TDM #5 - Paradesium

[pumpkinhollow]

Pumpkin Hollow Gazette March Issue

[Find our plain text version here!]

Pumpkin Hollow Gazette

3/8/24 | TDM #5 - Paradesium
Content Warnings: individual CWs found per prompt in "Further Details"
Forecast: Partly cloudy with a chance of rain

WELCOME TO PUMPKIN HOLLOW!

By Yorick Aberdeen

Apparently the ferryman needed a bigger boat!

ACROSS TOWN - Since June of 16:53, a steady stream of new arrivals to our sleepy little town has flowed in by ferry, emerging from the fog. And it seems this trend is due to continue, as this March is due to be on record the highest number of new residents in a single month!

We are incredibly grateful for all of you coming to our home and filling it with life once more, even though the dangers of our local curse have significantly increased since all of you began arriving. This reporter isn’t complaining--- additional harm to my own person notwithstanding!

If you are a new arrival, please report to Town Hall at your leisure so that we can help you find work and permanent lodging. Or don’t! The Oak & Iron is happy to rent you a room for as long as you need. Best of luck to all of you, and as we say in Pumpkin Hollow, may your lanterns always be lit!

CHARITY DRIVE ENCOURAGES CULTURAL EXCHANGE

By Cecil Gershwin Palmer

One of the charming toys created during last year's Doll Picnic.

FESTIVAL GREEN - Preparations are underway for the upcoming annual Doll Picnic. A charity event sponsored by the Artisan’s Guild, this picnic is an Anwyllic tradition that was brought to the island and continued with love. The first Doll Picnic was organized by Dame Meredith Idlewild of the town of Glyn Rhuthun on Kora’s Haven, with the toys being donated to the local children’s hospital after a massive landslide engulfed a local school.

The Artisan’s Guild has baskets of material available for making dolls, including fabric, yarn, stuffing, buttons, and the like. However, tradition states that sourcing materials from the natural world (for example, acorn husks to use as buttons or deadwood to carve for doll arms and legs) results in the toys being blessed by Serrenai, who will watch over the children who play with them. The toys will be donated to local children after the picnic, including those who are ill or whose families can only afford necessities.

Newcomers are explicitly invited to join in the making of toys, and the resulting picnic. As a personal note: the locals have never heard of a teddy bear before. This reporter expects to see several, as we introduce our traditions to their traditions.

PLANTING SEASON BEGINS!

By Yorick Aberdeen

After a difficult winter, the appearance of spring's sprouts lifts our spirits.

NORTHWEST HOLLOW - The spring thaw is in full swing! That means it’s time for our local farmers to begin planting. Town Hall is offering a small reward to any of our newest arrivals who would be interested in assisting with planting season for farms less than a year old.

Anyone fresh off the boat interested in making 100 Brass should seek out Eddie and Angel Kasbrak, Arthur Morgan, Cèsar Salazar, Mairi Miann, Ylva Wolfsdottir, or Muriel and offer assistance with tilling and planting. We look forward to rewarding you for your contributions!

HOT SPRINGS OPEN FOR RELAXATION

By Yorick Aberdeen

Photograph provided by the Safety Board!

CRANE'S RIDGE - After a recent earthquake opened up a hot spring on the lower portion of Crane’s Ridge, a small portion of the Pumpkin Hollow Damage Claims Assessment Corps has been working to get the area cleaned up and safe for use by the general public.

Following its recent approval for compliance by the Safety Board, we are pleased to announce that Porter’s Spring is now available for public enjoyment! It can be accessed by taking the train to the North Station or by following the central trail out of Northwest Hollow, though the Safety Board does not recommend making this journey on foot due to its proximity to Lake Sal-Co-Penn. Enjoy!

STRANGE CAVERNS DISCOVERED BENEATH CRANE’S RIDGE

By Yorick Aberdeen

A small glimpse into this world beneath our own.

CRANE RIDGE - In addition to the hot springs, the earthquake can also be credited for a major cave-in in our Crane’s Ridge mines. A large tunnel was completely buried in rubble by the inexplicable natural occurrence. For the past several months, our mining team has been chipping away at the cave-in to try and regain access to the blocked tunnels in the lower area of the mountain.

