Showing posts with label pariahs of creation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pariahs of creation. Show all posts

Tuesday, 3 December 2024

Soft-Heads - VotE Development

The friendly Neurovore familiar to so many is only one expression of a much more complex life-form which, over the course of its existence, takes on many forms and roles, most so different to each other that not all realise the fundamental connection between them. 

The Soft-Head is a meta-cephalopodic species which eats only fresh brains and other complex nervous tissues. It can either devour these with its beak, or invert and extend its stomach like a trochomorphid limb to cover and envelop these materials. 

The Soft-Heads stomach is, in-effect, a second brain, possessing a combination of complex digestive milks and an extendible sheath of nerves and cellular-level micro-manipulators. In combination with the secondary brain that forms a layer of the stomach, the Soft-Head not only digests the meat of the brain, but absorbs its patterns. The creature absorbs the memories of what it eats. 

Soft-Head spawn are essentially Squid-Tadpoles which feed on microfauna and any ambient specks of protein. As they develop, they gain the ability to inhabit and parasitise a wide range of bodies; eating the brain, tearing, or cutting off the head, or skull, infiltrating tentacles down the chest to massage the heart back into life and, inverting their stomach to interface directly with the bodies nervus system and, with advanced creatures, simulating the flesh and substance of a hominids head and face with cephalopodic mimicry. 

These simulated heads have no bones, apart from a brain-devouring beak, so their heads are soft. The eyes are always a Squids eyes and hair is difficult to fake. 

It’s hard for them to talk. Keeping the lungs active while also simulating the complex mouth, palette, tongue, throat and breathing apparatus, along with the language and intonation of the living original, is a complex business, so Soft-Head voices are voices are hesitant, breathy, whispery, sometimes choking or clotted. 

Though there are cults of soft-heads that specialise in the hyper-specialised combination of skill and magic required to actually simulate a known person, it’s rare for a Soft-Head to take over a humanoid body with the active intention of replacing or pretending to be that person - that would be an enormous, almost savant level problem, and while the Soft-Heads do possess much genius, in most cases this is spent on practical survival. They take complex bodies so they may leave the water for long periods and gain access to the 'dry world', and to an entirely different, and more complex, range of prey and tactics. 

 

Soft-Head Lives 

As a very general guide, roughly one in four of Soft-Head Tadpoles survive each stage of Soft-Head evolution and become Neurovores, meaning most Neurovore pairings need to produce eight or more spawns over their lifetime in order to maintain the species numbers. 

This also means that fully-functional 'Civilised' Neurovores are incredibly rare in comparison to even their more-developed Wendigo ascendants, and even more so compared to the more primitive Body-Takers and man-eaters etc 

This is why most cultures in the Veins consider the 'Neurovore' and their lesser incidents as, in-effect, different species, even if they have enough knowledge of the Nature to understand that they are one life-form. 

1. Tadpoles. Produced in clouds of a thousand or more. With ‘Wild’ Soft-heads, these are allowed to swim free in the Veins, feeding on whatever tiny or insect prey they can find. If they can survive in the wild, the general development cycle goes something like this; 

2. Frog-Eater. An insignificant small water-predator. 

3. Beast-Eater. Larger and more intelligent, capable of bringing down fish and larger animals if they enter the water, or with very intelligent cases, if they only come near it. 

4. Man-Eater. A Soft-Head capable of hunting organised prey with a human level of intelligence. Something equivalent to a Squid-Tiger. 

?. Body-Taker. At any point in this sequence the Soft-Head may develop its core skill set of destroying or removing the head from large prey and replacing it, using its tentacles and inverse stomach to simulate it. This is a skill, not pure instinct, and must be learned. Some Soft-Heads develop this ability alone, some see it in in the memories of their prey, others may see the fear of it by observing the culture of their more intelligent prey. 

5. Wendigo. A Soft-Head capable of fully commanding the body of a complex hominid and using it to leave the water and predate on land. This is a creature with the living body of the prey-species but the flesh and eyes of the Soft-Head in place of its head. The Soft-Head is usually not yet capable of complex language and flesh-simulation, yet. Many cultures predated upon by a Wendigo-type do not fully connect it to the earlier or later developments of the Soft-Head lifecycle. 

