I. Four Bites

[Zarsies 6795]

 

"ͧ̐͋ͣT̑z̼̹̜̰̈́̽̔ͦȇ̴̦̘̣̅́ͫ̒͗ͩk̂ͦͫ͌̿͏ȧ̘̟̫̱̜̻̿̿̇ͧ̕ĺ̞ľ̷̹̪̟̲͒̚i̬̲̓̈́͂̎̊̐o͂ͧͤ͡n͉͇̯̫̬͕̋̀̾-̺͈͌͌̈͒͊͒̈́yͨả̵̲͍̙͍̺̣̹ͫ̚t̡͔̖̞͍̀́ͭ̎̈h̲̖̳͇͙͂̌ͯ̉̈̚a̸̻̤̜̺͚̣̪͒͐́̎̃̌͋g̠̮͛̈̊ͯĥ̨̤a̺̕l̀̂̾̑e̞͙͙̺ͬͮ͢.̧̘͎ͫ̔͗ͥ̚"̴̣͌̌͋ͥ̋ͅ

 

A drunken stupor. A brain melting high. Vertigo. This was something wild, something surreal, something wrong. Space stretched out before the man yet it was impossible. He knew it was not true as he watched the black plane of licking, fettered veils lash up and about in violent, roiling storms studded by glinting stars in a night sky expanse, umbral arms of galactic nebulae stretching and peeling away from him in an infinite, ever pulling length. Thoughts trickled through his mind, retorts to the strangeness he watched. He did not feel the earth beneath him so he was not laying down in the night. He did not feel himself as he pinched his cheek so he was not awake. It was then he realized something alarming for he could not blink: his eyes were not open or closed. What is happening here?

 

Grotesque, alien limbs sprouted like a flower at the center of the stretching image, eldritch forms of wriggling, weird structures of translucent black and violet melding into cyan and azure haze with metallic sheens. The stars quivered as the budding mass writhed and spiraled like a kaleidoscope of chitinous shell and carapace. A presence approached. He knew this force but something was different. His lips did not tingle, his heart did not beat quicker, his brow did not sweat and his breath did not become shaky yet he could still feel the terror, the dread, and the crippling fear crawl up along the base of his spine and snake up and around the base of his brainstem. The back of his head tickled, numbness lapping against the worming texture of his cranium. He had no lips, no heart, no brow and no lungs yet he knew this spiritual, base, primal shock to clue him into what was happening. An invasion to his thoughts, the foreign mind crept closer. This was fear: blind and panicked with craven screaming setting his mind aflame yet he could not move, he could not close his eyes, and he could not think of anything else. He was frozen in the cold, empty grasp of space yet he was no more than an intangible mind cast into the churning void. This was his rational mind, the integrity left of his mortal self howling for him to run, to flee, to protect himself and prolong his life; self preservation and natural sensibilities roared in his thoughts yet it was too late. She appeared.
 

 

"ͯͯ͝Ḁ̠͖̟ͩͫ̎ͩ͊ͧ͘ ̸̟̭̬̮̦̩͌̓̂q̛͈͉̻̣͓̤̣͆ͣ̄̋͒́̚ṷ̮ī̷̥̜͎̩̲ͪ͒ͭe̬͇ͮť̙͠ͅ ͎͍ͣͥp̷̲ͯͣ́̽̃͐l̷̬̎ͨ̋̆͐a̞͙̫͕̰̻c̨͈̟͙̰ͨ̌ͫͦͤͮȩ͕͍̝̪̟̙͑̽ͥ̍ͣͯ̅ ̧͇̀ͨ͒̊̀̾b̛̘̖̼̳̪̮̊̂ͣ̇̔͊̇e̝̞͑ͬ̉̂͆̆ḫ̢̀̋͐̊ͪ̏i̡̖n̫̻̫̟͎̆ͬ̇̈͗͋d͙̙̖͒ͭ̎͛̿ͫͧ ̙̺̣̪̜ͩͭ͌̿ÿ̸̻̟̪́ͮ͐̇o̲ͅu̞͉͖͔̲̠ͤͮ̔̈ͮ͡r͉̱̹͚̥͎̀́ͬ̽̏ͤͧ ̶̫͆̾̆͋e̦̤̹͇͔͉̖̍̒̉͋͂ͦ̒y̧̲̔́ͫ̋͑̿ḙ̞̻̜̬ͣ̄̑s̵ ̛̘̹͇͛̽ͨ̃ͬ͑̅į͍͎ͫͨ̎̌s̤̟͗̏͌ͥ͟ ̹̞̹̫̭ͯͯ̔̑ͬf̪̲͎̗̰ͣ̓ͣ̂̏̄̄͟i̟͝l̳͆͟l͑͑́͌͏̘͇͓e̠̤͉͓͚ͧ͊ͨ̿͘ͅd̖̭̺͉͗̃̋ͭ̄͋͜ ͆ͯ͗̍̔͌w̸͚͓̞͊ĩ̷̅͂̉̐̄̚t̯̱̟̔ͧ͋͛́̓h̾̃͏̞̬͓͉̺̟͍ ̼͇͉̗s̷̳͍͌ĕ͏̟̰̘̱͚c̸͎̆̇r̊͝e͔͖͎͎͉̲ts̄́̑͆͗͑̚.̞̪̇̀́