In one of these tunnels, however, the team discovered a shocking surprise as the rubble was removed! Apparently, just beyond the mine walls, there has been an entrance to Hepogaia--- a subterranean nation running below our own fair country and many others. It seems that this particular portion of Hepogaian territory is also trapped within the barrier. Brief attempts at scouting by the Safety Board have noted a plethora of subterranean wildlife, both familiar and unfamiliar. This incredible new environment, hiding just out of sight beneath our island, is so full of wonder and splendor that it has earned a fitting name--- “Paradesium.”

A recent ecology study and expedition run by Pumpkin Hollow’s own Dr. Elias Coldwood has redirected their efforts to this new location, but those interested in exploring and scouting out this fantastical new discovery independently are encouraged to pack thoughtfully and travel in groups of two or more! Any information obtained during excursions into Paradesium would be appreciated by the Pumpkin Hollow Board of Safety.

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Further Details...

Charity Drive

The Doll Picnic Charity Drive will run throughout the next two months during our TDM, and there will be an event later on involving posing the dolls for a picnic. Once a photo is taken, the children will be allowed to come picnic with their new toys and take them home after!

There is absolutely no way this could possibly go wrong. Absolutely no dollmakers will be jumpscared or attacked by possessed dolls. None at all. (Okay, maybe some of them. But it’s fine. It’s for a good cause.)

[Mod Note: you can just make a doll without it coming to life and trying to kick your ass, that part is optional. Also the dolls will be blessed at the picnic and rendered unable to attack children.]

Planting Season

Any brand-new characters will get 100B extra on their stipend if they submit an AC-length thread with one of the existing farmers on their first Activity Check! This will be available regardless of whether the character qualifies for normal bonuses, but can only be redeemed by those who app in.

For reference for new players, threads are considered AC-length if they are ten tags in length (meaning 5 of your own tags and 5 from your partner.)

Hot Springs

Porter’s Spring is a perfectly normal and safe hot spring! However, you can encounter any number of perils on your way there if you decide to travel on foot, allowing new players to revisit some of our earlier events.

Check out our bestiary (pending update to new format) for more information on creatures such as Brutoks, the River Walker, and the Pine Devil, or stumble on Lake Sal-Co-Penn for a nasty surprise! Brutoks may also steal personal items from spring-goers on occasion. Don’t chase after them alone unless you want to be turned into a tree!

The Tristitia

In addition to the creatures in the wild, in town after dark characters may also encounter the Tristitia, Pumpkin Hollow’s newest cryptid.

She is a wraith-like spirit which haunts the island. Wearing tattered black clothes and colored all in shades of gray, she appears as a woman who walks around weeping with a caved-in chest, covering her face with her hands. Harmless if given a wide berth, but if she is set off, she will take out her desire for empathy for her grief on her target. She does this by embracing them and drawing out their own grief and trauma, leaving the target catatonic before she fades away, temporarily assuaged.

Into Paradesium

Crystals, golden with light and raw magical energy, cast what looks like sunlight down into the cascading cave. For every foot lower that the ground curls down from the entrance, the trees stretch ever-higher, carrying the raucous cries of animals unlike the surface of Marrow Isle had ever heard.

A jungle, so lush with life, sprawls ahead of any brave enough to venture into it. But what is there to see?

For Paradesium specifically, the bestiary has received a significant update. Creatures featured in prompts have their links to the accounts by Dr. Coldwood and his team marked with stars for easy location.

Below are multiple prompts for some encounters to be had in the jungle, but feel free to create any of your own encounters with any of the creatures listed! If the descriptions are short, feel free to write the creatures' behaviors however makes sense.

Welcome to the Jungle

Swallowed by dense canopies and noise, the jungle is quick to swallow any who travel within it whole.

Eyes are quick to find you, however. Perching in the treetops are a variety of small wyverns in vibrant colors, heads tilting as they try to comprehend what you could be. They squawk, chatter, and some of the bolder ones draw closer - if you sit anything aside and leave it unattended for too long, some even bolder than that will pilfer it, taking the object into the trees to admire with its companions.

Reptilian hunters with bright, keen eyes, the Plommon, consider you with much of the same interest. This interest increases tenfold if you happen to feed them.

If the prying eyes are no bother, then the forest's bounty is ripe for tending and taking. Bananas hang off trees, colorful citrus fruits catch light on their waxy peels, and bulky cocoa beans are jostled by movement in the branches above them. Even the broad leaves of the plants prove extraordinarily useful, whether you're looking to come in and quickly leave, or intend to push further within.

