coriolis describing the "Verdict Day" that destroyed Flavia, then a key city on the Victoria-Sargon route. On August 13th, after surveying an outdoor Originium deposit, the scholar stayed at a traveler's camp less than a day's journey from Flavia. Around three in the post meridiem, black clouds filled the sky, and no one thought much of it at first. Lightning came first, then deafening thunder. From outside the campsite, built from a natural cave, the scholar saw an oval-shaped cumulus cloud swelling and swirling above Flavia, with bolts of lightning striking the earth.
The air became obscured. Floating rocks and particles drew near, and rain carrying massive boulders struck Flavia's buildings. Cyclones ripped towers from their foundations, and the city was covered in dust. Originium clusters grew from the earth, tearing the ground apart. The air grew hotter; raindrops evaporated before hitting the ground; vegetation burned or was torn apart. As the Catastrophe grew, the scholar and others fled in the opposite direction, seeing Flavia's stone architecture in ruins. Explosions, wailing, and screaming filled the air. People who tripped on suddenly elevated ground were swallowed by the Catastrophe. After several minutes of running, the heat faded, raindrops fell, and thunder and tremors grew less frequent. Surveying the path afterward, the scholar saw a tremendous Originium crystal impaling the camp, cracked earth, and Flavia shrouded in smoke. Mud fell from the skies, and the scholar walked for hours before two scouts dragged them from the mud and brought them to a nearby town. Survivors sent there were hysterical or woke screaming; it was not until the Duke's battleships and soldiers arrived the next day that they realized the Catastrophe was over.
The book then notes that while laypersons may view Catastrophes as natural disasters no human effort could resist, recent research indicates Catastrophes and Originium are closely linked. Catastrophes come in many forms with few shared traits, but observation by Catastrophe Messengers has identified their characteristics: strong winds, heavy snowfall and rainfall, extreme heat, and even meteors, plus secondary phenomena caused by Originium, such as the volcanic activity near Siesta and seismic activity around Originium veins.
Researchers categorize Catastrophes into three major types. First and most common are Originium Natural Disasters, whose causes are natural, with Originium only amplifying them—examples include desert thunderstorms in Sargon and cold snaps carrying massive hail on the Sami icefields. The second type, shown in the letter, is Originium Fallout, the earliest type identified: excess Originium particles accumulate in the atmosphere, forming Active Originium clouds; the particles agglomerate and fall once they reach a certain scale, unleashing energy on impact and creating massive, destructive Originium formations. The third type is believed to result from artificially created accumulations of Originium, typically manifesting as large-scale earthquakes, with Originium releasing tremendous energy and creating strange energy fields causing phenomena such as abnormal gravity and cognitive interference. For ordinary folk, however, any act of nature that destroys one's home is a Catastrophe.
The section then recounts the 'Cannonade on Catastrophe' Experiment. A battleship, tasked with a mission from the Earl, searched for the ground zero of an imminent Catastrophe outbreak. The Royal Victorian Academy of Sciences had worked with Earl Patrick to develop an Originium sensor fired in an artillery shell, connected by cable to send real-time data back to the ship. Onlookers gathered, some with tents, some selling barbecued sandworm legs—the arrival of a Catastrophe had never been met with such joy. At about 11am the sky darkened; the crowd shouted and sang. As the first lightning struck, the captain ordered the gunners to fire. The artilleries of the Trafalgar roared, sending volley after volley at the Catastrophe and returning seconds of invaluable data.