6. Neurovore. A full Neurovore is capable of language and complex thought, more akin to a rare and curious civilised being than a beast. In-effect, this is a ‘person’, of sorts. 

 

 

'Wild' and ‘Domestic’ Soft-Heads 

The creatures are culturally divided by the nature of their raising. Some live wild in the for their whole lifespan, others are ‘raised’ in civilised Soft-Head communities, kept in pools and deliberately fed high-quality neuro-stuff. 

 

Genius loci 

A ‘wild’ Soft-Head that never migrates from its original volume can develop an almost perfect physical knowledge of their historic hunting grounds and of the behaviours, and psychology, of any and all of their prey species - almost a kind of savage love, as a hunter for their preferred  environment, making them likely to become 'Emperor' or 'Game Warden' figures of a particular volume. 

They can become, in the minds of some, an almost-protective, many-faced Demon-God - leading to the proliferation of idols, shrines and sacrifices, (much of which are practically irrelevant to the Neurovore, but may be psychologically or spiritually appropriate, since its selfhood is made up of many memories of the inhabitants of these lands and it will, to some extent, absorb their values. 

The physical and magical abilities of such a 'Genius Loci' will be amongst the highest of all the typical skills of all the developed creatures of that volume. As skilled in war as its greatest warriors, as subtle as its greatest hunters, as intelligent and wise as its greatest priests and shaman, as imbued with magical power as the greatest local magicians it could consume. 

Others will only remain ‘wild’ until they gain enough knowledge and understanding to begin thinking of themselves as something like a 'person', after which they often tries seeking out other Soft-Head communities and integrating with them. 

 

'Domestic' Soft Heads 

'Domestic' Soft-Heads are raised within a Soft-Head community. There is little direct parental interest in young, since all parents produce huge clouds, and in many ways the upper echelons of Soft-Head 'society' are totally insane, but a general survival drive leads to a level of care, though with an attitude towards development that would seem absurdly Nietzschean to most mammals. 

While Domestic Soft-Heads are much more likely to survive their initial development and growth, and while they grow in complexity quickly, fed on the brains and spines of complex organisms by their society, they are generally considered to be psychologically 'weaker' and more likely to fall prey to late-life personality degradation. 

The 'Wild' Soft-Head, while unlikely to survive and develop, if they do succeed, has a very long history of the gradual mastery and consumption of ever more complex organisms at their core, making them psychologically stronger and less likely to fall prey to the generalised Schizophrenia of late-life Soft-Head development. Their adaptation of more complex personalities and memories is more like the popular conception of a ruthless predator 'using' the thoughts and memories of its prey as 'masks' in order to predate more ruthlessly. 

There is something of a cultural gap between 'Wild' and 'Domestics', with 'Wilds' Neurovore fewer in number and considered more 'real' and more 'pure' examples of the species, yet also, by some, less adaptable and less capable of fully understanding alternate points of view. 

 

Cosmopolitan Neurovore 

A fully developed and socially integrated Neurovre will often have a staggering range of knowledge and experience from a wild variety of different hominid and other groups. Fed on the brains of the strongest, the subtlest and the skilled from youth, such a being would be equivalent to a multi-classed Fighter/Mage/Thief/Artisan/Trader etc. 

When considered as skills, there are few things such a Neurovore cannot do, but these skills and memories do not necessarily cohere into a sharper or more coherent self. We might imagine an intelligent but not particularly heroic person with the ability to magically 'use' memories, magic, abilities or talents of wide range of dead people, but not necessarily that impressive on their own, or at their core, being in some sense, a mere shuffler of cards. 

Nevertheless, Cosmopolitan Neurovore do tend to be more 'successful' in terms adventurers can understand. Their higher population allows them to develop specialists, like the classic 'Infiltrator' type, trained and specified to use skill and illusory magic to fully replace and simulate the members of other races. Their more complex and wider ranging interactions with the main economies and cultures of the Veins also results in them having many more resources, and simply in having more interactions with the kinds of things Adventurers are interested in. 

