I am the final judge, I am judgement itself. I weigh the soul against truth, I decide your faith to my liking. -Anpuwheredjet

Rosewhich, a quiet town I really started to enjoy. No heavy traffic, only a few ten-thousand inhabitants and a rather Victorian looking, colonial building style. A few years ago, after my boss kicked me out and my beloved wife passed away; I decided to settle myself in Rosewhich. At first I was a true outsider, used to the busy city life and twenty four hour life, but before I knew it; I managed to fit in.

National happenings do not really bother this town, at least the local radio station nearly mentions national or international news. It is like Rosewhich is not part of this country, but a small country on it’s own. That is how this fine morning started, I turned on the radio, listening to the news while staring outside. Beyond my with bright red and yellow decorated window life slowly began, people headed towards their work, from their still mostly wooden homes. Twenty years ago a great fire almost destroyed half the town, yet the people keep their traditions of living in wooden housing. As some people went to work, the children and wives went to church, a tall double towered building standing at least ninety metres and rising above the entire town. It is a very decorated building, large stained glass windows, engravings of religious animals; creatures and roses.

The high priest calls himself ‘High priest of Wheredjet’, which I was told means something in the ancient language of this area, but I tend to forget unimportant things like that. I myself am not a church visitor, religion does not interest me nor does it concern me at all. These people however, wear their silver ankh like crosses every single day, proudly and highly visible. These symbols also appear on the church building, they are cross like, but with half a loop upon the horizontal bar of the cross. Talking about religion of the ’outside world’ seems to be frowned upon here, yet this also appears to be the other way round. When I visited the neighbouring town of Harmouth the other day, I was approached by a local bar customer, asking me where I lived. I was stared at with awe and disgust, as if I was a heathen in their midst. Little did I understand about these issues, until the town drunk approached me and explained it in detail. While constantly shifting his eyes from left to right he told me the stories and history of this town, along with the reason of hatred towards Rosewhich.