Wherever you go, those curious eyes follow you. Perhaps even out of the cave, should your attempts to shoo an adventurous creature away. What an odd way to gain a new team member.

Down a Few Notches on the Food Chain

(CWs: Potential for death, gore, or animal death)

Unfortunately, not all can be pure bounty and new friends in a place like this.

With the cavern sprawling widely and massively, there are many significantly larger creatures in this space, and some seem to be keen to take up opportunity for new prey. As you explore, there's a new feeling of eyes upon you, and the silence that overtakes the surrounding trees spells nothing good to come.

Any one of the massive predators in the wood has you in it's sights.

Escape is difficult, but manageable, as is fighting back. Creatures can be challenged, and hides, bones, and other spoils can be claimed from them, should there be success! If not, this is a good opportunity for familiarization with the Death page.

The silkhide chimera specializes in persistence. The longer and further you go, the more exhausted you'll get. A break is an opportunity that it will be keen to take.

The greenstalker excels at ambushing and high-speed pursuit. At top speeds of 30MPH, your party will need strategy and skill on their side to keep this beast at bay. (Or, alternatively, a source of fire.)

The elephant raptor does neither of these - the beast's sheer length of reach does all it needs to. Water and mud soften the sounds of the gargantuan creature's approach. Stay alert, and be sure that you hear it before it's upon you.

Safe travels become more difficult to manage, the further in you go. Deep, rumbling snores tell you that there's a chance you're just getting to the greater threats this paradise has to offer...

Fragments of the Past

Through great distances traveled, this "uninhabited" cavern begins to show signs that may speak to that not having always been the case.

Ruins of homes, crumbled bricks and tiles, can be found at the deepest reaches of the cavern. These dilapidated buildings, though worn with time, tell a story: the people who left his place, one that could be identified as a stenholm to any familiar with dwarvish culture, did not leave it on good terms.

Essentials were clearly taken with them, as the ruins of this place lack tools or clothing. Valuables are still scattered throughout, however. Large objects with too much history to have been left behind by indifference dot the collapsing homes. Ritual circles still waft radiant energy from them.

In the remains of a temple, an altar stands, cracking with age and covered in plants as the cavern reclaims it. Old candle-stands have rusted with age, but still stand, undisturbed.

Just before the altar, folded onto its side (as best as one can be, when only pieces remain), lies a skeleton. The clothes are tattered remains of stained whites and dulled blues, and the wildlife have cleaned flesh from bones, but it's remained undisturbed by time.

There's a quiet sadness to this place that lingers, even with the people who inhabited it so long since lost.

Should you linger too long, however, there comes the distinct feeling of not being alone.

Clair de Lune

(CWs: Long-term isolation, extinction)

Golden eyes of a human face follow your every moment, and the moment you lock your gaze onto them, the face emerges from the darkness, partially covered by spilling dark hair.

What follows this face, however, is not a human face - but, rather, a feline body with sprawling, grey-flecked wings.

There's a long, tense silence, as it emerges fully. Standing easily at eight feet tall while on all fours, the size of this creature becomes more and more apparent as it emerges from the dark of the collapsed wind.

Unlike the other animals of the cavern, though, there seems to be an anxiousness to its look. The lion's chest rises and falls with short, nervous breaths.

And then, in a hushed, woman's voice, hoarse from disuse, it speaks.

"Who are you? Why have you come here?"

-------------------

The Sphinx is a new NPC available for characters to interact with, should they delve deep enough into the caverns to find the stenholm. She's wary of all the new faces, and tends to be somewhat flighty, but seems cautiously interested in what new humans being in Hepogaia have to offer. For the sort looking to understand this place, it's people, or intend to trade, she can be communed with.

To interact with her, comment on the TL provided from beastsofthehollow with her icon, and if the initial introduction isn't your speed, feel free to encounter her however you like!

Comments

[misbegottendreamer]

"Is this truly the afterlife, then? The land of the spirits? I will confess, I thought that upon my death, I would be... well, whole again." She pauses.

"I prefer to tend to my own wounds, but I would appreciate new bandages now and again."

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

"To be honest, I don't know what it is. Far as I understand it, this was a perfectly normal place to live for the folks that were born and raised here, and we just... sort of showed up, thanks to Mortanne - that's the white-haired woman you spoke to, who offered you the choice to come here. Apparently she's the local death goddess."