With the exception of Kjerag, every civilization on Terra has been plunged into a dark age on account of Catastrophe; all civilizations have arguably been shaped by Catastrophe. Early studies saw Catastrophes as simple natural phenomena, but scholars eventually turned their attention to Originium, which always appeared after Catastrophes. One laboratory experiment reproduced mini-Catastrophes using various powdered minerals from iron to Originium; Originium seemed the most unusual material, but the experiment could not determine whether it was the fundamental source of Catastrophe. It was the 'Cannonade on Catastrophe' Experiment that produced a plausible theory: Catastrophes are caused by the accumulation of Originium particles in nature, whose energy released during agglomeration catalyzes and magnifies natural phenomena into destructive Catastrophes. Agglomerated active Originium particles can cause powerful electrical discharge in the air, and the Originium shards formed grow rapidly into massive crystal clusters. One notable constant is their catalyzing effect on Originium crystals inside the Infected, causing rapid deterioration—a phenomenon not seen in normal natural disasters. The rise of industry has greatly increased the circulation of Originium particles, and increasingly frequent Catastrophes seem to correlate with industrial development, though any conclusion remains premature.
The section includes a July forecast, jointly published by the General Chamber of Messengers of Kawalerielki and copied to the Adeptus Sprawiedliwi Kazimierz to facilitate tournament organization: scattered Catastrophe occurrences are expected in Kazimierz, with a very low chance of outbreaks greater than Magnitude 3; Kawalerielki could be indirectly affected by Originium-intensified natural disasters in the southern barrenlands; and small, short, localized Catastrophes remain possible in July.
For modern Terrans, the fight against Catastrophes is rarely dramatic. Most of the time Originium releases energy in milder ways, producing Catastrophes too weak to observe with the naked eye. Strategically important regions invest more in monitoring, and the profession of Catastrophe Messenger has become more specialized. At key locations, Catastrophe Messengers deliver data to analysts, forming early-warning systems, with the most experienced transitioning into supervisory roles. These teams developed formal measurements for Catastrophes, including intensity and scale, being adapted and unified across ever more regions.
Travelers crossing the barrenlands move swiftly, but Catastrophe Messengers stop frequently to tap at rocks with hammers and read their Originium meters, sometimes venturing into remote, dangerous areas. Their main duty is observing and assessing Catastrophes and providing early warnings—though many deliver letters as a side job. Since naked-eye observation is insufficient, they rely on fluctuations in environmental parameters associated with Originium before a Catastrophe, which often occur within a very small range, forcing them to measure the land with their feet. They existed long before the first nomadic city; archaeological research suggests ancient civilizations—whether noble or peasant, Elder, Ancient, or Sarkaz—had to remain perpetually mobile to evade Catastrophes, and eventually appointed those with aptitude to track Catastrophes, the precursors of modern Messengers. Without them, it would be impossible to determine where to build nomadic cities or navigate safely; from the Lords Ameer of Sargon to the Kurfürsten of Leithanien, the powerful rely on them. Their status evolved from priest and court advisor to a profession accessible to common citizens, now based on systematic training and education rather than talent and verbally transmitted knowledge.
On the wastelands, Catastrophe Messengers are respected and few would knowingly harm them. Most carry a thick notebook of observation data, use Originium Arts to detect unusual responses, and compare data from different locations. Their backpacks hold testing equipment, observational tools, and documents granting access to cordoned-off Originium growth zones. They carry communications equipment to warn settlements of a large-scale Catastrophe's type, estimated formation time, and affected areas; Columbian Messengers fire a special flare visible to as many inhabitants as possible. They are known by different names—Night Watchers of the Empire in Ursus, Heralds of Omen in Minos, Shields of Civilization in Gaul—and their roles vary: Columbian Messengers are employed by tech firms and also conduct research, while elsewhere they are selected, trained, and employed by governments. Messengers are not the prophets of myth: they can make mistakes and even commit crimes, since missteps can cost countless lives. In recent years they have developed collective decision-making, and international organizations have emerged to handle cross-border issues such as the Contingency Contract. The sheer destructive power of Catastrophes makes their study taboo, and legends often depict Messengers as bringers of ill news; an ancient Sargonian fable tells of a Padishah who threw out a black-clad Liberi Messenger's warning, only for a Catastrophe to level his palace three days later.
The book closes by expressing the belief that the day will come when tragedies like Flavia are a thing of the past, when we learn to achieve balance and harmony with the environment. Perhaps one day Catastrophes can be predicted without individuals risking their lives, but as a Kazimierzian Catastrophe Messenger put it: "If this job didn't take me to dangerous places, I might not have taken it in the first place."