̞̯̱̗̠͈̅̔ͫͅ

ͣͥͤͩ̍̌̓͏͕̣͍͇͚̩C̬̥̻̚a̛ͫͧ̒̒̂͆r̖ͧ̏̅͜ͅvͤͯͨͯͣͮ̄ė̼̂͒ͮ͂ͥ̊ ̞̝̫̬̩̞t͕͓ͯͥ̇́͗̍h͔̥̅̂̾ͫȅ͈̺̭͈̲̦̹̏ͫͦͤ̓m̦̘̞̱̣̘̈́͑͒̓ ̴̗̫̘̥̪̙͗̒̊͑o̯̅ͤ͊̚͠u̜͚̮̜̻͑̍̋͛ͣͤ͗t̃̋̍. ̧͓̦̯L̋ͬ̾͜ę͉̱̼̝͎̯͔͐̒͊̎̚å̙̯̹͇̰̖̈̄͂ͅr̺̈́̏̒n̮̳̗͌̓͋͋ͬ̿͛ ̻̦̘̥̱̻͕̈́͐͜t̰͉͖͎͇̦ͦh̠̟̅͑e͔̟̪̦̝̜̝ ̨͚͊ͦt͔̬̰̗͙̜͖͗ͭ͛͂̀ṟ̲̮̮̲̰ͪ̿̍ͩ̾ͥ̐u̙͈͕͍̝͖͔͑̏̽̅̂̋͜t͊͂͊ͥ̔h͖͎̹͚̯͍͑̾͟.̵̣͓̮̗̞̲̓̓"̢̞͚̑ͩ͑

 

Her voice came disembodied and shaking, a thing spoken through an impossibly soft and foul throat of pus and spilt flesh in a gurgle yet it whistled and sang like a harmonic birdcall. Her countenance, a thing of nightmarish quality and great ancientness, something beyond time rife with countless wrinkles and sagging patches of loose skin flicking about in swirling tentacles, grew larger as it spun closer to the view of the man. Her head was colossal, absolutely gargantuan as the scope of her cancerous mass drew near. She was enormous, she was disgusting, she was his love. The terror spilled from him like water out the mouth of a dam, his fear coursing away as nothing but infatuation, allure, and obsession filled his consciousness. He knew only compassion as he gazed upon her, a thing nigh unparalleled in his long, sad life. She was guidance and a paragon of hope. She gave him faith. He could feel his hands feel over his face yet his vision was not obscured; where he ought to find sensitive orbs were empty pits. He already obeyed, he already sought eldritch knowledge, he already found the secrets hidden behind his eyes.

 

A stench of pickled cabbage and bleu cheese became overpowering to the man as a new shape manifested out of the dark. A wretched, biting mass came spiraling out from the lower rungs of what the man had become enchanted by, a lovechild of little more than his occult blood sorcery and the tangible power of the great alien mind. Spewing out from the void of her pus ridden womb spat a writhing shape, hideous and squelching yet it was soundness, nameless, and accursed. Wholesomely abnormal in all regards, an aberration of the Black Rainbow and the Space Between came sprawled out and screaming. Mouths wreathed its tentacled mass and sinewy, rope-like tendons ran across its flesh as though it were a living star, rays of light instead animated tendrils and maddening to look upon -- pickled and green yet too pale and sludgy. An ill omen or a literal birth? Little is easy to comprehend when dealing with the horrors of the beyond yet still he knew to take note. He could not sleep nor has slept in decades and dreams are little more than a mere thing people talk about. Instead, sleepless and immortal, his dreams crept into his reality and led mad fever dreams, playing tricks on him and raising all sorts of questions. His love leveraged his ever half-dreaming mind and thus time became an illusion wherein his life was little more than half reality and half delusion: far too long had he been uncertain for which he lost track of the time he spent like this. Even now in this space limbo he did not know if it were true, if he were simply too far gone. Self doubt had become his dearest friend in the latest centuries and here, now, he was more unsure than ever. ‘Why’ permeated this thoughts endlessly.
 

