Woe to the engineer who builds the unassailable tower, for he may find in turn that he cannot get out again. The line between fortress and prison is such a thin one.
Fratricide on the Path to Power,
Triumph in the First Universal War of Demiurges
Holder of a Seventh of Creation.
The Tower Fortress built
concealing massive treasure and tremendous guilt.
If A Dragon falls – the Pact is broken.
Whose hand fulfills an Oracle’s words spoken ?
Beneath the Caton glacier, situated on a ridgeline above a populous city on the world of Aber-Tel, there is a tunnel in the ice. It wends toward the top of the ridge and eventually straightens into a smooth, straight section some 200 feet long, ending at a mouth.
Lipless, toothless and roughly thirty feet wide, the squat muzzle juts up at an angle from the floor such that its flexible lower jaw can open downwards into a shallow depression. Inside and out are grey, though little of the outer skin can be seen as the edge sits flush to the opaque ice around it. Four short black tendrils coil in its throat, moving quickly between rigid poses which allow it to form phonemes.
The mouth is not at all a secret, and anyone in the city can point you the way. It is their descriptions I relate, as most claim to have at some point visited it and approached it closer than I did (though note I met none on my way). My own experience is with its voice. The tunnel carries the sound a great way, but echoes render it unintelligible until you turn the corner to see it.
Local history, philosophy of art, plant anatomy, mapmaking… these and other strangely disparate topics of conversation on which it will attempt to engage you in its breathy, discordant hum. Knowledgeable, genteel and at times cheeky, the mouth was quite good at holding court. My experience was marred only by the acoustics which made it at times difficult to understand, as I never ventured beyond the edge of the rough ice.
Harmless. Helpless. That’s what the city folk told me, and travellers who had visited concurred. Regardless, the thought ever left my mind that for the mouth to remain alive, in some fashion, at some time, it must eat.
Somehow I find this fitting, and now I can’t shake the tune:
…
Welcome to the hotel California
Such a lovely place
(Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
…
And she said, “We are all just prisoners here of our own device”
And in the master’s chambers they gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives but they just can’t kill the beast
Last thing I remember I was running for the door
I had to find the passage back to the place I was before
“Relax,” said the night man, “We are programmed to receive
You can check out any time you like but you can never leave”
a tyrant is only as powerful as the system around him. In South America and many other regions, tyrants have been taken down futilely because the systems and groups around them stayed in power and maintained the status quo
So, the second Demiurge burdened by their immortality. But Mottom was bound to it by fear — and though AL-YIS-UN offered her death, Mottom dared not accept. Mammon was born to it — will AL-YIS-UN offer him death? Or will she instead grant him release from a different trap?
And then too, there’s the matter of Zaid. It was said by Mottom that he was imprisoned here. But when AL-YIS-UN finds Zaid, just what will she find? We have seen how Allison, once ruled by fear, has developed and come into her power as AL-YIS-UN. Zaid was perhaps ruled by lust — but how might he have changed in his captivity, and what power might he have acquired? Will he flee back to our Unconquered Earth? (Would he be allowed to?) Or might he seek to claim the place of Mammon?
And so we find two of the seven heads consumed with self pity, rotting away in age. It seems that Time has slain the great beast before Al-Yis-Un ever came.
108 Reaver Full Of Heresy Who Defies The Will of Fate
Alison, my King, behold the truth of the Mighty! The Demiurges were not always the monsters feeding and being fed on by the Rotting Corpse of Throne. But just as the Gods Themselves turned to statues now used as public transportation, so too have these once great heroes and philosophers turned into halo-adorned set pieces.
No matter how immortal one is, no one ever accounts for just how long Eternityr is, or they forget that YISUN himself killed perpetuity and perfection when he died. Now we who remain must find our own imperfect path, and pray to ourselves we did enough to not make things even more terrible.
Please, my King, AL-YI-SUN, end this cycle. Find a way. Even if you do nothing else, even if you try and fail…
…know that you will have succeeded where I have not.
Why lay siege to the tower if you can open it with a key?
Why search for a key when you can simply knock and request sanctuary?
Why seek sanctuary when you can sleep on the dirt outside?
this twist is making my brain spin at 10,000 rpm
best fucking comic
What would happen if LaLa Girl were to start pulling swords OUT of the big guy?
Allison should not forget that the senile sometimes suddenly remember
i guess we know why the dragon kept his silver coin around.
Re the Alt-Text: Allison realizes that no NORMAL girl from LA is she!
Woe to the engineer who builds the unassailable tower, for he may find in turn that he cannot get out again. The line between fortress and prison is such a thin one.
Little less terrified of him… but becoming him. Such a pitiful creature.
