The Outlands

Far past the edges of the quartiles, three blocks down from the neighborhood of infinity, the Outlands are rumored to stretch. Those who the Outlands took, the Outlands took forever.

Leaving the Outlands poses a considerable challenge. All the landscapes are filmed in portrait. You can only turn left. The ping times are abysmal, and the sun keeps burning out. Some wonder, licking bitter dew from the leaves of the refutrees for sustenance, but they'll never leave.

Staying in the Outlands is no better. The lice are the size of shoes and the only mixed drinks are rum and coke. As a courtesy to the wayward prisoner, there is the occasional quantity of maple syrup, but only enough to make one's sleeve sticky.

It is unclear who takes people to the Outlands, but the daring few who would posit a guess universally blame the WYZZYIRD or the World Transfer Agency. (These bold souls are not often heard from again.)

Some suggest that the Outlands are an elaborate joke executed by the Order of the Black Ladder. Would that we knew the punchline. Wouldn't that we ever see it firsthand.

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Konrade Krunch