Live From Yrth

I looked out of the window of the tavern, I noticed that there was no glass or screens over the opening. Turning to my companion I say, "I rember the ringworld you ran where my character built a railroad that went all the way around it. Even over the oceans.
The banestorm took us. The damn mages overlooked us and we managed to keep our memories. I even learned to use the magic."

"We've been here for twenty years. We've been hiding what we are. I am sick of it. I am sick of feudal lords and royalty. I am sick of mud roads and outhouses."

"I miss cars. I miss computers. I miss airplanes. I miss guns. I miss cold beer. I miss cola."

My companion smacks a mosquito-like insect, "I miss screens."

"Twenty fucking years is long enough," I continue, "We have more capital than we know what to do with and modern knowledge of how economies work."

I stand and start hitting the table with a fist, "Time to knock over some thrones. Time to start a revolution. Time for big changes."

I look back out over the serfs working the fields across the pitiful excuse for a road, "I will have my railroad."