Dear Mr Curly, I have done little travelling lately because I have been so dreadfully weary. Can it be true as the old Ecclesiastes said; that all things lead to weariness? Surely not. Perhaps the opposite is true: that all nothings lead to weariness. I have a peculiar feeling, Curly, that I am worn out from something I haven't yet done and the more I don't do it, the more exhausted I become. How strange. Could it be something I haven't realised? Perhaps it's something I haven't said? Something I haven't finished! It must be very large and true whatever it is and a lively struggle in the doing but I look forward to it immensely. I know I need it. First, however, I must curl up in my chair and sleep deeply with the duck. Perhaps I'll dream of this thing and wake up refreshed and do it. My fond wishes to you Mr. Curly, and to all Curly Flat. Yours sleepily, Vasco Pyjama xxx P.S. Not having breakfast can make you weary. That's for sure!
And now the author suddenly realises that he might have made his new character sound a bit too much like Chiral Phi but doesn't want to spoil its role by making a character sheet that truly demonstrates their fundamental differences.
Edit: Woah, Vec, did you read that post like a machine or are you just trying to get into my pants? Not even five minutes it's up and you click the like button.
The villa burned. Hain screamed as the berserk hain Gaash and his fraternity of monstrous brothers raged and rampaged. Everyone they saw had their skull shells cracked by mace and stony fist. Blood, pain, and death soaked the world, covering the worse depravities.
Goading them from the centre was a hain looking cooly on beside them. They didn't care that he looked nothing like any sculptor they had seen. Gaash barely had the sense left to question his survival of the Blinding Purge those years ago. But that hain had helped him with magical fruits and insidious advice.
That demonic hain was the one who pointed with a dripping claw at where the most pain could be inflicted. He advised how the mind could be destroyed. The most succulent revenge was directed by his expertise.
Although, he never raised his palms. He never lifted his beak. He was not angry or laughing with glee. He looked at the hung corpses and the running organs like a banal routine.
The grey stones of the villa were dipped in red by the time they found Reesa herself.
The demon looked on. Gaash breathed rage through his teeth.
Reesa was in a spattered green dress. Her beautiful smooth shell was blemished by the tear-rimmed red of her eyes. She hung her mouth open, breathing only as shallowly as she could as Gaash's brothers raged with maces at the others still halfway between life and death.
"Reesa," Gaash whined. There might have been regret. Or just desperation. "I have wanted nothing more than to be with you. I will do anything for you. See how much I have done for you already, to be with you."
Reesa's teeth chattered. A tremoring hand lifted to her beak. She barely whispered. "You killed them."
"Now they will not come between us," Gaash said, lifting his free palm up. "Now you can be honest, instead of having them speak for you. I noticed how you looked at me at the last harvest festival. I know your feelings to be true."
Gaash stepped forward and extended a hand. Reesa stepped back.
"No, Gaash!" Reesa shrieked. "I liked you." She wheezed a breath in. "I thought it was unfair that my family didn't let me see you! But now I see why..."
Gaash slowly closed his extended palm.
She scrunched her eyes and screamed out in as much pain as her expired clan. "You are a monster!" She screamed out the last word until she had no more breath in her lungs. "You KILLED THEM ALL!"
Gaash looked to the demon hain. The demon hain looked back. He made a small, almost meaningless gesture.
Reesa dropped to her knees and sobbed. Her loud crying echoed with the other tortures. "YOU KILLED THEM ALL!"
Gaash saw the demon hain's gesture and remembered what he had said. He looked to Reesa, bawling in the puddle of her family's blood. He stepped up to her, dropping his mace with a red splash. He grabbed her roughly by her arms.
She was lying, like her meddling family.
The following hour was enough to break the minds of those with a scrap of emotion. Reesa was violated to a similar state as her sisters, before being ground by Gaash's passionate fists until her beauty was destroyed and subsumed by the red of her insides.
