Seeker of Thrones 5-46
Chapter: 5
“Beware, my child, the pits of the Deep,
The things that move unheard,
The Rake, the Whip, the bladed Shriek,
And the dreadful Goliant Bird.”
– Children’s rhyme, Shades
Kill Six Billion Demons
Seeker of Thrones
“Beware, my child, the pits of the Deep,
The things that move unheard,
The Rake, the Whip, the bladed Shriek,
And the dreadful Goliant Bird.”
– Children’s rhyme, Shades
Detestable. Do not look away, good Allison, you must steel yourself for worse to come.
Rude!
I’ll have you know my hefty cousin is quite the family man!
That is a big verdant boy
Nay, tis Ebon
Isn’t it Ebon?
Maybe for you.
If blinded, what would you fear?
Not knowing when danger was near?
Don’t discount the horrors you can hear.
LOV THE CRONCH
:0
It is good that the beasts of the deep pits remain chained, this one suspects that if such horrors were to be released upon throne that their would be a sudden surge of available real estate.
Perhaps it is best for those descending into the White-Eyed Woman to occupy their minds wishing for nothing more than a sturdier elevator.
Aye, they remain chained to be set loose only when market conditions are right.
The Pale from under. Flesh gobbling face of ebony.
I think a little elevator music would do nicely to lighten the atmosphere.
Ask and ye shall receive: https://youtu.be/EcNNijfPHOo
Ah, Yahar’gul. A hidden gem.
Customs is a pain, though.
it would aggravate and incite violence.
this is axiomatic.
This, incidentally, is WHY there is no elevator music.
Wrong direction, I know, but I hear Zettai Unmei Mokushiroku.
Thanks for introducing me to this.
I am now imagining a small devil sitting atop the elevator by the gears, playing the pipes.
Mind the gap.
It’s a long way down.
And how nice of dear Goliant to point the way!
This is where you start doubting your job description.
“I have to kill six billion of these things?!”
Also, there are children in the Shades?
Children there are not. Urchins may be a better word; they are almost universally the unwanted outcome of a sordid encounter, and are thrown aside into the masses of human dretitus at a young age. Out of their desperate circumstances and inability to survive alone, they congregate in large camps or colonies (although they could just as accurately be called packs, herds, or dens), and live mostly underground, keeping to themselves.
Being completely isolated from Thronar society, and entirely devoid of the influence of adults (at least the ones that do not wish to kill them or sell them into slavery), these roving bands of orphans have developed their own bizarre culture, and even an incomprehensible pidgin-like dialect.
Their numbers tend to increase as people are priced out of other entertainments.
They are a by-product of industry.
Sooo… I’m guessing veterinarians are rare and expensive?
Looks like Allisons power-drunkness has come to an abrupt end…
In all fairness, I’d be nervous too.
“Fuck you, I’m out” -Heir to Throne
The (My) proper response to any horror game I play that doesn’t allow you (me) at least an assault rifle.
Or tank.
hi there
Be it ever so Hellish, there’s no place like Home.
Some big ol’ wingéd devil. Unsurprised that the Ebon can get that big.
A descent can become an ascent if you look at it from the right perspective. And don’t mind all the blood rushing to your head.
Worry not, tis not your own …. Oh, but this wee trickle isn’t blood is it?
A great and Ebon Devil/
Doth languish in a cage/
Beneath the Deeps, it revels/
And twists its mask with rage.
‘Ok, make the thing lower faster now please so I don’t paniccidentally the whole building with godflames?’
seems the sort of place to breed devils that even they themselves look upon with disdain
One wonders why, how and by whom these devils are chained, dispite their ebon or verdant masks.
The black king is a serious dude, but still.
Holy shit this is so cool.
Hail, Hail the Lords of the Deep!
Don’t mind him, he’s just having a mid-morning snack.
In Shades, they are lost in the dark and there is no morning.
It’s 8:00 somewhere.
Goliant Bird, Goliant Bird
Chews your bones without a word
Alas, this one’s mind has gone quite soft
From the infernal shape held aloft
By dirtied pinions great and ragged
With teeth grown long and sharp and jagged
Yes.
Such finesse.
I’m behind this.
Goliant Bird is best bird. bird. bird. BirD bIrdBirdBIRDbirdbIRDbIRdbirdbirdBIrdbiRD
For lo! It is, indeed, the word.
say it now, the great word. bird.