Supplementary Material
To the Honorable Baron Coriolis,
I am writing in response to your request for a description of the “Verdict Day” that I witnessed. First, let me express my sincere gratitude. A record of such an important incident by your honored hand will undoubtedly be of great significance to future generations. The Catastrophe took the lives of many friends and destroyed Flavia, the most important city on the Victoria-Sargon route at the time. It is an honor to contribute to its rebuilding in my own humble way.
The date was August the 13th. I had finished surveying an outdoor Originium deposit, and spent the rest of the day at a traveler’s camp less than a day’s journey from Flavia. The skies began to darken at around three in the post meridiem, and black clouds soon filled the sky. Summer showers were not uncommon, so no one thought too much of it, at first.
The first thing we saw was lightning. Then the deafening thunder came, but distance and the low elevation of the camp prevented me from making an accurate estimation on the exact time that the Catastrophe hit Flavia. Leaving the campsite, which was built from a natural cave, we saw that an oval-shaped cumulus cloud had formed in the skies above Flavia on the horizon, swelling and swirling, almost touching the horizon itself. Several bolts of lightning seemed to have struck the earth, and thunder rumbled continuously in the distance.
The air became obscured. Floating rocks and particles drew nearer and nearer, as did the lightning and thunder. Rain carrying massive boulders struck the buildings of Flavia. Roiling cyclones ripped towers from their foundation. The whole city was soon covered in a thick cloud of dust. Originium clusters grew from the earth, some much faster than others, tearing the ground apart, causing it to tremble and warp.
The air grew hotter. Raindrops evaporated before they hit the ground. Any vegetation on the ground was either burning or torn apart by the twisting earth. At the camp, we realized that the scale of the Catastrophe was rapidly growing. The crystal clusters and dust-filled gales rushed towards us. We ran for our lives in the opposite direction. I took one last look behind me and saw Flavia’s stone architecture in complete ruins.
I heard explosions, women wailing, and children screaming. People who tripped on the suddenly elevated ground were swallowed by the Catastrophe in pursuit. Light was gone from the sky, but it was not clouds that blocked the sun, rather, the dust above our heads. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me for several minutes. Only then did I realize that the heat was beginning to fade. Raindrops fell on my head, and the thunder grew less frequent.
The tremors became less frequent. I slid down a slope, and when the sound of rocks hitting the ground had completely ceased, I finally mustered the courage to climb back up and survey the path I had taken. It was the most horrifying sight I had ever seen. A tremendous Originium crystal impaled the camp. The rugged earth was cracked and broken. What little remained of Flavia was shrouded in smoke and dust. Fires raged all around, incinerating all vegetation.
Mud fell from the skies. I had to take particular care to avoid the mixture of rain and dust, lest the falling sludge drowned me. I walked for hours. At dusk, I finally encountered two scouts who had come from the surrounding area. They dragged me out of the mud and brought me to a nearby town. The darkness finally dissipated, revealing a setting sun.
Most of the other survivors were sent to the same town. Many were hysterical, unable to sleep due to fear and anxiety. Those who could sleep often woke in the middle of the night, screaming. The first night was the worst. It was not until the next day, when the Duke’s battleships and soldiers arrived outside the town, that we realized the Catastrophe was finally over.
Above is an account of my personal experience, though I reluctantly admit that the passage of time may have clouded my memory on certain details. I hope your Lord has found this account useful.
Peace and good health.
Your humble servant in scholarship, Aiden Adios
The above is a letter from a Victorian Originium scholar to Baron Coriolis. It offers a vivid description of the “Verdict Day” that struck the city of Flavia, and of Catastrophes in general, mankind’s greatest enemy.
While laypersons may view Catastrophes as natural disasters so unusual that no human effort could ever resist them, the truth may be far more complex. Recent research indicates that Catastrophes and Originium are closely linked.