 

Economic Position 

Most ‘Civilised’ veins-polis will have at least one Neurovore. Though rarely seen directly, their store, or home-front will be that of a Butcher-Confectioner; flowers, wreathes and bouquets of the finest meats arranged like cakes. A butcher in the veins is more like a confectioner - prepared protein being so rare and expensive. They are truly artists of meat, meat flowers, meat crowns and spirals, meat-pies etc. (Since they can only eat brains, and these must be living - Neurovore are one of the few Ethnocultures of the Veins which regularly have spare meat. ) 

Their public face will be one or more well-fed, extremely satisfied and competent high-level slaves, often with the cross-skull circular scar of Neurovore person-surgery. The Master will only reveal themselves for high status guests or when their hands-on skills are needed. 

While nominally butcher/confectiners, Neurovore perform a wide range of distinct services, including; Translating, Appraising, Crafting, Doctoring, Surgery of the Body, Surgery of the Mind 

 

Their Only Currency is Brains 

The only currency most Neurovor will accept is that of living, sentient brains, which almost always means the brains of living slaves, (or you could massively overpay in something like Knotsmen debt-threads or Occultum Coins). There can be a sliding scale for the brains of those with unusual abilities, memories and skills. 

 

Skilled Craftsmen, Translators & Appraisers 

With an in-depth memory of a huge variety of different cultures, languages, life-paths and skills, Neurovore are known to sometimes be great craftsmen, sometimes willing to produce the art or artefacts of another race for payment when that race itself might not. (Some call them great 'Fakers', good at producing versions of things, but somehow lacking in the execution.) 

Along with their skill in craft goes a wide knowledge of languages and cultures which makes them excellent and trusted translators, and a general wisdom and neutrality that sometimes sees them called in as appraisers or judges. 

 

Surgeons Of The Body 

Often competent doctors, some Neurovore specialise in Cepahalopod limb replacements; A semi-lobotomised young Soft-Head, specifically bred, is attached to the end of the lost limb and cultured to adopt the behaviours of the original. 

They don't have bones and make bad legs by can be good arms or hands – though they take some time to learn to use and you need to keep them hydrated. (They can also develop half-ideas of their own.) They have less structural support or rigidity but more dexterity and options for multi-directional movement, good for some fencers, climbing, thieves and magicians - who can learn voiceless casting by making sigils with their cephalopod-hand. 

You can also keep the beak and eyes in for extra awareness, and as a handy tool. The longer the limb is attached the more the user can sense through its eyes and the more sophisticated its utility. 

 

Surgeons Of The Mind 

Neurovore Brain-Surgery is much more sophisticated than anything so called in the Bright Lands. 

They begin by peeling back the scalp, sawing through the skull, then peeling back the brain-cowl. They then extend their stomachs into the brain-pan, ‘tasting’ the brain, rolling it in their extendable gut, nibbling and altering. 

This can alter memory and selfhood in sophisticated ways - full personality surgery, (though it’s always easier to take things out than add them in). They can also sustain complex dream states in imaginary worlds - though these are as much a creation of the subconscious of the target as that of the surgeon. 

There is some chance of infection and the skull will need to be fixed back on top and the skin sewn shut, which leaves marks, unless extra cosmetic care is taken to disguise this. 

Also very occasionally the Neurovore will just eat the brain, or maybe parts of it - for them it’s like holding food in your mouth, but not chewing or swallowing, while doing complex work. One needs a brain, after all, to recover from Brain Surgery. 

 

Objects and Treasures 

Neurovore produce a variety of rare and potent philtres and items, often produced from their own milks, or the secretions of their smaller kin, or made of complex weaves of magic and neurochemistry. 

Blank    

(The Protagonist Potion). Very expensive and must be ingested orally. Blank removes all identity from the drinker but leaves languages, skills and abilities intact. The more complex skills you want left - the greater chance of remission. Blank cannot be 'healed' or fixed via magic. Is used by various cultures on their most useful and valuable slaves, or on high status targets in court intrigues 

Skill Philtres

Also very extremely expensive (almost as much in effort as actually gaining the skill would be). These philtres combine complex patterns of understanding and action taken or distilled from living subjects, the core matrix suspended in a concoction that includes micro-soft-heads. 