There is no heaven, for there is only Throne.
For Throne simply is, a suppurating mass hosting thousands of worlds and their long shadows.
To plunge its depths and grant audience at the Heretic’s Court is to bear stigma.
Now and forever.
… so very close to poignant. But to plunge is a directed verb. Either was meant ‘to plunge into its depths,’ or ‘to plumb its depths’, meaning to take its measure. Either would work well.
Or perhaps you meant to plunger it like a toilet? What clogs that would unleash!
“The Rake, the Whip, the bladed Shrek…”
“What are yu doin’ in mah Shaydes!?!?”
It’s rude to stare.
WHO DAT
Goliant Bird of course. The Saint of Starvation. The Inverse Vulture.
The farther down you go, the worse it gets…
Also, I now want to hear the entire Shades version of Jabberwocky.
She took her rusted sword in hand,
trusting rigid forms of thought,
opened her pituitary gland
and lost the battle before ’twas fought.
Nice neighborhood- I wonder what the rent is like.
Nom Nom Nom!
Is this a hell? Because it certainly seems like one.
Yes, but a hell for who?
Is this a hell? Because it certainly seems like one. Dante would recognise this place in a heartbeat.
Haven’t heard that Rhyme, Abbadon. But I know the one that goes “snicker-snack” :3c
I wonder if it burbles? And if that blade is of the vorpal family?
I bet Elphaba wishes she had that flying monkey.
Oh! So that is the Jabberwock.. snicker snacking.
A preference for the head, curiously. Perhaps it seeks divinity.
It is neither a pleasant place nor even a place for pleasantries.
Everyone should have a care for their pleasantries at the Heretic’s Court.
We wouldn’t want things to get unpleasant.
I told in the last building meeting that owners should watch over their pets. now, to whom belong this winged beast?
My my, has my cousin grown!
Looks like he’s on the protein!
Also, I’m reminded of why I don’t attend family gatherings. (Such low hygiene!)
The guy’s got chains. That means he’s a pet. These folks like pets. So homey. Sword-girl can relax.
The Scholar, The Scoundrel, The Sheriff, The Sovereign.
Seven depths and sins, but hell is far fresher than the future that is to come.
at the bottom of the shaft is a pool of ichor so slick and so black that it forms a perfect mirror. everything reflected in it is cursed to turn to dust, eventually. none has ever escaped this fate, though the timeline remains uncertain.
new mask who dis
“Oh, that’s just Frank. Ignore him.”
Descent
“Valhalla this is Vertigo 1 preparing to jump.”
Powerful memories
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WiIt0XZgrng
The first test of the Heretic’s Court is reaching it.
Men prefer to believe that they are degenerated angels, rather than elevated apes.
William Winwood Reade, Chapter III, “Liberty”
Is that an ebon form or an ebon piloting an ancient angel’s husk?
So… where’s the elevator’s counterweight, Abaddon?
It is weighted against the worth of your soul. If found lacking you will be hurled swiftly to your doom.
One must have a very good reason to go down The Pit, for in the depths of it triviality is a quick way to death if one is lucky, and a fate worse than that if luck isnt on ones side
Behold, see how even the devils are impressed by angels and how they imitate them in their own visage. See how they claw at them even in unintentional homage.
Y’all probably know this already, but on some worlds there’s practical limits on the height of an elevator shaft. Has to do with the amount of cable required versus the weight of that cable, and the structural requirements to support it all. ‘Course when you have infinite worlds and wealth at your disposal you can utilize ultra-light, ultra-strong materials and essentially negate those mundane aspects of elevator engineering (brought to you by the Fraternal Order of Ascent and Descent, previously headquartered in Otisburg, CA).
The Vatra of Thyssenkrupp still work their ancient vendetta upon the practitioners of the Craft. The Elevated Conflict rages yet from tower to tower, but their battles kill fewer bystanders since the transition from a more standard guild struggle to a War of the Brand.
You call yourself an Eliminator? You dare mention the Fraternal Order of Ascent and Descent when your union dues are STILL in arrears ?
Sent from my Stirrup Loop Ascent Device
Hrmm… Have I paid my dues? Yessir, the check is in the mail. Sent via Porkchop Express 😉
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explained, keep it up all the time.