 

Not a moment passed before a heinous, noxious smog billowed out from the depths of what lingered below and in a sudden, immediately lurch a long, skeletal claw skewered the birth like a fish speared by a curved pike. The finger twisted inside the foul alien, contorting to shape into the long curve of a scythe. Another presence arose from the black below, a black skeleton framed by a static mesh of random textiles and patterns of fabric which coursed into deep, abyssal tones but fluttered back to their patterns, blinking and warping like the shifting reflective surface of a metal. Spiraling out from the lower regions came another familiar entity, an onyx skeleton, bare and bleeding with churning mists.

 

"̂͐̈́ͪ̀̾̏͞S̰͚̠͉̥͂̍͗ͥ͆ͅh̴͚ͭ̐ͨͤ͋ȗ̥̞̫͉͊͋b̭͚͈͔-̷̲ͩͨͣU͎̻̘̼̺̥̲̐̋̈́̊m̙̥̻ͮ̇̏b̢͇͎͓̣̲̪ͯͭͯ̀ͣi͐͒ͦ͛͊l͗͆ͬ̏ͥ̿̐i̜͚̾͊ü̵̻̣̘̖̘̪̊ͯ̿͆͊ͅs͈͈,͇̠̥̞̿̐́ͬ͑ͯ ̲͆ͯ̅̏p͔̜̗ͩ̊ͅl̔͒͗ͨ҉̮̮̦e̩͌̐̀̓a̵͍̤̙̼͓͍̘̎ͩͬ̎s̛͓͑e̞̱̥̙̗̮̰ͭͭ̆̈͊.ͮ.ͧ͛̅̐ͨ̽ͥ҉̦̩̼̠.̛̣͙͒̈ͮ͛ͬͮ̚"̃͂̾̓͟

 

His words fell on the nothingness of the abyss, not silent but not uttered for his lips defeated him and his voice would not raise. His terror grew as it had before as raising through the stars came to rest the robed skeleton before it lowered its scythe and sat upon a dim, dull planet. With a fleshless hand outstretched the scene changed, the man’s eyes torn from the astral field above down towards the undead.
 

 

His cloak billowed in a forceless, dead wind upon the planet’s dull, ashy surface where nothing but the man stirred. With a lift of two now enfleshed fingers, scrawny and emaciated, did physical sensation come to the man yet it was tingly and faint.

 

 

His transformation was subtle yet slow. Bloody marrow spewed out from his vision and dripped down, filling a humanoid shape as bones budded upon the flow like sweat and grew into an ivory skeleton. Muscle and cartilage knitted out of the bones and wove over themselves, layering together patches of meat and tendons with pale tissue as protective covering over the growing mass of orderly gore and undoing pulp. Organs, defunct yet in place, filled his body and lastly his skin slurped out from between the creases of his musculature and he could see his vision warp and twist as his eyes formed in his sockets. A subdued, thrumming voice of immense depth shook the bones of the skeleton, a familiar buzz like the gargling of the abyss. Tongue black as its bones, the titan spoke to the now bodied man with a sour croak. 

 