The demon felt a small twinge. He watched on. His red eyes turned in disappointment.
Naturally, Gaash blamed the demon. That announced the final chapter as all turned on him.
The looks in the brothers' eyes only gave the demon a dull twinge, too, when they realised their mistake. The demon took them all. He subjected Gaash and his brothers to all the tortures they had inflicted. Their pain and suffering may have been worse, seeing as they were taught all the things they were now being subjected to. They expired with as much fear as their victims.
The demon sighed. He walked out of the burning villa dripping blood.
A trail of red dapples trailed to the tree on the hill. Here, some careful words to a frustrated man sparked the entire story.
The story which was now complete.
The demon sat. He wrapped his cloak around his grotesque form and settled in for his least favourite part of the story; the epilogue.
There were no characters left but him. All the excitement was over. He sat and didn't breathe much.
Nor moved. In the past, he would weep that the fun was finished. Nowadays he just sat and stared at the orange glowing on the plume of smoke he left behind.
He stared. He waited for the emotions that would not come. His mind seemed a black void now. Silent. Idle. He was not tired. He didn't feel like moving.
So this is how long it takes.
Ruminating thoughts didn't usually come up in the epilogue. This might be new and exciting.
How long it takes for what?
It was better than the idle abyss.
To get bored.
I think not. I shall just try something more.
More wanton pain and suffering.
More temptation.
Greater tests.
There is much work to be done with the Adversary so silent.
What, is this about duty now?
No, pleasure. As always. Appreciation for being alive.
There was a chortle. What pleasure, you pitiful creature?
The demon hain jolted up to his feet at the base of the tree.
Master?
No, it couldn't have been. It was too crisp. Too cutting.
Not quite him, blossom. But! Blessed you are to target this place. Your presence in this part of the world is more an opportunity than a nuisance, as it happens, Cherry Eater. Welcome to South Yorum.
"Who are you?" Ch'eater asked to cover his shock with curiosity. "And how do you know my name?"
I am the only friend you have left, darling. Friends know each other's names. I might not be as old as you, but I have known you for long enough to be a friend. Call me 'Friend' for now.
Ch'eater liked to think he knew of the gods of Galbar. This did not sound like any of them in tone or wording. He splayed his claws in and out, ready to pounce at the patronising being.
So, do not be rude, my dear. You did not answer my question, did you?
"I'm more curious as to why you want to know it. What drew you here?"
A high, shrill cackle echoed in Ch'eater's skull. He clutched his horns in a pain he had not experienced since his adoption by the Adversary. The pain faded when the voice of 'Friend' continued.
Always the twister of minds. Allow me to speculate your answer, then? Is it that you do not wish to answer me for fear of the answer itself?
No amount of concentration could expel or control this 'Friend.' He tried a different approach. "I did not know that I had such a fanatic. I am flattered."
Oh, you are too kind, honeycomb! Another question, then. Did you enjoy tonight?
Now Ch'eater paused. He blinked slowly. "I did. But I am more interested in-"
Is that the truth? You seemed so distant. So...disappointed. And it was quite the bloodbath. Quite the...punishment. Mmm, very creative, what you did.
'Friend' was deflecting him handily. "I would think you already know that. You know so much about me already."
Hmhm. Well, doesn't that have implications, hmm?
"I am afraid I do not follow your point. Share yourself, so we can be equals."
You do not follow? Oh, it is nothing much, do not worry yourself, 'Friend' said sarcastically. It sighed into its next words. I just wonder sometimes. I wonder the reasons that you continue.
"It is a concept that can only be experienced to be known. I do what I do for the Adversary. I am his Sinon-"
The voice snorted.
"...I am the Horned Hain. Mammon is my patron."
I hate to test you further, little gum nut, but your Mammon has not even defended his own holdings. His submaterium is infested with Jvanic entities and nought but the odd demon has been seen to mark his presence for ages now.