A Dragon’s Tale
Fratricide on the Path to Power,
Triumph in the First Universal War of Demiurges
Holder of a Seventh of Creation.
The Tower Fortress built
concealing massive treasure and tremendous guilt.
If A Dragon falls – the Pact is broken.
Whose hand fulfills an Oracle’s words spoken ?
Beneath the Caton glacier, situated on a ridgeline above a populous city on the world of Aber-Tel, there is a tunnel in the ice. It wends toward the top of the ridge and eventually straightens into a smooth, straight section some 200 feet long, ending at a mouth.
Lipless, toothless and roughly thirty feet wide, the squat muzzle juts up at an angle from the floor such that its flexible lower jaw can open downwards into a shallow depression. Inside and out are grey, though little of the outer skin can be seen as the edge sits flush to the opaque ice around it. Four short black tendrils coil in its throat, moving quickly between rigid poses which allow it to form phonemes.
The mouth is not at all a secret, and anyone in the city can point you the way. It is their descriptions I relate, as most claim to have at some point visited it and approached it closer than I did (though note I met none on my way). My own experience is with its voice. The tunnel carries the sound a great way, but echoes render it unintelligible until you turn the corner to see it.
Local history, philosophy of art, plant anatomy, mapmaking… these and other strangely disparate topics of conversation on which it will attempt to engage you in its breathy, discordant hum. Knowledgeable, genteel and at times cheeky, the mouth was quite good at holding court. My experience was marred only by the acoustics which made it at times difficult to understand, as I never ventured beyond the edge of the rough ice.
Harmless. Helpless. That’s what the city folk told me, and travellers who had visited concurred. Regardless, the thought ever left my mind that for the mouth to remain alive, in some fashion, at some time, it must eat.
Seriously, I love this guy can’t we just bring him along on the adventure?
Somehow I find this fitting, and now I can’t shake the tune:
…
Welcome to the hotel California
Such a lovely place
(Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
…
And she said, “We are all just prisoners here of our own device”
And in the master’s chambers they gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives but they just can’t kill the beast
Last thing I remember I was running for the door
I had to find the passage back to the place I was before
“Relax,” said the night man, “We are programmed to receive
You can check out any time you like but you can never leave”
a tyrant is only as powerful as the system around him. In South America and many other regions, tyrants have been taken down futilely because the systems and groups around them stayed in power and maintained the status quo
PROTECT HIM
Such is the Fate of Great Ones who could not unmask the Tower inside them.
So, the second Demiurge burdened by their immortality. But Mottom was bound to it by fear — and though AL-YIS-UN offered her death, Mottom dared not accept. Mammon was born to it — will AL-YIS-UN offer him death? Or will she instead grant him release from a different trap?
And then too, there’s the matter of Zaid. It was said by Mottom that he was imprisoned here. But when AL-YIS-UN finds Zaid, just what will she find? We have seen how Allison, once ruled by fear, has developed and come into her power as AL-YIS-UN. Zaid was perhaps ruled by lust — but how might he have changed in his captivity, and what power might he have acquired? Will he flee back to our Unconquered Earth? (Would he be allowed to?) Or might he seek to claim the place of Mammon?
“You’re a scourge, and a pest, and a baneful monster!’
‘Not a word of truth in it,’ said the dragon, wagging his head solemnly. …”
— Kenneth Grahame, “The Reluctant Dragon”
http://blaine.org/sevenimpossiblethings/?p=2622
Senile old man,
Full of regrets and guilt,
Fuck this purple bitch.
Pitiful Creature deserving only mercy truly.
If I could give it rest I would.
Such a good guy. I love him.
So his disciples were once his slayers, and the kids are their descendants.
Cool.
My father once told me that you never need to hire an evil adviser.
Once you reach a certain level of wealth or power, an evil guy will just show up and start giving you bad advice.
I’ve found that it’s usually several, but most of them have bad reports with the BBB.
And so we find two of the seven heads consumed with self pity, rotting away in age. It seems that Time has slain the great beast before Al-Yis-Un ever came.
Alison, my King, behold the truth of the Mighty! The Demiurges were not always the monsters feeding and being fed on by the Rotting Corpse of Throne. But just as the Gods Themselves turned to statues now used as public transportation, so too have these once great heroes and philosophers turned into halo-adorned set pieces.
No matter how immortal one is, no one ever accounts for just how long Eternityr is, or they forget that YISUN himself killed perpetuity and perfection when he died. Now we who remain must find our own imperfect path, and pray to ourselves we did enough to not make things even more terrible.
Please, my King, AL-YI-SUN, end this cycle. Find a way. Even if you do nothing else, even if you try and fail…
…know that you will have succeeded where I have not.
All of the wealth he wished for, but not the wealth he needed