The Cluster

At a certain point in time and at a certain place once lived a scholar. This scholar took upon himself a task of collecting all that was known about the Phisical World and The Lands Beyond Death, organizing this disarray of data and compiling it into his grand opus.   He had already managed to bring together quite an impressive collection of facts and he sat down so as to start writing his first chapter. He straightened himself up in his seat, rolled up the sleave on his right arm, dipped the tip of his brush in ink and prepared himself for drawing the first line, when he remembered that he knew not, how he would name this array of dimentions, gods and rules, that made up his world. He froze. His heart started racing. He dived into the mound of amassed knowledge and, upon discovering nothing, he consulted his imagination. He was still left empty-handed   Defeated, he put away his brush and made his way to the kitchen. With a steaming bowl of soup in his hands he headed back to his room. On his way, he thought to himself: "How shoulf I name this mess, this chaotic bundle of worlds, places and events? This... this cluster!" He stoped in his tracks. "THE CLUSTER!" he exclaimed and in the process spilled the bowl of boiling soup onto a monk who was sitting, legs crossed, with his back to the wall, before setting off at a run.   He threw himself down before his desk. He didn't take time to straighten his back nor did he roll up his sleeve, but he started moving franticly back and forth across the paper with his brush. Hencforth, their world came to be know as "The Cluster".