Which he has some feelings about, none of which he can correctly identify at this time. Shit's weird and he doesn't like it, but what can he do?

"Anyway, getting your hands on fresh bandages shouldn't be an issue. I think you'll want to check the apothecary for that? Sally Boyle runs the place, I can give you directions later. Either that or you can visit one of the clinics, I'm sure they have supplies to spare."

[misbegottendreamer]

"I'd appreciate that. And... a death goddess, you say? Does she care for the truly deceased, as well as those of us who are here by way of a transient state? Is there a temple that honors her and the other local gods? I may wish to pay tribute to such a spirit."

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

"Not sure," Leon admits, sheepish and apologetic, having gotten a little overwhelmed during his initial conversation with Angel about the local faith and retained less of it than he maybe should've. "But I get the impression people like us turning up here is a pretty new thing, so I'd guess so. As for the temple, that's over near Town Hall. They can probably answer at least some of your questions there."

[misbegottendreamer]

"Then I suppose I shall find my way to the temple, once we've finished our business here. Of course, there's no reason to rush."

She, uh, doesn't seem to have actually noticed the drink.

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

"Good plan," says Leon, frowning thoughtfully as he considers how it might be smart for him to do that too sooner or later, just to get a sense of who and what he's dealing with in terms of the powers that be here. He kind of... really doesn't want to, though, for reasons he can't quite put his finger on. The whole notion of gods just makes him uncomfortable in a way he can't fully define, and the easiest way to deal with that is to not think about it at all.

To that end, he changes the subject.

"You, uh, want a drink?" he asks, gesturing towards the glass he's set in front of her. "If whiskey's not to your taste, I'd be happy to treat you to something else."

[misbegottendreamer]

"I certainly wouldn't mind one," she says, oblivious to the gesture. Perhaps "poor eyesight" was a bit of an understatement.

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

Ohhhhh shit she genuinely can't see the glass in front of her, can she? Leon doesn't know if it's due to the low lights in the inn or if her vision is just that bad and she's just really good at compensating when it comes to bigger things like following him down the street, but he has to pause a moment to think about the politest thing to do in this situation.

"Here," he says, ultimately deciding to just... pick up the glass again and gently nudge her hand with it. Seems least awkward and least room for miscommunication, hopefully. "It's pretty strong stuff, but it's good. They know their way around alcohol here."

[misbegottendreamer]

"Oh! Apologies, muthsera. I... should have been forthcoming." She takes the glass in her hand, bows her head, and tucks the drink beneath it, keeping her face concealed.

"This is good. Not quite flin, but it's definitely similar to what we have back home."

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

"No worries," says Leon, waving off the apology. If anything he thinks it might be his bad for not noticing sooner, but either way things seem to be working out just fine now. No need to fret over it.

"So, where is home, for you? We've got people from all over here showing up on the ferry, and I really do mean all over. I'm from the United States, if that means anything to you."

He wouldn't be surprised if it didn't, though. Of all the proper nouns she's tossed his way so far, only 'Nord' was a familiar one, and he's not sure it means the same thing to her.

[misbegottendreamer]

"I can't say I've heard of 'the United States.' I do remember the Cyrodiilic Empire was sometimes called 'the United Provinces of Tamriel,' though few call it that anymore. As for myself... I come from Morrowind, land of molten rivers and ash-filled skies, where the earth is food-rich from kwam-eggs and even the unforgiving ashlands bear sweet yams to give the weary traveler strength." She sounds comforted as she speaks of her home.

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

"Mm." Leon hums, thoughtfully. "So that sorta confirms it - I've never heard of any of those places, which means we're probably from different worlds entirely. Different planets, maybe different universes. Mortanne's got some reach, when it comes to who she's picking for this... whatever it is."

Opportunity. Mission. Pick your poison.

"Anyway. Sounds like you love it there a lot." He envies it, a little, a touch of wistfulness coming across in his voice. Once upon a time he might've had similar things to say about the US, but in recent years his view's gotten a little jaded. Not that he doesn't still love it in its own way, but it's harder to wax poetic about it. Still. Something about hearing her talk that way stirs something in him. "You get the chance to travel around it much? While you were collecting stories, and all."