Ch'eater held his breath.
'Friend' sounded like it was speaking through a pout. Mnaw, my adorable manipulator, sorry. I know he has not spoken to you in some time. How long has it been? How many years?
"I..." Ch'eater closed his eyes. "I lost count. I need you to help me-"
The cackle resumed even louder than before. Ch'eater grunted as its reverberation wracked his mind.
You do not care about Mammon, do you? You hate him! You always resented him. The last throes of 'Friend's' laughter bubbled up. Admit it, you silly little sadist.
"Please!" He said with red eyes quivering. "Stop...Laughing. You're hurting me."
I shall try my best, but you are just too amusing, hmhmhmm. 'Friend' breathed in deeply through an unseen nose. So...I suppose your purpose is coming to an end, isn't it?
"...What?"
'Friend' spoke as a matter of fact. Well, you have no duty, no legacy, no family, no base instincts to pander to, and not to mention little left in the way of fulfilment. A few more years of depravity and drama and you're as good as an ashling -- a mindless husk blindly thrashing about the earth.
Ch'eater clenched his jaw.
That's right. Only the void will be left.
He would not be scared. He could not allow himself to be defeated.
And the only way to escape that fate, well...the wraithstone has been waiting for you for some time now.
No answer.
You have no escape, it seems. No hain left in you to trade away for another chance. You have nothing left to give.
The void gaped wider in Ch'eater's mind.
'Friend' teasingly sped up. One more question, my cute little chestnut. This one is easy -- you've answered it before. What would you give to stay alive?
Ch'eater clenched his entire body in determination. He spoke with a flat honesty so disused it felt foreign. "Anything. Make the void go away. Just let me live."
He felt a broad smile from the unseen 'Friend.' A dreadful smile. But you have nothing left to give.
"Then why do you even ask?" He responded in a low, seething voice.
Because I do not want you to give, my sweet. I want you to take.
"Anything."
Can you take an Oath?
I smashed this out in a fit of inspiration. It may not come further into play until much later. But for now it's a little supplement to the Yorum storyline.
We have a short scene where a demonic hain has manipulated another hain called Gaash and his brothers into a massacre and rage against a clan in a villa. They are torturing, maiming, and otherwise doing unpleasant things to the occupants.
Gaash's rampage pauses when they reach his crush, Reesa. This beautiful young hain woman was cloistered away by her family and Gaash has come to retrieve her, because she gave him the eyes once or twice.
Reesa says that she used to be interested in Gaash, but killing her entire family was kinda a turnoff. She is understandably upset.
Gaash thinks she is lying in his alchemy-induced rage and does horrible things to Reesa as well.
Once Gaash realises what he has done, he turns on the demonic hain that had been advising them all this time.
The demon ends up subjecting Gaash and his brothers to all the tortures they inflicted on Reesa's family in an unpleasant turn of fate. The demon seems rather bored.
Leaving the burning villa behind, the demon reflects on the depression that he has been feeling as of late.
The demon hain's ruminating thoughts unexpectedly talk back at him in another voice. He is surprised.
The voice, a patronising presence calling itself 'Friend' reveals that the demon is the long-lost favoured hero of Mammon Ch'eater. It also reveals that the entire scene took part in the southern end of the Yorum region.
It then proceeds to dodge every attempt by Mammon to manipulate it and gaslights the living crap out of the poor demon hain.
After sufficiently filling Ch'eater with existential dread following his surprising lack of enjoyment of the crazy test he put Gaash through, 'Friend' falls back on Ch'eater's original insecurity: Mortality.
Ch'eater repeats his plead to Mammon. He just wants to live another day.
"I have a pair of them still," Janius said. He unfastened two small leather skins and held them out. He needed to remain with Leaps for a little while yet. "Could someone...?" He stopped and winced as he tried to put weight on his wounded leg.
Fendros stepped up and passed the potions to Meesei.