The concept of Catastrophe was once a vague one. This is because they come in many different forms, with only a few shared traits. Observation by Catastrophe Messengers has allowed scholars to determine the characteristics of Catastrophes in the modern sense. They include strong winds, heavy snowfall and rainfall, extreme heat, and even meteors. Secondary natural phenomena caused by Originium are also considered Catastrophes. This includes the volcanic activity near Siesta, and the seismic activity that is often observed around Originium veins. While these phenomena are localized, they are considered Catastrophes due to their close association with Originium.
While Originium fallout is not the most common form of Catastrophe, it is often perceived as the most typical imagery—a stereotype of sorts. The signature massive crystal spikes are a result of Originium rapidly releasing energy and assimilating surrounding matter after its descent.
Researchers categorize Catastrophes into three major types based on their causes and manifestations.
First and most common are Originium Natural Disasters. A single Catastrophe may display some or all of the above traits, depending on the environment. From desert thunderstorms strong enough to destroy machineries in Sargon, to brutal cold snaps carrying massive hail on the Sami icefields, all of these are considered Originium natural disasters. The causes of these Catastrophes are natural, and Originium only serves to amplify them.
The Catastrophe mentioned in the letter at the start of this section is a typical example of the second type: Originium Fallout, which was the earliest type to be identified and categorized. Unlike Originium natural disasters, Originium fallouts
occur when excess Originium particles accumulate in the atmosphere, resulting in Active Originium clouds. The particles agglomerate and fall from the sky once they reach a certain scale. Upon impact with the ground, the energy within is unleashed, creating massive Originium formations with incredible destructive power.
The third type is even more unusual, and is believed to be the result of an artificially created accumulation of Originium. It typically manifests as large-scale earthquakes that devastate local lives and buildings, while Originium releasing its energy on a tremendous scale creates strange energy fields, resulting in unusual phenomena, such as abnormal gravity and cognitive interference.
Of course, for the ordinary folk who are neither Catastrophe Messengers nor scholars, any act of nature that destroys one’s home is a Catastrophe.
Supplementary Material
A crucial moment was upon us. Catastrophes came as quickly as they went, the window was fleeting. Let it slip away, and there was no knowing when the next opportunity would come.
Tasked with an honorable mission from the Earl, the battleship relentlessly searched for the ground zero of an imminent Catastrophe outbreak—something any sane person would shun at all costs. To understand the role that Originium plays in a Catastrophe outbreak, the Royal Victorian Academy of Sciences had worked with Earl Patrick to develop an Originium sensor that could be fired in an artillery shell, connected to a cable that sent data back to a ship in real-time. When the Catastrophe would strike, gunners would fire these special shells into the skies above its core area to collect data from that otherwise impenetrable zone of danger.
The spectacle brought a crowd of local onlookers. Some brought tents, others sold barbecued sandworm legs at makeshift stalls. The onlookers came from all walks of life. The arrival of a Catastrophe had never before been met with such joy and anticipation.
The sky began to darken at about 11am. The crowd shouted and sang.
Everyone knew that a Catastrophe was coming.
As the first bolt of lightning struck the ground in the distance, the captain appeared on the bridge and gave the order to the gunners.
“Fire!”
The artilleries of the Trafalgar roared, and shells flew towards the Originium cloud. However, the sound was quickly drowned by the deafening rumble of the distant Catastrophe. The crowd watched as the Trafalgar’s cannons launched volley after volley at the Catastrophe. The cannonade persisted, sending back seconds of invaluable real-time data.
-The First Leap
With the exception of Kjerag, every civilization on Terra has been plunged into a dark age on account of Catastrophe. It would not be a stretch to suggest that all civilizations have been shaped by Catastrophe, one way or the other.
In the early days of Catastrophe studies, Catastrophes were seen as simple natural phenomena. As our knowledge and understanding grew, scholars were no longer bound to the archaic idea that Catastrophes were natural and immutable. Eventually, those who sought to understand the nature of Catastrophe turned their attention to
Originium, which always appeared after Catastrophes. As for the nature of Originium, we have already touched on that earlier.