Reading Books

Written on the finest skin, these works sometimes purport to be ‘ordinary’ books. Woven into their substance are specific mild neurotoxins and milk derivatives, combined with lesser opiates that ooze invisibly from the book when held by warm hands. The text and images within are either direct enchantments or, (more expensive), have such works woven into their text and seeming. These act to create a book which ‘reads’ its reader, and alters them, sometimes in mild but long-term ways, others in more direct ways. The book is usually at least slightly addictive. The longer and more subtle the effect, and the more hidden, the more expensive the book. Sharp and strong effects cost less, but are much more easily noticed by the reader and are more likely to provoke resistance. 

Memory Pearls

Strange curls of gold and pearl containing single thoughts, or even alter-memory selves. More expensive depending on how complete a self you want. These are often used by spies or operatives, those involved in complex intrigues, or as sophisticated torture devices. 

 

 

Neurovore Psychology - A self-of-selves 

Psychologically, Soft-Heads are incredibly strange in comparison to most self-aware life, having almost, clusters of personalities, councils of selves, all unified by a coherent predatory instinct and an 'othering' of brain-possessing individual life forms that forms the true structure of Soft-Head society, (such as it is). 

Mere baskets of floating identity, minds whose selfhoods flow like mixing scents, as timeless as ghosts, whom they often resemble in behaviour, for the Neurovore feed as much upon memories and sentience itself as upon the meat of the brain, and every Neurovore absorbs almost all of the selfhood of whatever it consumes, making them astoundingly, sometimes terrifyingly, powerful and knowledgeable, and also often insane, deeply utterly mad by human standards. 

The greatest threat to a Neurovores survival is its own ever-shifting selfhood and its writhing protean memory 

As neurovore grow from tadpoles most of heir initial meals are of simple beings with simple instincts

and do not present a huge problem to the Neurovores capacity to absorb Selves, but as they grow, they hunger for more complex prey. If they successfully consume them, the neurovore gains the preys knowledge and awareness - making them even more effective at hunting that kind of prey, but this also presents challenges, as more potent and coherent individuals possess powerful senses of selfhood. 

Memory and sentience is not a weight-for-weight matter. Identity orbits around particular experiences, powerful instincts, core philosophies, inherent beliefs, particular attitudes to the world

and central organising memories. A particularly potent and coherent mind with a deep, strong and capacious worldview, and a powerful drive to live, can partially displace the Neurovores 'core' self. 

This is rare, and is, to an extent, a 'self-solving' problem, since the Neurovore is still an obligate cerebrovore and will still be driven to eat brains, and in particular the brains of ever more complex creatures. These complex brains of powerful creatures, in turn, presenting a high likelihood of displacing or fundamentally altering the current Ego. 

 

The Blood Speaks 

Ultimately, as the Neurovore would say, ‘the blood speaks’. All these powerful fractured creatures remain Neurovore, even if they don't realise it themselves. They still need to eat brains and they are still enmeshed in a society of creatures who need to eat brains, and who are not beloved by others, and this society is their main power and source of survival. 

As well as this, the instincts of the older, more nakedly predatory, personality still swim beneath the surface of whichever superego currently thinks it is 'in charge'- putting its own tinge upon the values and worldview of the main soul. 

Each new brain consumed creates a new possibility to shuffle the deck of thoughts, shifting the perceived dominance of the current array of personalities, giving the original 'pure' Neurovore the chance to re-assert control, a newly introduced personality the chance to take the helm, or a variety of other things to happen. 

 

The Men Who Were Thursday 

Still there is a level of power and experience where Neurovore society, such as it is, no longer really works as a coherent racial/species group, as of all those who are very strong, many are no longer themselves, or they no longer believe themselves to be themselves, and are 'faking it', using the memories stored by their 'old' more-pure Neurovore selves to 'pretend' to be a 'real' Neurovore while they believe themselves to be the reincarnated personality of a prey-thing. 

Tn human terms this would be like an Empire being lead by a group of hyper-talented, very powerful schizophrenics, each of which believes themselves to be some other thing, and is only going along with the group on the surface, while following a quite different set of desires and directives. 

This is a kind of 'Man Who Was Thursday' situation as much of Neurovore 'society' half-knows about this already and regards what we would call the schizophrenia problem as more of an element to be managed than a problem to be solved. In fact it’s quite useful in a number of ways.