[misbegottendreamer]

“I traveled Morrowind for a time, though the eruption of Red Mountain left me and many of my House sheltering in our ancient stronghold. To be honest, I’ve spent more of the recent years traveling in the neighboring country of Skyrim, keeping the stories of my people in that foreign land, lest our history be lost in the wake of diaspora. That was where I was when I… when I ended up here,” she corrects herself, not wanting to focus on the cause of her relocation.

“I was traveling with a small group of unlikely allies. An Imperial with the soul of a dragon, named Skadi. A Nord with a heart that was at once unshakable and filled with fear- his name was Haldor. Then there was Lies-In-Rain, a quiet Argonian with unusual magic talents and a disposition that seemed to change from day to day. Finally, there was Lucy, a Daedric spirit bound into Atronach form, who had a close bond with Lies. Together, we crossed Skyrim at the behest of Shor, the ‘missing god,’ who was at war with an old enemy of mine. I promised myself that I would keep my companions alive, no matter what it took. I… pray that I kept that promise.”

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

Leon nods along as she tells the story, looking sympathetic all the while. There's a reason he's been euphemistically referring to how they all got here as 'taking the ferry' despite not generally being one to dance around stuff like that. None of them got here by having a fantastic time back home.

In any case, while he doesn't catch the specifics of what all of that means, unfamiliar with some of the words she's using or the particulars of them, he can get enough of the gist that it resonates.

"Yeah," he says, sighing. "They sound like a fun bunch. Last thing before I came here, I'd been sent pretty far from home too, on a rescue mission with my own share of unlikely allies."

He smiles, ruefully, thinking about Luis. Thinking about Ada.

"Was almost at the end of it too, but, you know. Sometimes things go sideways. Here's to finishing what we started, though, or at least hoping we gave everyone else the best chance we could."

[misbegottendreamer]

"May we each find a fulfilling path." She takes another drink.

"Tell me of your allies, muthsera. Tell me their stories, if that will not bring you too much pain."

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

Leon hesitates a moment at the request. Will it hurt too much, talking about them now? His kneejerk instinct is yes, but... maybe he should go for it anyway. Maybe they deserve to be remembered, even the passing glances he got of them.

"Sure," he says. "I don't have quite your way with words, but..."

He takes a sip of his drink, mulling over just what to say.

"I guess first up is Ashley. She was the one I was sent to rescue, but she wound up saving my skin a few times over in the process. Brave as hell - first thing she did when I showed up was come at me with a candelabra because she thought I was one of her captors." He laughs a little, shaking his head. "Ashamed to admit I didn't expect a lot of her at first, but she's sharp and adaptable, and keeps her head in situations where I've seen trained soldiers lose it entirely."

"Then there's Ada. Not sure I should call her an ally. She's the kind of woman who's really only out for herself and isn't ashamed of that, but I guess... our interests align just enough. She's hard to describe. Just about every time I think I know anything about her, she proves me wrong, and I think she likes it best that way."

He pauses again, swirling the whiskey glass in his hand and staring into it thoughtfully.

"Anyway. Last there's... Luis." At this, his voice goes distant and mournful. "I found him tied up in some basement on my way to find Ashley, and after letting him out I found out he used to work for some people who did... a lot of terrible things."

Sitting back, he closes his eyes, sighing.

"I wasn't happy about that. I didn't trust him, but he kept showing up and insisting on helping, and we weren't in any position to refuse. He acted like the whole thing was some grand adventure though, like we were heroes in some fairy tale. Couldn't take anything seriously." Throwing back the rest of his whiskey, Leon sets the glass down on the table with a thunk. "He died. Saving me. Gave me the tools to save Ashley, too. We both would've died, if not for him. Or worse."

[misbegottendreamer]

"Ashley. Ada. Luis." She repeats each of their names, and nods in understanding.

"I cannot say that any of my companions worked for people who did terrible things, per se, but I know a similar feeling. Haldor's people and my own have a long history of conflict. It's something he still struggles with, but... he's barely more than a boy. I hope that he will live on to learn that there is good to be had between mer and men."

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

"Yeah," says Leon, his voice not quite cracking but wavering just a bit as he reflects on things. "Hard to put things like that aside, sometimes. I didn't until it was too late."

He thinks about Luis's last words, somehow feeling like they were both freshly burned into his memory and like a lifetime ago already.

'People can change, right?'

And it hurts, to think that he was carrying that guilt until the end, that Leon was his best and only option for something like absolution, struck dumb as he was in the moment and unable to think of anything he could say to make things right. Wordlessly, he refills his glass.