Sabine did what she could to stem some of the bleeding in Kaleeth's head. It was not like a flesh wound where she could coagulate the blood, for a clot in the brain was worse than a concussion. However, with intense concentration, she could help the worst of it before the required sustained treatment. She remained still and with her eyes closed for as long as she needed to. The intense focus required helped to calm her somewhat.
Fendros spoke with a firmness that likely stemmed from his high alertness after such an incident. "So, what happened to everyone after the explosion? I do not think the mage fighting me knew of my birthsign, which saved my life, I have no doubt. I could not see anyone else most of the time, however."
If Lorag's stubbornness didn't turn Sabine, Kaleeth's state did.
"Sabine!" Janius called out. Sabine responded and dropped to her knees next to Kaleeth. Janius peered back to Kaleeth and continued with no small amount of worry. "The one with the hammer hit her hard. She took the blow to her helmet."
Though she was still shivering, Sabine put her hands on either side of Kaleeth's head and closed her eyes to diagnose her. Janius pulled back to give her space. When Leaps lumbered over and laid down beside them, his state prompted Sabine to open her eyes. A second of trying to concentrate on two patients at once made her trip over her words. "Uhm...Janius! Help Leaps. Keep him warm. Stop the bleeding."
Janius was no expert healer but he could do that much. He stood and hurriedly saw to Leaps' wounds. "There, there," he said to try and sooth the wamasu while he worked. "They got you, too, didn't they? Stay still."
Sabine had to concentrate hard. The brain was delicate and complicated. She had to make sure there was no bleeding or severe damage.
With barely a whisper spoken, Fendros took Ahnasha's arm over his shoulders and helped her to gather with the others. A quick word with her confirmed that she was not hurt worse than surface wounds, but there was no question that they were all shaken. Once Fendros and Ahnasha stopped, Fendros addressed Lorag and Meesei. "We got lucky," he said gravely. "They could have killed us. They got close." He spoke more clearly. "Are we honestly in a state to continue our mission right now? I would suggest that we go back to the clan and get attention from healers."
There was no time to despair at their enemies escaping. Everyone in the pack kept fighting while being harried by the ponderous wisps. Enough strikes with magic or weapons shattered what corporeality they had. One by one, they broke and faded.
Janius struck down the last near him with a swing of his axe. A quick-breathed look around him confirmed immediate safety. Enough to painfully kneel down and remove Kaleeth's helmet where she laid. "Stay awake, love. Stay awake," he said frantically. Cupping the back of her head with his hand, he withdrew a skin with a healing potion to offer to her mouth.
Fendros stomped up to regroup with a new arrow nocked in his bow, held low in his hands and ready to raise against any leftover wisps. "Is anyone hurt?" he demanded.
Remembering herself, Sabine looked down at her body. She had flecks of dirt all over her from explosive spells. She didn't feel any pain. She came out surprisingly unscathed. "I am unhurt. I think, I..." Sabine's hands showed a shudder. Whatever she had to say trailed off as she brought her hand to her mouth, holding her breath. She was pale. After a few moments of standing still, she doubled over and let out a tiny wretch. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.
"Sabine," Fendros said softly. "Please heal the others."
She opened her eyes and straightened. "Okay," she mumbled through her hand. Her legs quivered as she walked over to the nearest injured packmate. She wasn't sure whether what just happened was real.
Sabine clenched her jaw and pushed her ward as far as it could hold. The barrage of fire was hitting too hard. Her arms nearly gave out as bright cracks lined the ward's edges. She closed her eyes and flinched for the next spell, only for it not to come. She took a moment to rebalance and recover as Meesei engaged again.
The sliding ebony plates made Do'Rhajul's approach easy to keep track of. Sabine backed away as necessary, though Do'Rhajul could hardly walk, much less charge her again.
