|Slashing the Earth in Twain|
It arose seemingly overnight. Where once only a gentle slope separated the fertile plateaus of Fencebroke Promontory's farmland from the untamed valleys below, now stood a mighty barrier wall. Towering three bricks tall in places and stretching from one horizon to the other, the looming edifice erupted from the very earth to set in stone the boundaries of natural law. On this side crops would grow; mouths would be fed; civilizations would flourish. On the other: the tribes of chaos.
Though no one could explain its creation, many would try. Tales were spun and carried down through the years, each proclaiming a different motive force, a different mind, a different hand stacking fired red clay to divide the land. All these naught but woven lies, born of fear and ancient distrust.
“Can't you see, the wall was placed to guard our crops from jealous, lowland barbarians. Thank the gods, we will be safe up here amongst the rutabagas, for no siege could ever topple our massive, mortared fortr—eh, what's that? They didn't use any mortar? … Oh. Well, still … no invading force could ever overcome the … uh, massive psychological barrier of our imposing—though admittedly fragile—wall!”
And dissenting lore from the other side:
“Clearly, the gods saw fit, at long last, to halt the marching empire of the produce. Each year, they spread into our territory, taking more and leaving us less. But no longer! This backyard will not belong to the carrots! Thank the gods, the cancerous garden has been forever banished behind this impregnable wall of mortared brick and—oh dear … did that one there just fall over? I see. Well … so long as no one … uh, bumps into the impregnable wall, we should be reasonably safe from the imperial veggies. Could someone put that brick back, please?”
Though neither side could ever truly grasp the motivation of whatever all-powerful force erected the Great Wall in such haste, there was one one matter upon which they agreed: the wall itself was of poor quality. In recognition of this undeniable truth, an accord was reached to the satisfaction of all parties, wherein no roughhousing or shenanigans would be tolerated in the vicinity of the wall—lest the beloved, timeless monolith crumble from the glancing impact of a stray soccer ball or paper airplane.