11: Kh'nyzzeyn

Who sings now the flesh ballad of sacrifice in the threads of Mir-Ghal'ai? Who summons the great Kh'nyzzeyn? We scent you, creature; we sense your presence.

Beware!

We swim the snow tides of Shuru-Bau; we fly the rocky cliffs of the dead. Do not you idly disturb the great Kh'nyzzeyn, be it at dear peril.

Stronger are ourselves than your puny frame can encompass. Your mind is too small, creature, for the enormity of us. With what seek you to pay our way? To buy us must be great expense.

We care for no jewels, whelp! Dull stones be all about us in the Heartless Lands. Do we call you for such trifles? Prepare to evaporated be!

Yet, blood. We scent it, creature. Is your own? Is?

And flesh. Oh yes, the taste we know. Resonant with yearning, with sorrow. Nothing there is like it. Is your own? More, is there?

Always more.

For this we might deign to attend. Giving no honour, creature! Giving no quarter. Acknowledge we not your summons; you are but creature. Flesh, only flesh. But attend, at our whim. Yes, we might deign.

Who summons the great Kh'nyzzeyn? Be it at dear peril! We take your proffered flesh, our appetite decrees, but not the stone! Filthy stone! Begone! Flesh and blood only.

Flesh and blood!

At our whim, we might deign. The great Kh'nyzzeyn; giving no honour; in the threads of Mir-Ghal'ai. The flesh ballad of sacrifice. Sing on creature. Sing on.

Beware! We might deign!

Creature, we might deign.
Posted by matt at November 11, 2004 12:09 AM