 

Wednesday, 4 June 2014

Svirfneblin



Svirfneblin

At the edge of the comprehensible world, where darkness sculpts itself an active form, where death is the constant and life the except, what kind of good can exist?

In the delicate curves of their hidden cities the Svirfneblin feel a purpose that strikes like lightning in the tempest of their daily lives. The flame to live is quickened in them and they feed it on the pure rhythms of light and space and nothing else.

They are a people without shouts, without tears, without hopes, without regrets, They value only four things.



LIFE

Svirfneblin prize any living thing above any non-living thing in any circumstances. To them, life is the justification for the world and its true continuity. The spine of reality. All is a fiction. Only life and its laws are authentic. Kings and wealth both fade and die, but life is strong and grows and time goes on in its real continuity. Life is what is real.  Life knows neither good nor bad nor justice as a measure of morals. It simply is and it must be preserved.



ACTION

Svirfneblin culture is built around doing. Speech, description, planning, these are tertiary concerns. The word is just the bodyguard to the deed. Svirfneblin are unimpressed with oratory and difficult to persuade. Even rational description and analysis are sometimes not as effective as might be wished. Deed is the highest and surest of all truths.



LIGHT

Svirfneblin see the Veins as pure space and light, only highlighted by mass. They consider themselves lucky to live here. From their perspective no-one from the surface could understand what space and light truly are. They drown in both. They use space to 'keep things in', they use light to 'see' other things. Space is not a piece of luggage. Light is not an errand boy. Light is, space is. They have their own quality.

Svirfneblin value gems but only for the light within the gem, not the gem itself. Gems are a construction of space and light, not mass. To them, the light is active, alive, it races faster than a waterfall, soundless and eternal.

Their cave-cities are all beautifully carved in unpredictable, yet harmonious curves. Being there fills the observer with a sensation of lightness, despite the difference of scale for larger beings.

To Svirfneblin the body is superficial, accidental. Tone, brightness, occluding or refracting, that is all. The eyes matter to them, not the face. Though they do value worked beauty, they think beauty has all the properties of a real force like gravity or heat, and they treat it as such.


THE DAY

Svirfneblin are present-minded to an astonishing extent. They are intelligent and capable of both planning for the future and interrogating the past, but they do not value these processes for themselves. They are things to be got out of the way. They stand between the Svirfneblin and direct experience of the present moment.

To Svirfneblin the past is dead. It is carrion, the future is nothing. Can you eat it? What is its taste? It is impossible to speak of the future without lying, so as little as possible should be said of it. Today is the deed. They take the present day.

Sunday, 20 April 2014

More glyphs of the Knotsmen

"Person"
(Your personality has been revoked/
you are no longer assumed to have continuity of thought.)



"Request Agreement/
Yes?
(Your ideas are surrounded,
submit.)



"No"
"Denial"
(An attempt to deny is an admision of guilt.)
 
 
 
"Life"




(We prevail/
The debt/
Survival)
 
 
"War"
(Forclosure/
Balancing by force/
give me the fucking money.)


"Disaster."
(Iredeemable contract/
unrecoverable debt/
they died without dependants/
the surface world)


"Mage."
(Spell)



"Soldier"
 (A sword you own that has cut you before/
a military command)
 


"Expendable."
(Collateral damage/
civilian casualties.)


"possibly not"
(The spell before it is cast/
the unspoken line/
the knowledge that you are in the moment just before you incur a debt.)

Sunday, 6 April 2014

Language of the Knotsmen

Scrap Princess has revieved Derro transmissions detailing part of the language of the Knostsman. Our primary human agent has completed a partial translation of these glyphs.)

Almost all glyphs have two (or more) interconnected meanings.

The hooks at the bottom describe the Knotsman's relation towards the subject. The curved lines sprayed upwards show a not directly-stated but equally-necessary and (to them) inseparable attitudede. 


"Request"

 Agree

 (I agree with you/I request from you)



 Demand
 Assist

(I will assist you/I demand from you)



Command
Ally

(We are allies/I command you)

Own
Love

(I love you/I own you)

However the following glyph, the 'please' glyph, has only one arrangement and meaning, though its meaning does exceed the immediate impression.

