Quotes
- When Entering Dragon's Roost
- A prison of craving. Captives of desire. A cradle for the contracted.
- My blessing, O one of brief life.
- The witless avert themselves to concrescence.
- After Receiving a Gift
- I exalt thee, and grant repayment for your fatuous undertaking.
- Sublime payment calls for equivalent recompense.
- After Bond Level Increase
- This chance assembly was inexorable.
- You are me. I am you.
- Idle After Bond Level 1
- Ruination is mellifluous. Ruination is the timbre of beauty.
- The darkness of infinitude. Your words are salvation.
- Your domain is an ephemeral dream. A moment's serenity.
- Idle After Bond Level 10
- The collapse of the axiom. The loss of that which guides. A soul, plunged into madness.
- I am immutable. Undying. Thus, in this place, I am.
- Consummate gregariousness. Uncommon light.
- Idle After Bond Level 20
- The abyss in the fathomless. I am emissary of the imprisoned.
- You, unshakable. Your visage blurs with my true desire.
- A moment vacillating in the interstice of dimensions. A dream? Reality? Brumously does it sway.
Dragon Story Episodes
The King in Yellow
Early one morning, a young man
wandered a forest's depths in search
of medicinal herbs. Search he did
until the sun grew old and dim,
yet nothing did he find.
"I must head back before I lose the
light," he thought. Just then a bird
cried out like a most horrible scream,
and a fierce beating of wings could
be heard on the wind.
He cleaved through the brush in
search of the sound's origin, and
soon beheld a bird writhing and
struggling as it slowly sank into a
stone as if it were a swamp.
As the bird was consumed by the
stone, silence fell once more on the
woods. The yellow-green stone was
small and oval shaped, but otherwise
unremarkable in all respects.
Looking around, the young man saw
a number of feathers scattered in the
vicinity, which suggested that what
he had witnessed was no dream.
Enslaved by curiosity, he extended a
hand and seized the stone. He slid it
into his empty herb pouch and made
quick his leave, entrusting the forest
to the ever-stretching hand of dusk.
Illuminated by the lantern's light, the
stone atop his table was even more
beautiful than it seemed in the forest,
and the way it swallowed insects and
small animals alike awed the youth.
The stone consumed any living thing,
but merely enveloped the lad's arm
in gentle pressure when he plunged
his arm into it. It seemed they had
formed a symbiotic relationship.
One afternoon, the youth caught a
large lizard. But when he made to
feed the stone, he realized it was
no longer atop his table.
Thinking he had perhaps knocked it
down, he fell to his knees and
searched the floor, but did not find it.
Feeling indescribable loss, the youth
rose to his feet with tears in his eyes.
Just then, there was a terrible
knocking on his door. When he threw
it wide, he saw a familiar face—a
local shepherd, his face as pale as
a summer's day is long.
"My sheep," he said in a trembling
voice, "they've all up and vanished
in the night. Gone. All gone."
The youth knew the man lived on the
edge of town and kept some forty
sheep—and of course, the word
"vanished" made him think of his
missing stone.
But the youth turned the shepherd
away, insisting he knew nothing.
He then closed the door and looked
back to the table.
The stone was returned, as if it had
never left at all. The youth stared at
it, thinking this must be a bad dream,
and the stone slowly warped in
response, almost as if it was...smiling.
Seeing the stone warp like a
wicked smile, the youth knew
it was responsible for the
disappearance of the forty sheep.
How did the stone move? He did not
know—and had little desire to learn.
All he knew was the stone had to be
disposed of, and that there was
no time to waste.
The youth's first idea was to return the
stone to the forest, but soon realized
his folly—if the stone could move,
returning it to its original location
solved nothing.
Thinking to smash the stone to
pieces, he took a hammer from his
toolbox. Again and again he swung
down upon the stone with all his
strength, but alas! Nary a scratch!
"Perhaps it can be burned," thought
the youth. He lit his fireplace and
tossed the stone into the flames, but
it did not even redden in the heat.
Realizing the stone could not be
disposed of, the youth changed his
plan. He locked the stone in a sturdy
iron casket he used to preserve
herbs and buried it in his backyard.
Thinking there was no way the stone
could escape from a locked iron
casket, he made to put the entire
event behind him.
The following morning, the still-sleepy
youth beheld the stone sitting atop
his table and bolted for the backyard
in a mad frenzy.
He turned up the earth he had dug
the previous day and took out the
iron casket, which was still locked.
But when he removed the lock and
peered inside, the stone was gone.
He began to wonder if he had buried
the casket without the stone and
soon dispelled this notion. But as he
wandered back into his house, he
saw the stone had vanished again.
The youth stumbled out the door,
sending the casket crashing to
the floor. He ran for town in a blind
panic, seeking to tell someone—
ANYONE—what had transpired.
On any usual day, the town plaza
would be bustling—but there wasn't
a soul about. It was almost as if the
town had always existed this way,
alone and abandoned.
The lad knew at once what had
occurred. Seized with despair and
regret for his actions, he plodded
home, each footstep weighted down
by his own endless grief.
As expected, he found the stone
sitting atop his table. Before he
could think, he reached out,
grabbed the stone, and swallowed
it in a single gulp.
A merchant spoke of a strange town
a few mountains' distance from here.
If it were just attacked by fiends or
bandits or claimed by a plague, it
wouldn't be much of a story, but...
The people of this town vanished,
leaving all their worldly possessions
behind.
The merchant thought someone
might return as night fell, so he
borrowed a home and waited.
And though night did indeed come,
the townspeople never did.
Fearful now, the merchant thought
to leave and travel by moonlight.
But sensing something squirming
outside the window, he neither left
nor slept, but simply waited for dawn.
"But enough of such macabre tales,"
the merchant says as he opens an
iron casket and removes a beautiful,
yellow-green stone.
"Unusual, don't you think? Still,
I'd hurry if I was you—a find like
this doesn't come along often!"