Weakened or not, Janius was engaged with two opponents now. Three, if Yerig recovered and intervened. He stepped to reduce the angle at which the gladiator brothers were facing him from. Each step made his knee ache. It a great measure of relief to see her still living.
"Kaleeth," Janius said. He turned his head side to side to see what each opponent was doing. "Stay with me. Stay awake. Drink a potion if you can."
With a shout, Janius threw a chop at the Orc with the warhammer to second-guess his next attack. Even the bright yellow and blue lights from nearby did not break his focus.
Upon Arinette's channelling, Sabine could only stare in awe. A display of power like this could only invoke reading accounts of the greatest mages in history. Great and terrible magicks were wrought by such power. Sabine had no idea what would happen.
Not that there was time to deduce. The hissing white wisps that swam in the air demanded defence from all. They had all been in Skyrim long enough to know what wisps could do, even if these ones were different. Sabine ducked and weaved until she could line up spells to strike them out of the air. Fendros, where he had intended to shoot at Janius and Lorag's assailants, had to start using his arrows against the swarm of wisps as well. Janius caught a reprieve from his opponents, only to need to cut at whatever wisp came too near to himself and Kaleeth.
In a clear moment, Sabine called out. "Meesei! What is that staff!?" The worry broke her voice. "What do we do?"
With the incoming spells, Fendros only had time to loose one more arrow. He brought up his ward again. The fire was perhaps the easiest to weather, not just for his spell absorption, but also his natural resistance to burns. He took the moment to carefully pick up his sword from the ground with his bow hand and slide it back into its scabbard.
The only hesitation Sabine gave was to glance over her shoulder at Do'Rhajul. She otherwise committed both arms to brightening her ward against Arinette. She was not sure how to react to the magic flowing into and out of that staff of hers. One thing was certain; Meesei needed her protection. She made sure no more spells struck her for as long as she could manage.
Fendros peered to the situation the Breton mage was fleeing to. If his opponent would take his fight there, where Meesei and Sabine lay struggling, so be it. Fendros found a tree to use as cover and prepared another sequence of shots. Three at Arinette, two at the Breton.
Janius' situation showed far less control. His breakaway towards Kaleeth was cut short by Yerig, forcing him to defend. His counterattack was as immediate and as ferocious as he could make it. Chops and cuts at the blade of Janius' axe flew in from each direction Yerig's sword was not. While the old man may have been able to defend himself handily, Janius built what momentum he could.
The shout passed over Kaleeth in Janius' view. He did not see how Yerig's shout saved Kaleeth's life. Rather he assume he was trying to finish her off. He used whatever opening or hesitation Yerig showed by swinging up the rim of his shield up at the edge of his peripheral vision to strike a blow at the side of his head.
Whether it would kill Yerig or not was irrelevant. Janius needed to make sure Kaleeth was still alive. Nor would he allow her Orc attackers to confirm her death.
Janius overbalanced when Yerig turned to air in his fingers. The painful weight on his injured knee only made it worse. He hadn't heard that the Thu'um could turn one into a ghost. He counted it as a blessing that the lapse allowed him to stand to his feet once more. He grit his teeth and raised his guard.
The narrow view that Janius' helmet provided allowed him to keep a close eye on Yerig. But, with the fog clearing, the sounds of clanging metal brought his attention around him. What caught his eye were the twin orcs assailing Kaleeth. She was outnumbered and outmatched. Janius snapped his attention back to Yerig. He could try to save her. He had no idea whether Yerig could revert back to a corporeal form. If he could, he would catch Janius with his new limp.
Whatever injury he had taken, Janius knew he couldn't fix it completely on the spot. But he was still a mage. He charged a yellow light in his hand and touched his knee, hissing as the pain cleared. "If you keep me from helping her," Janius growled at Yerig. "I will have to kill you."
Fendros' dancing eyes gathered the mage's intention in a heartbeat. "Ahna! Cover!" He shouted out. The next blink revealed that the clearing fog was more to Fendros' advantage than the mage's. Especially when he was concentrating away from him.
