(no subject)

[lastgunslinger]

Argument

Now do slip the dogs of war, the tale of woe begins
From here the way to Jericho Hill is paved with blood and sin

There are other worlds than these, so we know, stacked on top another in the great dark Tower of existence that rises to eternity. This Tower exists both as the multiverse itself and in a symbolic, physical manifestation within each of the myraid worlds. In our world, for instance, it takes the form of a single rose of perfect beauty and incredible fragility.

In another world--called by some All-world--it takes the form of a Tower, supported by six Beams, rooted in the center of the world in a field of blood-red roses. Here and only here can the Tower be breeched, and its secrets revealed. What lies at the top--be it God Almighty or an empty room--can only be found in All-World.

Once upon a time, All-World was a world of magic. But long ago the world began its slow process of moving on, and the Prim, the great sea of magic, receded, leaving sterile demons and half-human monsters in its wake. For a time, the Great Old Ones replaced magic with science, and for a time this worked, 'til wars nuclear and worse than nuclear scarred the world and the genes of its inhabitants, and civilization and technology both were lost. Both were regained, in lesser form, under the great king Arthur Eld, he of the white horse and unifying sword.

In time, Eld's line became the gunslingers, the governors, soldiers, ambassadors, and defenders of the last civilization; and his empire became the Affiliation of Baronies. The center of the Affiliation was Gilead, and the last king of Gilead was Steven Deschain. His heir was named Roland.

In Roland's youth and before, the process of moving on was getting ever worse. The Beams, which held space and time together, were weakening, and unrest and discord spread. A messianic, apocalyptic cult formed around the man John Farson, but he and his hordes were only the tip of the iceberg that would sink the last great civilization of All-World. By the time Roland Deschain was sixteen, Steven Deschain had been assassinated and Gilead was in flames. What followed was ten years of guerrilla warfare and chaos.

Roland, as the leader of the last class of gunslingers to complete their education, was the leader of the rear guard; eventually, this tiny army of a few hundred men and a handful of gunslingers was all that remained of the Affiliation, and attrition wore them away, until at last, in the southeast by the shore of the Clean Sea, they prepared to make their last stand.

This was the battle of thirteen men--Roland Deschain and Cuthbert Allgood the only gunslingers among them--against two thousand painted vandals. This was where the last hope died. This was the battle of Jericho Hill.

After this, only Roland Deschain remained, of Gilead-that-was. It was then that his long quest for the Dark Tower began.