"Looking out for the good that can be done instead, though - that's probably smart. World might be a better place if more people thought like that."

[misbegottendreamer]

"It starts with believing that the world can be better. That alone is a difficult step to take. After that, well... it can take time for us to realize what we can do to make things better. Often, it feels like we are nothing, and can do nothing."

"Such was how I felt when I met Shor in the caverns of Snowthroat."

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

Leon goes silent for a moment, thinking that over. It's something he can relate to - both feeling like there's nothing to be done in the face of everything that the world is and deciding to try anyway. Hearing it put like that by someone else makes it feel like it could be the smart choice, though, and not just him ramming his thick skull against a proverbial wall forever.

"Wise words," Leon says, sincerely. "Tell me about Shor, though. You said they were a 'missing god'?"

[misbegottendreamer]

"Yes. Shor- who also has aspects called Sep, Sheor, Lorkhan, and Lorkhaj- is said in may stories to have been killed at the dawn of the world, when the other great spirits saw his proposal of the world's creation as a form of treachery. The different races of Tamriel have very divided views when in comes to Shor- some view him as a noble trickster, who pried the gods away from a distant and indolent state to create something greater than themselves. Others see the world as a mistake, a fall from grace, with Shor as its cause."

"The Dunmer see all spirits as our ancestors, though we favor the Daedra over the Aedra, for they are more active in our lives. Likewise, when we depart the world, we remain watchful over the living, joining our ancestors as lesser spirits that will one day grow to approach their knowledge and power. Therefore, Shor- though I rarely called him by that name, before meeting him face to face- is an ancestor like any other spirit, whose word is to be considered and heeded."

"As I have said before, I cannot see. I could not tell you what shape he took by my own senses, though I know he was small, and my companions said he was in the shape of a black fox. What stood out more to me was the sound of drums in his voice, deep and steady, like the heartbeat of the world. I sang with him, when we faced his ancient foe together, and it's the doom-drum of his voice that gave me a shred of hope to contest the poison song."

Those... sure are words.

cw: messy ex-Catholic feelings

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

Something about all of this - the lesson, told gently and balancing multiple points of view, the reverence with which Drelasa speaks, the way she puts it all into words - it reminds Leon of attending mass when he was younger, when it was all about hearing stories of something beautiful and powerful and bigger than himself. It's not the same, obviously, a preacher at the pulpit versus hearing a woman from another world tell him about her own experiences in a corner of a noisy tavern, but there's a common thread through both that he doesn't expect, that tugs at something he's buried deep in him.

"That... sounds like it must've been incredible," he says, after a moment's silence to take it in. "Meeting an ancestor, like that. I don't think anything like that happens back where I come from. If there's any angels or spirits watching over us, they don't... make themselves known."

And they aren't doing a very good job of it, he thinks, a little petulantly. But his own long crisis of faith isn't the point, here.

[misbegottendreamer]

"Your spirits may be more like the Aedra, beloved of our cousins, the Altmer. Those spirits were the ones who shaped our world, but through their efforts, they grew tired, and entered a sleep immeasurable. That is why my people, the Dunmer, prefer to focus on devotions upon the Daedric, for they remain waking and able to engage with us."

"And... yes. Speaking with Shor, singing with him, was profound beyond words. It stirred something in my heard that has laid buried in ash for a long time."

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

"Yeah... maybe."

In another time and place, Leon thinks he might be willing to believe that something out there was guiding his steps out of Raccoon City, and not just pure dumb luck. There were definitely enough times that he absolutely should have died in that hell, and only survived through what a more faithful man would call a series of miracles. But as it stands, he can't bring himself to think that. It feels... arrogant, to believe he had anyone's favor when so many others clearly didn't.

But hey. That doesn't mean that's the way of things everywhere else in the wide multiverse.

"I can't even begin to imagine," he says, quietly. "Been a long time since I felt anything even sort of like that. What was this enemy of his, though? If you don't mind telling me."

[misbegottendreamer]

She tenses up, her voice hushed and her tone heavy.

“The Sharmat… the Poison Song. He puts a star into the mouth of the world to kill it. He is older than time, older than music. He is a blight that makes all things like him. He offers a false world and calls it true, and that place is resplendent and full of plenty. But it is a hollow world, a house of ashes. The Sharmat is a desire that swallows the heavens and the earth, and stills the world song.”