“̧̹̭ͭͦ͆̈̂ͨG̬̪̹͊͋ͦé̷̤͔̑̇ͣͨr̰͔̞̠̓̈ͦͪͩt̋t̡͙̣̣̐̿ͧ̆ͫ’̝̮̼̇ͪ͢n͉̠̪̼̪̘ͫ̈ͫ͆ḁ͈̗̰̀ȑ̠͉̣͔̿̑̃ͅg̭̈k̬͖ͣͣ̒ͦ̏̀̚y̵̘̠͎̪͗̑͆̅̌o͉͈̠̲̮̼ͣ͋ͅn͏̣̲̱̘i̭̪̖̙̭ ̭̣͍ͦ̍̔̃̌d͋͐̿͋̿҉͉͉͔o̶̫͎̩̊̄̉͐̆̌̑ͅͅ’̤̱̼͕͕̬̆̒͝h̹̜̑͒̓͊͊́â̸̯̠̫̘͗k̙͎͖͎̭̅ͨ̇ͧͧ̎͆͡a̴͍͖̲̰̝̖ͮ̄̇̆v͑̇̽ͫ̃ ͇͚͉̀ͥͪ͑̒n͙͇̖͓̗̺̱͑͐͗͊ͧ̔a͈̜̬̯̎̽ͅr̘̻̠̯̼͉n̶̺͓̱̝͈̒̉ ͕̮̞̯ͣ͠m̫eͭ̓͌͑̊҉̤̪͈͉͍n̖̮̥ͫ͗͋̂ͤ̃͋͠ą̯̳̮̹̼ͪͣ̎ͅ ̡͕̫͓͓̼̰̗ͪͣ̾̋̑̉ť̗̫̙͎̳̠̠̾͛ͮ́z͛҉̜̖̜ö̧͚̒̒ȑ̌ͦ̾ͭr̛̗̫͖͎̹̯͖͑̂̾̋.͍̔̂ͮͧ̚ ̞̭̈́̆͛͘S̝͕͓̠͊̓͑ͤͮ̚͟h̪̣̙̜̬ͯ̌ͣ̍̿͒ȧ̫̪̹̱̗ͥ̀̚e͓̻̭̲̼̩̥̊̽ͪ̔ḵ͖̮̜̫̃̔̑͒͡-̩̠̼͎̼͈̝̊̈̾̈̑̓a̮̦͓̪̻e̤͔̝̘̲̝̔̀ͅm͕ͮͥ̏̉̓̒͒u̮̟̞̠̔ͬ̋̽̋͂͆s̨̫̹̥̠̪͕̑ͤ̓̽̿̈.̭͎̏ͦ͢”̟̗̈

 

[You have been gone for too long. Return to us.]

 

Wreathed in dark, ebon skin the man whispers back to the strangely robed, ghoulish entity which stole him from Shub-Umbilius. “Mthyul Tlan, it is not complete. The Litany has been found but not deciphered.”

 

“̡̓͛̌͛ͣ̆D̰̋ó̴̟̪̘͙ͯ͂’̶̘͙̮̋̄̌͗k̪̐͗͆̾ṷ̭̣̭̥̰ͦ̏̀̒̌̐ͩr̴̮͎̳̰̲ͧä̵̺̲̬̼́ͨ͑̎ͪm̺͉̮̊ͮͦ̈̐̄ͅ ̖̠̥̓ͩ̂̐̂̂ͮz̵̤̠̣̟̳̩̤ͭͪ̈́a̺ͧ͋m̮͕̙ͭ͆̃͐̋ͫ̚a͖̭̯̻̿̽r̈́҉̻̙̝̠̮͈.̤̲̙̲̭ͪ̄̃̍̋̉̚ͅͅ ̹͍̣͈͗̄D͇͔̣̦̼͈ơ̰̝͖͉̯̲̋ͧ’͍̖̪̘͋̿ͪ̿̚b͓̬̹̂ͩ̎̂̐͛i̯̗̤̤͚̦̳̒ͭͯ̀g̭̰̣̠͓͛ͫ͗̒ͪ͆̈ń͔̦̝̬͕̙͓̔̋͆͞ ̢͇̤̜̙̿a̤͈̒͐ͪ͂e̯̗̔ͯ̋ͯ͐̈́m̡̪̦͉͈̖̯͗̌̓ͤ͗͊u̮͎͈͚̜̰̹̽͆͠s̎̑͏͓̙,ͣ͑̐ͮ̎͏͙̙̪̻̦ ͕͕͈̤̘̟̓͑̊̒̈́̚v͙̙̾̄͛̽̄̅̚͢o͚̣̣͙̭͛̅ͅy̘̲͈̟̻̆ͦ͛̅,̮͓̺̬̣̣͇ͥͯ͐͑͋́̌ ̪̤̟̙̻͌̊̎̚u̡̬̥̦̫̠̾̀ͭ͊͆ͯn͉̱̩̳̓̽̒ͭḓ̴̼̪̖̺̳̀e̷̝͈̱̩͚̻̓ͩ̌ȑ͍̰̰͙͇̉͋e͙-̬̰͙s̨̬̻h̰̲̟͇ͨ̆a̱̤͔̾ͣ̆͊̿ͬ͝ͅï̟͙̭̟̥͓̥̆ͫ͡ ̏͋̀̍҉̙̝̥̜n̢ͧ͗̉ͦ͛ź̠̜͖͖̳̥̭̅̓͛̓̓e̞̳̱̟͝l̲̬͇̹̗̭.̢ͤ̓ͣͯ̈́ ̛̗̳̥͍͔̜ͥͫ͒̓̊̋S̴͔̦ͤh̫͇̝͇̬̦ͥ̇ͪ̄̆̂͐ͅa͇̰̜ͮ̆̔ͥ͂̔̚͠e̷ͩ͋̒͌k̨̼̦̭̫ͩ̍͑̚-̭̜̗̰ͣͨ̽ͭ̀a͋̄͒e͉̪̙̤̣͛͑ͅm̷͔̜̙ͦ̒͐̃u̡̺̹̐͂̓̏ͯͯ͊ͅsͣ̀.͕̑͛̓”̝͔͙̱̯̈ͪ̈̾͐

