Aron: Escape the boring farm... maybe.

Your name is ARON KETTIL.

You have a variety of INTERESTS, most of which are comprised by research of the ANTHROPOLOGICALLY DUBIOUS, centered around the study of BEINGS OF A DEMONIC NATURE.

Your adoptive parents, in FEAR of YOUR PRACTICES, have sent you to spend the rest of the summer with your UNCLE in his SHITTY FARM.

If anyone were to ask you, you would describe the FARM as the MOST BORING PLACE TO EVER BE PLACED ON THE TAUT FABRIC EXISTANCE.

There are only two escapes to your DAY-LONG BOREDOM: the girl who lives in the neighboring farm and the OLD LAPTOP your UNCLE sent to fix before your arrival. The LAPTOP is too big, very heavy and has no BATTERY.

You also like to try and make FIREWORKS sometimes, but you suck at it so bad, they just explode in your face as soon as you light them.

What do you do?

Aron: QUICKLY RETRIEVE ARMS FROM LIFE SIZE MODEL DAEMON'S BLOODY MAW

Aron: QUICKLY RETRIEVE ARMS FROM LIFE SIZE MODEL DAEMON'S BLOODY MAW

Is that what that weird thing is? You thought it was some kind of DIABLO MERCHANDISE.

You calmly walk over to it and rip it's arms off. You CAPTCHALOGUE the DAEMON ARMS in your SYLLADEX. Your SYLLADEX'S workings are dictated by a BOOKMARK MODUS.

You place the ITEM as a BOOKMARK on an abstract BOOK, the BOOKMARK is instantly lost. To find the ITEM again you must find the page that contains the BOOKMARK.

==>

The ARMLESS MODEL looks like some kind of OVERSIZED SALAMANDER now. You hear someone snicker at the back of your mind.

You decide it'll be more comfortable, and less creepy, under your bed.

After shoving the DAEMON under your bed, you walk over to your CHEST. It contains the few PERSONAL EFFECTS you were able to bring with you. Your AXESWORD and your RESEARCH NOTEBOOKS being the most important items inside.

Aron: SPIT LIKE A SALAMANDER AND RIP UP YOUR RESEARCH NOTEBOOKS

Aron: SPIT LIKE A SALAMANDER AND RIP UP YOUR RESEARCH NOTEBOOKS

You're not even going to respond to that.
It's stupid and you know it.

The idiot lets out some cackles. He seems to be enjoying himself today.

Aron: CHECK EMAIL

Aron: CHECK EMAIL

You sit down in front of the BATTERYLESS LAPTOP.

It's a very old model, could be older than you. You can see some scratches on the screen.

Thankfully you convinced your UNCLE to install an internet connection before you arrived. You open your BROWSER, WebDevil, and log into your pesterchum handle while your inbox loads.

Your chumhandle is mythicIchor, and you try to keep your grammar and punctuation in check.

Aron: OPEN EMAIL FROM ADDIE

To: MythicIchor@Hotmail.com
From: SapientComposition@Æthergraph.Com

RE: In Regard to Sburb

Salutations Young Master Kettil,

It has been too long since we have spoken ol' chap, it feels like years have passed. Of course, this is because, while for you only a day has passed, A year has come and gone for me. But I digress. I write to you today to ask if you have perchance heard a rumour on the Æthernet. This rumour has it that the lost last "Difference Engine Game" of "Skaianet Laboratories" has been leaked. I believe you've mentioned before that your dear late brother (may he rest in peace) was involved in it's creation. I suggest you speak with Mistress Maki on this development. Cheerio now!

Honourably Yours,

Madammonsieur Adelheid J. Oberherr

==>

O...kay. So Oberherr has gone mad. Somehow you're not surprised.

You try to make sense of Oberherr's insane ramblings.

==>

Okay...
This thing is just a big pile of nothing.

He wants you to ask Maki. You guess you'll do that, at least to try and get some answers.