"Please"
(Your assent has been assumed, recorded and acted upon
any opportunity to state otherwise has passed
you will be held responsible for any failure from this point on
as will your family and dependants.)

The following glyph can be presented direct or inverted.

"Law"
(Legal,
Own,
Legal Ownership
Correct
Good)

"Crime"
(Illiegal,
Stolen,
Free,
Freedom)


The 'dance' glyph is highly contextual.

"Dance"
(Dance
Entertainment
Torture,
Justice
'You will be tortured'
'Give me the following information.)

Some have entirely differnt meanings depending on their arrangement, vertical, inverted, left to right, or right to left.

"Plea"

"Insist"

"I beg you to insist"
('Yes sir'
agreeing with a superior)

"I insist you beg."

"Cosume"
('Consumor'
'Consumed')

"Expel"
('Remove'
'Banish'
'Vomit'
Expel')

"I welcome you back"
('You are now a slave')

"I free you"
 ('Get out'
'You are banished'
Starve this animal to death')

Friday, 17 January 2014

Treasures of the Civilopede 31 to 50



31# Hunted In The Sky
Dense, lined tattoo on the flayed skin of a young girl.
The tattoo is in black on white skin and the nature of the canvas is not obvious until investigated. A single individual hides cradling their face, naked, in a tiny harrow-spot, beneath a hunting sky. The sky itself takes up most of the area. It has clearly been tattooed by someone who has never seen the sky and, hearing it described, regards it as a kind of predatory inverse landscape, seeing too much, following endlessly, knowing all and consuming without trace.

32# Wave Known When
Ink on paper, very small, about the size of a postcard.
A beautiful and powerful image of a black wave with a deep belly of amber and oak-brown. Wave curls dramatically right-left across the image, about to break. A dark ship hangs on its crest, coils of black chain spray from its prow, collared leviathans drag it madly into the surf. Some viewers see a light in the ship. This means they will see the Nightmare Sea before they die. (Painting 75% accurate and many viewers who did not see the light have seen the Sea, leading to some complaints.)

33# Six Silent Stones
Painting, large.
A dinner scene, men of an unknown civilised race sit to eat in a group.  Each schemes against the rest in some secret way, implied or shown directly to the viewer. The wall behind them is made of six separate kinds of highly polished stone. The grain and nature of each stone block has been brought out so perfectly, it seems more real than the foregrounded figures, almost as if you could reach out and touch it. Legend says that one of the seated figures is trustworthy and the nature of the stones provides the clue. Understanding the painting can provide a flash of insight into a possible betrayal.

34# Lady of the Ruined Sun
Yellow jasper, just over a foot high.
Just-over life sized head of an exceptionally beautiful woman. Half destroyed, smashed, leaving half a lip, a cheek and part of an eye. This woman wants to return to the sun and anyone standing in the presence of the statue will dream of the sun when they next sleep. Regardless of whether or not they have seen the sun before.
Or even know what it is. This has driven some mad in their sleep.

35# Elephant’s Trunk
Basalt, original statue about six feet high.
Finely carved trunk of an elephant holding a sheaf of corn. Only remainder of  a long-destroyed temple and last relic of a forgotten faith. Rest of the elephant is gone. Almost no one down here knows what it is, what the corn is, or why it is here. If you told them about elephants they wouldn’t understand.

36# Soldier Meditating
Sandstone, four feet high.
There is no sign of weaponry or violence. The soldier is naked except for a loin cloth, legs crossed, eyes closed, stomach distended slightly in the moment of an intake of breath. Every line is smooth and the selfhood of the described man pushes forth exactly from the sculptures mass, making a perfect and elegant containment of life. All critical hits in the vicinity of the sculpture kill.

37# Coatlicue, Mother of Gods
A stone sculpture, almost three metres high. Her face is two rattlesnakes meeting, their tails become penises and cobs of corn in her belt.  She carries a blouse of severed hands and human hearts over her breasts and a skull over her sex.
Her feet and hands are clawed. She is life and death, birth and grave, the living torrent of destruction that makes up every breath, she is the bomb as it ignites and the heart as it beats, she birthed the sun who killed the moon.