 

[You are weak. You forsook us, weaver, and toil in endless plots. Return to us.]

 

An uneven whimper escaped him, a quip returning, defeated and woesome. “...F-for my lady, Mother Moon.”

 

“͇̺ͧͤJ͊͘h͋ͮ̽ͪ͗ͧͦ͏̞̜̼͈e̠͚͗͊͐ͅl̳̾̐̀ ̜̐ͭ͡ŗ͗̆͊͑̊͊̋e̵̋͛̿̈́ͭͫ̆k̹͓͓̦̯̙̯ͤ̋̆̇ͤ̓s̨̎i̺͙̜̰̚a͍-͈̻̹̮̭̩ͯ̋͋h̬̹̖̠̝̑͛͂̀̉̓͡uͪ͠u̥̩̹̩̬̞̞ͭ̑̾́͜s̸̮̹̠̲̻̙̊ͪ̅̄ͩ̆ͅẗ̸̳͕̜̝̣́͐̐͂̓ͦa̡̞̜̮͇̪͗̐̓̔͛͂͊l̷͉̠͚̙͓̦͆ͅ,̱͚͎͙̄ Ḱ̫̲͈̜̲̾̓̓̚o̻͓͙̞̙͍͡z͕͎̪̳̫͍͓̒̄ͧ̊i̠̯̹̦̾̽̉̂͗͟l̍̈́̽͏̣̣e̶ͮͥ̾k̺̎͒͝.͙̰͉̭͇ͥ͌̀ ̴͔S̷̥͈͚̯̹͍̠̄̇͑̽H̡̟̖̅͋̑ͦ̂̆̊ͅA͕̣̮̓͢Ẽ̖ͫ͒K̗̟̲͕-͋ͫͮͬ͏͙̜A̺̞̝͙͆̊̑̕Ẹ͕͛͋̊̊̆͘M̖̦͈ͫ̚Ȗ̎ͯ̔ͨ͐ͪS̤͔̱̓̏ͮͬ̽̽!̟̩͓͍̟”͈̹̤̣͌͐

 

[******* *****-****, Kozilek. RETURN TO US!”]

 

The man felt a tug deep in his heart, a nascent glow of cerulean and slimy green gleaming from inside his throat. He retched and heaved as he was suddenly overcome with crippling, toe-curling nausea and he vomited a torrent of congealed, gooey blobs of thick, viscous fluid which splattered upon the soot and ash of the planet surface. In a prolonged hurl the gel shot out of him and whirled up, mixing idly to form into a humanoid figure. Silhouetted by dripping water and bearing a nautical aesthetic of blues and waterlogged meat came an old self, a dead self. The figure let out a haunting, empty and backwards laugh more akin to a splashing geyser and the scraping of seashells against carapace than any mortal chuckle. The naked man lifted a finger to his lips carefully, eyes wide as he stared into the eyeless, possessive foe of his former self.