Because of the damage that Originium-induced Catastrophes can inflict, some have attempted to trace the origins of Catastrophe by tracing the origins of Originium. One experiment involved reproducing mini-Catastrophes in a laboratory setting, using various powdered minerals from iron to Originium. Having triggered an explosion, Originium appeared to be the most unusual of the materials tested, but the experiment was unable to determine whether Originium was the fundamental source of Catastrophe.
It was not until the famous 'Cannonade on Catastrophe' Experiment that real progress was made towards uncovering the process of Catastrophe formation, and a most plausible theory was put forward: Catastrophes are caused by the accumulation of Originium particles in nature. The energy released during the agglomeration of Originium catalyzes natural phenomena, magnifying them into destructive Catastrophes.
Further analysis indicates that agglomerated active Originium particles can cause
Scattered Catastrophe occurrences are expected in Kazimierz in July. The chance of outbreaks greater than Magnitude 3 is very low. As warm and humid air from the south moves north, Kawalerielki could be indirectly affected by Originium-intensified natural disasters, particularly in the southern barrenlands.
While June was slightly warmer than the historical average, temperatures are expected to rise further in July. Originium levels are expected to fall slightly, based on historical patterns. June data from monitoring stations on the city's outer ring indicates that Originium levels in the Kawalerielki countryside are relatively low, but there remains the possibility of small, short, and localized Catastrophes in July.
Note: This forecast was jointly published by the General Chamber of Messengers of Kawalerielki and copied to the Adeptus Sprawiedliwi Kazimierz to facilitate tournament organization.
powerful electrical discharge in the air. The Originium shards formed will grow rapidly in size into massive crystal clusters. Abnormal phenomena manifest in Catastrophes in various ways, but one notable constant is their catalyzing effect on Originium crystals inside the Infected, causing their condition to deteriorate rapidly, something not seen in normal natural disasters. In addition, the rise of industry has greatly increased the circulation of Originium particles in nature. Increasingly frequent Catastrophes seem to point to a correlation between industrial development and Catastrophe frequency. Until we fully understand the principle, however, any conclusion remains premature. There is still a long way to go until we fully unveil the truth of Catastrophe.
For modern Terrans, the fight against Catastrophes is rarely as dramatic as depicted in the two accounts above. As we learned more about Catastrophes, we began to realize that they are, in fact, everywhere, all around us. Most of the time, Originium releases energy in milder ways, resulting in “Catastrophes” that are much weaker and smaller, to the extent that they are actually impossible to observe with the naked eye. Strategically important regions, such as Columbia’s special administrative regions and Kawalerielki when linked as the Grand Knight Territory, are more invested in monitoring Catastrophe movement than other areas. In these places, the ancient profession of Catastrophe Messenger has become more specialized under increased division of labor. At these key locations, Catastrophe Messengers deliver data from the areas under their watch to data analysts, forming a comprehensive early-warning system. The most experienced Catastrophe Messengers transition into supervisory roles, dedicating more time to coordinating collective efforts. These teams developed formal measurements for Catastrophes, including intensity and scale, in the course of their work, which are being adapted and unified across ever more regions. Although Catastrophe observation teams remain a relative rarity on Terra, they are subtly but surely changing the discussion around Catastrophes.
A Catastrophe Messenger observing a Catastrophe cloud in formation. Illustrated by Messenger Gerald in the barrenlands to the west of Victoria.
To a certain extent, our civilization has been shaped by Catastrophe. While Catastrophes continue to influence our understanding of this land, we no longer live in fear and ignorance of them. I believe the day will come when tragedies like Flavia are truly a thing of the past, when we learn to achieve balance and harmony with the environment around us.
EPIGRAPH
Put on your hat, tie your leg wraps, wear your gloves, and cover as much of your exposed skin as possible, even your neck. Then, fill your bag with equipment, food, and survival tools. Finally, grab a hiking pole if possible. Now, look in the mirror, and you’ll see a quintessential Catastrophe Messenger staring back at you.
