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On the western-most reaches of Thule, the Kingdom of Mzeusia went to work under the early morning sun. In the groves, men and women picked fruits from the trees, and in the fields, the crops were growing steadily, promising a plentiful harvest when the time came. In the sky, birds sang overhead, and a group of men wrestled on a flat piece of land on the outskirts of a small village.

All over Mzeusia, men and women were waking up to the sun and getting on with their days. Over the southern most stretch of coast, a large rainbow could be seen reaching through the clouds in a mighty arch. Morning prayers commenced throughout the kingdom, and the forests of the dead that bordered all settlements, teemed with life.

Some Mzeusians were already looking out to sea. A man was standing by the coast with a stall, selling a selection of cakes and sweetbreads, while another man was showing off statuettes of various gods. A child ran up to the man with the cakes, and coins exchanged hands. The child ran back to her grandfather with a grin, and the grandfather nodded and smiled at the cake-seller in way of a greeting. A little ways along, a cluster of fishermen arrived at the shoreline. They chatted merrily as they set up their equipment, boasting about their latest catches and how good their rods were.

From his temple the King looked down at the capital city of Mzikos with pride. The country was doing well, and the warship he had sent out to find new lands would be coming back any day now. He decided that a walk around the herbal gardens would put his almost perpetual anxiety to rest. Stepping out from between two columns, he descended the two steps from the temple. The sky was a brilliantly clear blue, with a scattering of clouds here and there. The King turned, sandals slapping the stone pathway. Soon, he could smell the mixture of heady scents which the herb garden emitted. This brought a smile to his face, and when he reached the small garden, he sat for a moment on a bench.

Somewhere a few miles off the Mzeusian coast:
The Mzeusian rowers had guided the ship outward until they had caught a more favourable wind. The warship mission to find an island and inhabit it was an important one if Akses, God of the sea was to be appeased, and as the ship travelled further across the waves, the men on board took of a cry of "Land!" The faint outline of land had been spotted on the horizon, and the men made their way towards it.