 

“̨́͜U͢l̸̀d͢͢r̕̕i̸v͟t̸,͡͡”͏ Mthyul Tlan gurgled, its skull splitting in twain as its head shifted to turn and face the new ectoplasmic form. “̷͡K͠o҉͢z̸͞i̡͠͞l̷̨ek,̷̕͠”͢͞ it called to the newly formed man, similar to the dark elf in little more than frame and facial structure, not including what flesh was soggy and rotten and what bones were eaten away by starfish and barnacles. Lastly it lifted its head skyward where the frightful elder thing loomed overhead, Shub-Umbilius spawning a nigh illusionary copy as a third man upon the scene, however this man was less man than any of those present and more cosmos. The stretching fabric of space melted down and collided to shape into an emaciated, anemic creature with a featureless face and boney structure yet it was skinned by a solid coating of nebulae, stars, starlight, asteroid belts, and the overpowering, blinding darkness of space. Almost invisible against the sky, the concentrated galactic creature descended and floated down to the skeleton, the phantom, and the elf. The trio formed as the colossal skeleton stood, scythe hung low as it rumbled, “̷̡͢D͡͠o͞͝vi͏ç̕͢ư͠l̸͠u̧s̢.͘͠͝”͟

 

“...I’m not dead, am I?” asked Uldrivt, legs crossing where he sat upon the ash to which Kozilek and Doviculus released inhuman, hideous cackles and choking laughs, one crackled and splashing while the other was metallic and harping. Uldrivt nodded as he drew quiet, gaze cast into the churning void above. “Why am I here?” he asks in turn.

 

“Your humanity,” the two warbled back in unison, their voices a painful cacophony. Uldrivt nodded, he knew what this entailed and knew the details of this fate. This was his second loss, self deserved, but a cruel thing nonetheless. Not all things are meant to live, he knew, and least of all forever. He was immortal once, then twice, now thrice, and he must pay. He lifted his horrifically scarred hand and dug his fingers into the center of his abdomen where his ribs fused; his spindly fingers pierced his skin as though parting through cold butter, slowly forcing his fist into his body with a cringe and a pant. Tears quickly wet his eyes and streak down his face as his breathing became heavily labored and panicked, his tongue turning numb as all he could feel were his breaths. His arm continued on despite his stupor, worming deep up into his chest cavity to take hold of something dear to him. A moment later, whimpering and weeping, he tore out his heart and presented it to the two, arm limp and still-beating crux rolling out onto the ash. It was a usual thing albeit a minor hunk had been taken from it, roughly a seventh. Kozilek extended an ethereal hand and floated the heart near, bared teeth of his gumless mouth opening wide as he took another bite from the heart of equal size to the missing part, savoring ever chew as he shuddered and handed it off to the space-anorexic. Doviculus took the struggling heart, blood seeping from each of its valves and ducts as he pinched off another parcial and flicked the heart-chunk into her featureless maw of galaxy arms and nebula spirals, the organ tissue dissolving as if in acid. Doviculus dove down and slithered towards the shrieking, crying, rattling Uldrivt whereupon he shoved the heart back into his chest, three bites taken, now just over half of it left. 

The shifting, splintered, splitting sable skeleton shook, saying,

 

"̱͓͓͚ͬͧ̏ͣ̿͊̐C̝̄̅ͨ̽ͥ̔́ú̯͙̦̹̲͖ͦ͡l͍͚̰͔̹̳̪̔ͮ̄̑ͥ̑͒ ͚̳̳̪̙̪̙̈́ͫ͒̕ẑ͉͙͕ͮ͊͑̊̑̅p̰̳̠ͪ̿ͣͫ̾͋͠ẻ̳͇͆ͩ́̃k͖̼̘a̴ͯ̊̅̌̀̇r̐̇.̅̑ͭ"̘͙̼͇

 

[Four bites.]
 

Just a dumb lil post. I was bored and wanted to write; Cosi got gassed so he's gettin chunks taken out again.

[Swgrclan 2682]

A moment spent peering beyond the glass murals that decorate the interior of the Temple of Xion beckoned memory of one whom he once called 'brother'; brother first, pupil second. Even came the day when his tutelage was abandoned so that notions of arcane ascension could be chased, the first role remained staunchly recognized, if not touched by bitter emotion. But many days have passed since the First Judge has seen his brother of the mind, not body -- something that has bidden the rare root of fleeting concern to take hold, far in the back of Abdiel Ipos' mind.

"Her plagues come all at once as we watch her burn. She's a dwelling place for the Old Dark; a cage for every unclean spirit; every filthy bird."

[Vaynth 3005]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.