-True Story: A Closer Look at the Messengers
It is not unusual to encounter travelers crossing the barrenlands on foot.
The barrens are filled with danger, and not a place to stay for any longer than absolutely necessary. At any moment, one could encounter rocks falling from the sky, or Originium shards protruding from the earth. Those who walk the barrenlands do so swiftly, with heavy steps. But there are a few who seem to take their journey at a leisurely pace, stopping frequently to tap at peculiar rocks with a hammer or observe the readings on their Originium meters. At times, they stray from the well-traveled path, venturing into more remote and dangerous areas.
The only people who do so are scholars like myself, collecting data on the way to visit settlements in the barrens, and Catastrophe Messengers. Despite having the word “Messenger” in their title, their main responsibility is not delivering letters— though many take it up as a side job. Their main duty is observing and assessing Catastrophes, and providing early warnings. Yet Catastrophes come in many forms, and observation by the naked eye alone is not enough to decipher the unpredictable Terran weather. Fluctuation in environmental parameters associated with Originium prior to the occurrence of a Catastrophe is one of the few patterns that has been found to reliably predict them. As Catastrophes come in many shapes and sizes, however, such fluctuations often occur within a very small range. As such, Catastrophe- phe Messengers have to measure the land with their feet, capturing changes in the environment, little by little.
Catastrophe Messengers are most often seen in the barrenlands near nomadic cities and other settlements, in the employ of local governments and other organizations. After all, it is the people and their homes that need to be protected most of the time; there is very little reason to devote one's efforts to protecting an uninhabited area.
Catastrophe Messengers had been active long before the advent of the first nomadic city. Even before the concept of "occupations", those who performed the functions of a Catastrophe Messenger, providing warnings to those in power, had been an indispensable part of any Terran civilization.
Archaeological research suggests that our predecessors—whether noble or peasant, Elder, Ancient, or Sarkaz—were compelled to remain perpetually mobile to evade the devastation from Catastrophes. After centuries of nomadic migration, ancient civilizations discovered the basics patterns of Catastrophes, and appointed the task of tracking and observing Catastrophes to those with the most aptitude for doing so, the precursors of modern Catastrophe Messengers.
In time, the profession of Catastrophe Messenger gradually became one distinct from all others, and an indispensable prerequisite for modern Terran civilization.
Without Catastrophe Messengers, it would be impossible to determine the right places to build a nomadic city, or for nomadic cities to navigate safely. From the Lords Ameer of Sargon's jungles, to the Kurfürsten of Leithanien in their lofty spires, the powerful continue to rely on Catastrophe Messengers to guide their paths.
As the means to observe Catastrophes evolved with the times, the social status of Catastrophe Messengers also evolved from priest and court advisor, to a profession accessible to the common citizen. Today, becoming a Catastrophe Messenger is no longer about talent and ancient knowledge passed down verbally, but systematic training and education, the result of government and corporate investment.
I have shared many a campfire with Catastrophe Messengers. They are some of the kindest, friendliest, and most talkative people you can meet in the barrens, a place normally known for its dangers and roaming criminals.
On the wastelands, Catastrophe Messengers are widely respected for braving danger and enduring hardship to ensure the safety of all. They are also savants of the rules of the barrens. As such, there are few who would knowingly harm them.
Many of them are happy to talk about their work, or even show me their equipment.
Most Catastrophe Messengers carry a thick notebook containing their Catastrophe observation data for quickly referencing occurrence patterns. A key part of their work is recording any potential fluctuations in environmental parameters. They also observe natural phenomena and use Originium Arts to detect any unusual responses. They diligently perform their rounds, day after day, comparing data collected from different locations, and observing changes on the
The sheer destructive powers of Catastrophes make their study a taboo, giving Catastrophe Messengers an air of mystery. In legends and stories, Catastrophe Messengers are often depicted as bringers of ill news, the harbingers of curses and misfortune.