(This one is just a real thing, accurately described.)

38# Creation Phallus
Marble, five feet high.
A stylised erect penis, pointing directly up, carved from black marble. From its tip grows a lotus blossom shaped from polished iridium. The blossom splays out like a radio telescope, pointed at the sky  and dully reflects any available light. The surface of the phallus is polished to a reflective sheen and casts back wrinkled images, especially of the radiating lotus petals above it, which seem to wrap the thing in silver. Sex in the presence of the phallus always results in conception, always of genius children. (Combined INT & WIS never less than 30)

39# Contest Victor
Black Marble, Drow, Life-sized
This statue of a Drow male is missing both arms due to abandonment and use as part of a wall in a later construction. The face has been mutilated. Remarkable for the virtuosity of the folds of silk cloth which fall from his shoulders, wrapping his body highlighting the form with carefully studied grace. The pressure of a touching hand upon the silk, its limb smashed off, is startling. Almost everyone who sees this statue unconsciously reaches out to caress it.

40# The Second Ascension of Lloth
Ebony, 9 metres high, laid at an angle on its back.
This alter-piece or icon was originally placed at the centre of a temple to Lloth. The central diorama shows Lloth ascending into her web as other Elven gods and heroes watch in wonder on either side, weeping and praying, and preying, for joy. Below, three smaller images show scenes from the ‘life’ of Lloth, her birth, her trial and her death and first Ascension. Four panels to either side show scenes from her godhood, her good works and her betrayal.  Rising up from the centre are a series of single figures showing her inevitable victory, her vengeance and the resumption of divine order. The whole piece is arranged upon a carved web/tree whose tendrils interweave and snake off into the most delicate filigree. The quality, delicacy and beauty of the carving has never been matched by Drow culture, or perhaps, by any other. Any damage to this piece will bring the direct attention of Lloth. There is, of course, a significant bounty for its recovery.)

41# A Sealed Door
Blackened oak, 6 feet high.
A freestanding doorway set into a panel of deeply-carved oak. The sinuous asymmetric designs that lock around the door are winding shapes, branches perhaps, or snakes. They seem to feed each upon the other, shadows boil in their interstitial folds. The door itself is deeply set within the wood, often dark. Its surface carries knot-work like the wall, but shallow, graceful and self-reflective. There is no key or handle. The door was sealed with permanent intent. When you go round the back, nothing seems weird.

42# An Attempted Identity
(A rare piece recovered from near a suspected-active Möndmilch Pool.)
Oil on Canvas, roughly half a metre square.
Seems to be the self portrait of a human male with significant signs of Underdark environmental change. Pupils rimless, colourless skin, small growths on forehead and ocular ridge. Staring directly into the viewers eyes. He stands before a white wall and holds an image or locket. Beyond the wall is a lightless city whose windows seem to contain things. The locket, or icon, is open and contains them image of a young man, standing before a wall of stone. Beyond the wall is a lightless city. There are things watching from the windows of the city. The man exhibits signs of environmental damage, lips parched, skin burnt, pupils pin-pricks, some facial abscess. He holds a locket or icon, which lies open in his hands. In the locket is the image of a young man…..

43# Mother with Iron Eyes
Bust of a woman, two feet high, brass and iron.
The face and head of a beautiful and austere woman from a tribe in the Nightmare sea. Her origin surrendered by the elaborate weave of tooth-worm shells around her neck. They are valued only in the Nightmare Sea. Suspected royalty as her eyes have been inset with iron so that they glow with a separate light. (Eye replacement is rare for those tribes and usually only accorded to high-status individuals. Or heroic interlopers.) The softness of her features suggests youth but she wears the squid-ring cheek-scars of a mother.

44# A Discovery (142)
Etching, roughly a4 landscape size.
This etching shows a heap of bodies in a cave. The races seem human but many are only partially revealed. Blood pools from a series of puncture wounds. Alternating uniformity of dress and abandoned weapons on the ground suggest a military engagement. A single figure is pulling another body onto the pile, they figure seems to weep blood, perhaps close to death themselves. It is unclear if this new wound is the discovery alluded to in the title. Only remaining part of a large series, possibly a narrative.