He let go of his sword. One hand took his bow. The other took a pair of arrows. The first was nocked by the time the sword point dug the earth. Fendros did not need to draw the full length, making the shot a fast one. The enchantment to speed him up made it seem uncanny. Such thoughts may have been processed only just after a Dwemer arrowhead dug between the mage's hand bones to erupt into the flaming light of the spell in his palm.
The second arrow went for the thigh with a full draw.
Sabine's shoulders rose and fell. The blizzard spell had drained much of her magicka. She shook off her numbing fingers, but couldn't take her eyes off the still-trapped Do'Rhajul. She had seen the effects of her frost spells in all their macabre effectiveness before, but the mix of blood, icy fur, and shambling movements only made Do'Rhajul look more monstrous. That spell should have brought him down. Even with that shield.
Some errant blast of magic made Sabine register the other fight in view. She didn't have time to think whether it was previous experience of seeing Meesei in trouble or the countenance of Do'Rhajul nearby, but she fell into a focus. Helping Meesei was not only a higher priority for her, but also a more achievable goal than ending Do'Rhajul.
She backed away and dropped into a run, pulling out a potion skin and sucking its contents dry in one swig. The potion washed into her magicka reserves like an opened sluice. The leather skin fell from her hand. In its place was a ward to charge in front of her as she ran. The other hand burned bright yellow. She wildly threw explosive fireballs on the ground around Arinette to break her focus. She had to give Meesei a reprieve, whatever the cost. And whatever that staff could do.
[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPjJCVylFBo[/youtube][/center]
[quote=Michael Leunig. The Curly Pyjama Letters.]
Dear Mr Curly,
I have done little travelling lately because I have been so dreadfully weary. Can it be true as the old Ecclesiastes said; that all things lead to weariness? Surely not. Perhaps the opposite is true: that all [u]nothings[/u] lead to weariness. I have a peculiar feeling, Curly, that [u]I[/u] am worn out from something I haven't yet done and the more I don't do it, the more exhausted I become. How strange. Could it be something I haven't realised? Perhaps it's something I haven't said? Something I haven't finished! It must be very large and true whatever it is and a lively struggle in the doing but I look forward to it immensely. I know I need it. First, however, I must curl up in my chair and sleep deeply with the duck. Perhaps I'll dream of this thing and wake up refreshed and do it. My fond wishes to you Mr. Curly, and to all Curly Flat.
Yours sleepily,
Vasco Pyjama
xxx
P.S. Not having breakfast can make you weary. That's for sure!
[/quote]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><iframe src="//youtube.com/embed/HPjJCVylFBo?theme=dark" frameborder="0" width="496" height="279" allowfullscreen></iframe></div><br><br><blockquote class="bb-quote">Dear Mr Curly,<br>I have done little travelling lately because I have been so dreadfully weary. Can it be true as the old Ecclesiastes said; that all things lead to weariness? Surely not. Perhaps the opposite is true: that all <span class="bb-u">nothings</span> lead to weariness. I have a peculiar feeling, Curly, that <span class="bb-u">I</span> am worn out from something I haven't yet done and the more I don't do it, the more exhausted I become. How strange. Could it be something I haven't realised? Perhaps it's something I haven't said? Something I haven't finished! It must be very large and true whatever it is and a lively struggle in the doing but I look forward to it immensely. I know I need it. First, however, I must curl up in my chair and sleep deeply with the duck. Perhaps I'll dream of this thing and wake up refreshed and do it. My fond wishes to you Mr. Curly, and to all Curly Flat.<br>Yours sleepily,<br>	Vasco Pyjama<br>	xxx<br>P.S. Not having breakfast can make you weary. That's for sure!<footer>Michael Leunig. The Curly Pyjama Letters.</footer></blockquote></div>
StarfrostedFox,
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abc,
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EliteCommander