An ancient Sargonian fable serves as an interesting example. A black-clad Liberi Catastrophe Messenger warned a Padishah that a Catastrophe was coming. The Padishah had just migrated from elsewhere and did not want to believe that the same thing would befall him again. He threw the Catastrophe Messenger out in anger, against the advice of his ministers. Three days later, a Catastrophe descended from the skies, leveling the Padishah's palace.
The job of a Catastrophe Messenger has been an important one over the course of history, and many regions have their own ancient traditions and rituals, passed down through the generations. In some regions of Victoria, a prospective Catastrophe Messenger must take the following oath:
...I vow to speak only the truth, commit no evil, and uphold my duties with unwavering integrity, for every Catastrophe that may cross my path. I swear that predicting Catastrophes shall be my foremost and sole duty, no matter the circumstance. I shall speak with honesty and candor, regardless of pressure, hindrance, or threat.
horizons and in the clouds. A Catastrophe Messenger's job is hardly as laid-back and idyllic as popular conception would have one believe.
Testing equipment and observational tools take up most of the space in a Catastrophe Messenger's backpack. They also bring a variety of documentation, from personal identification documents to access permits for restricted areas, in order to enter the many Originium growth zones that are cordoned off to the ordinary person.
Catastrophe Messengers also carry communications equipment. When they determine that a large-scale Catastrophe is likely to occur, they use this equipment to contact nearby settlements and nomadic cities to inform them of the Catastrophe's type, estimated time of formation, affected areas, and other important information, in order to facilitate an evacuation. Of particular note is how Columbian Catastrophe Messengers issue their warnings. When they discover a brewing Catastrophe, they hasten to nearby settlements, firing a special flare into the air from a place visible to as many of the inhabitants as possible.
There are differences between Catastrophe Messengers in different regions, of course.
For one, they are known by many different names. In Ursus, they were once known as the "Night Watchers of the Empire"; in Minos, "Heralds of Omen"; and in Gaul, the "Shields of Civilization". Their roles and responsibilities also vary. Columbian Catastrophe Messengers are generally under the employment of tech firms. Equipped with superior instruments and transportation, they are also tasked with research, in addition to their responsibility for observing Catastrophes. In other countries, Catastrophe Messengers continue to be selected, trained and employed by the government.
In certain technologically-advanced regions, the role of the Catastrophe Messenger is further specialized; they are only responsible for collecting data in the field, with further analysis being the domain of specific promising laboratories. As Originium industry continues to progress, and the extraction and utilization of Originium resources become increasingly prevalent, greater demands are also being placed on early Catastrophe warning. As such, Catastrophe Messenger is becoming an increasingly specialized profession. Many Originium disaster researchers have chosen this path, combining Catastrophe warning with field research, and bringing advanced equipment and methodology from the lab to the barrenlands. In less-developed areas, however, Catastrophe Messengers remains a comprehensive role of observation, analysis, and warning.
Catastrophe Messengers may be civilization's first line of defense, but they are not the prophets some myths claim. Though they are bound by a professional code, Catastrophe Messengers can still make mistakes and may even intentionally commit crimes. The former is understandable given the many unknowns surrounding Catastrophes; however, the latter is strictly prohibited across all territories. Whether intentional or not, however, any misstep or malice by a Catastrophe Messenger can mean the loss of countless lives, and a tough stain on the entire profession.
The job of a Catastrophe Messenger can be a controversial one, given its difficulty, grave responsibility, and ubiquitous pressure. For their part, Catastrophe Messengers have plenty of complaints about their work to share when they find a willing listener, as I have discovered on more than one occasion. In recent years, Catastrophe Messengers have developed the practice of collective decision-making, in order to share and balance the pressure. International Catastrophe Messenger organizations have also emerged to deal with cross-border, systemic issues, such as the Contingency Contract. However, much work remains to be done.
Perhaps there will come a day when we can predict Catastrophes without requiring individuals to risk their lives, venture into peril, and leave their families behind. However, a quote from a Kazimierzian Catastrophe Messenger might offer a different perspective: "If this job didn't take me to dangerous places, I might not have taken it in the first place." Perhaps, for some of us, it is the thrill that makes it worthwhile.