45# Found Out
Oil on a large canvas, at least two metres high and six long.
Large dramatic canvas showing an attempted assault by stealth upon an unseen fortification, presumably Myconid. Two rows of dark figures climb across the shattered surface of a cavern wall. Clearly pioneer companies, they carry dulled weapons, rope and no light. Each group of nine is lead by a figure, assumed to be a magic user, climbing freely without holds. Each figure is in direct contact with one in front. They proceed in a line. Neither group seems aware of the other. The rear soldier of the first group (foreground) has their head tilted back, fungal matter is bursting from their eyes and mouth. The second-to-last figure from the first group is reaching back to check the infected soldier. The second group, (rearground) has been totally mutually consumed and now proceeds as one blind organism, a kind of fungal snake.

46# The Descent
Ink on paper, eight panels, each just under two metres high and one wide.
This sequence shows the annihilation of a people and their descent underground. Moving left to right; naked bodies lie unburied, mothers and children starve, the sky and air seem to weep blood and dark energy, the flowers die in the ground, a woman stands, the shape of her body shown only by the network of almost luminescent blood winding from her scalp. No enemy or cause of these events is shown. Towards the right of the sequence the naked and starving remnants of this people begin their slow descent underground, out of the bleeding sky and into the comforting dark.

47# Knotsmen Marriage Market
Oil on unknown animal skin.
A room made into two cells, the space between them patrolled by an armed guard.
In the first, a series of women stand and sit, some with children, ranging from newborns to about eight years old. In the other cell a small number of males look through the bars. We see from inside the male cell but the distance of the female cell is shrouded in darkness. It is not clear which group is actually imprisoned, or who, or what, is being sold. Both seem of equal status. The men reach forward or lean against the bars, not all of the women meet their gaze.

48# A Meal In Carcön
Rapidly-executed sketch, pencil on paper.
One page from a notebook holds an artfully sketched scene showing a formal dinner of the Pyroclastic Ghouls. Seven lumpen ash-carved humanoid forms sit round a rectangular table on which plates and silver knives (of several kinds) are neatly placed. Half-sketched figures standing up beyond the seated ghouls might be damaged statues, or something else. The head ghoul reaches for a knife with pumice ash-mitten hands. The others sometimes claw at cutlery which seems to scatter out of their grip, one gouges the table, one lifts a plate and eats directly with its face. The food is overwritten by the pencils tip so many times it is a black blur or scratches and torn paper. (What, or where ‘Carcön’ is, is not known. The name appears nowhere else.)

49# Study for the tomb of a dead saint.
Terracotta Diorama, one foot high.
Five figures arranged around the body of a sixth. These tiny models, (four female, two male) carry the very expression of joy. Each looks down upon the body in the centre, each contains or expresses the deepest pleasure, each in a unique way. Staring, beaming at the observer. Twisting, hand on face, glowing with supressed and hidden joy. One clutches her chest, forced double in laughter. One weeps and reaches to touch. One crouches and stares beaming. The last spins round in an impromptu dance, beautifully delineated folds of cloth whirling around her. The models are separately based and would be quite easy to pick up and steal. It seems that several are already missing, yet there is no means to prevent their removal.

50# Paired Shells from the tomb of Unknown King.
Mother-of-pearl shell, 20ft wide.
One of the greatest statements of power and wealth for the savage human volume-lords that rule for a century or so between the boundaries of eternal powers, is the shell of a ToRaptoise for their tomb. ToRaptoise shells are beautiful, shining mother-of-pearl and immeasurably strong. The ToRaptoise itself never (we assume) grows large enough in the wild for its shell to achieve the necessary size. An alpha must be captured, caged and fed a high-protein diet for many decades before it grows large enough. A ToRaptoise shell tomb is a massive investment of time, money, resources and food. Also it’s a predatory, murdering , gigantic armoured veloceraptor -tortoise. They are a bitch to keep. Only the strongest, longest lasting ruler can possibly afford such a thing. (Though they have been stolen.) It only pays off when they die. This is the only know pair of such shells to exist. Each is carved by masters with the foetal-curled profile of the occupant. A naked King and Queen. They seem at peace.