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Vorcil

Vorcil wrote: »

Et'Ada, Eight Aedra, Eat the Dreamer

[Transcribed from a spore-dream of an unidentified, evaporating Moth Priest that reached zero sum.]
The Aedroth Aka, who goes by so many names as to perhaps already suggest what I'm about to commit to memospore, is completely insane. His mind broke when his "perch from Eternity allowed the day" and we of all the Aurbis live on through its fragments, ensnared in the temporal writings and erasures of the acausal whim that he begat by saying "I AM". In the aetheric thunder of self-applause that followed (nay, rippled until convention, that is, amnesia), is it any wonder that the Time God would hate the same-twin on the other end of the aurbrilical cord, the Space God? That any Creation would become so utterly dangerous because of that singular fear of a singular word's addition: "I AM NOT"?

That all the Interplay is one flea of assertion on a wolf of naught, and that every experience (that is, everything) born from that primal wail would cascade unto the echo-need of hologram, each slice the same except for scale, and all the magic that would need to spring forth just to hold it together at living, divine cross-purpose, support struts made from the need to exist (axial, along its two-headed fighting rays, each refusing their origin point, that is, Tower), terrestons versus chronocules, and in the end (an end that ever refuses to hold) it all becomes a lobotomized (for what is not lobal if not the dracochoreography made flesh?), reptilian (coiled), and massive map-god (holding a compass, holding a timepiece), drooling (the water from which we dragged ourselves out of to say, mirror-like, autochthonic, automatic, "WE ARE, TOO") on his countless knees, dementia given dimension, dimension dementia...

[At this point all transcription becomes impossible, except by way of sheet music, an orchestration of which was attempted during the reign of [NUMINIT], who, along with everyone else in the symphony's radial madness, was vaporized by adjacentia. The requisite adachimelic holding-tendrils activated, preventing Imperial collapse. Imposthumously, the Amulet of Kings granted to the "Coccoon Council" that the spore-dream "et'Ada, Eight Aedra, Eat the Dreamer" be immediately stored in the one thousand and eight Cyrodilic weapons of rapture.]

Aedric Lullaby;


The Dragonless Aka, mothless priest wings,
Adorned by no Council, worn by the Kings;

Chronicles shattered, lost was the way,
endless existence, dreamless my pain.

The tendrils they hold me, for infinite time,
preventing the dreamer, the lord of the Nine;

Nirn holds her weapons, one thousand and eight,
go back to sleep now, cocooned is your fate.

Vorcil

The first and last Elderscroll; transcribed by Vorcil of the Dagger.

Prepared now you should be, for I will begin,
to unravel this lost lore, for which you will grin:



White gold tower, Imperial pride,
yet you may not know, the secret it hides.

Encircling around, Aetherial shower,
are two nested wheels, of Infinite power;

Harnessing Mundus, energy sublime,
churning away, since beginingless time.




Alduin's nemesis, known as Godhead,
recorded 'pon scrolls, you may have once read:

Depicted on Akaviri mural, blowing his horn,
"When the wheel turns upon the last Dragonborn"



So who turns the wheel now? You may want to know;
deeper we go now, more complex this grows:

Dual headed Aka, split into two,
the time god, the king, always aspects anew.



Lorkhan my brother, from end to the start,
always fighting himself now, that's why he ripped out his heart.



The Oversoul of Lorkhan, stretches so far,
the Dragonborn and Talos, all avatars;



The flame and the fire, also has many,
aspects of Dragons, he didn't tell you did he?



The Dragon and heartless, forever in battle,
The wheel keeps on turning, waning his mettle.



Schizophrenic Godhead, is split into two,
Vestige you're known as, which one are you?

If you're beginning to realize, how deep this will get;
you should quit right now, before you lose your head.



He tried to prevent, the wheel from turning;
anchoring it down, the worm king's attempt,

He didn't achieve power, he was not of the two,
a good attempt he had though, now it's up to you.



Lost now you should be, much have you gained,
inkless my feather, endless his reign.

[The Elderscroll's original revelation:]
When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world
When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped
When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles
When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls
When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding
The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.

RinOkumara

Are you ok? This is the weirdest thing i have seen on the forums.

Vorcil

RinOkumara wrote: »

Are you ok? This is the weirdest thing i have seen on the forums.

I once dreamed of a skeleton, breastfeeding a priest of Arkay.

jarnkoldur

I stood before a mirror,
Yet, no image was reflected.
I asked the mirror why I couldn’t see myself,
The mirror replied, “You aren’t expected.”

jarnkoldur

Greetings ser,

As you mention that you are a bard; one willing to write a song for no payment. I request a song for mine order, that the Order of Vagrant Hounds. An order composed of the common folk of Tamriel seeking to repel the oppression of Oblivion.

Would it be feasible?


-Jarnkoldur

Vorcil

Climbing the Tower, by Vorcil of Daggerfall;

Trinimac the liar, of a truth that was grand,
of a tri-angled complex, was hard to understand;

Boethia smite him, in front of us all,
The Daedra who aren't known nor to honour they call.

Not the house of Telvanni, nor the stars could explain,
the endeavour their emissaries, the Psijics are famed;

Lost are the Dwemer, their instruments still hum,
zero are their rights, uncalculable their sums.

This mountain of knowledge, fungal the growth,
Lorkhan the saviour? Or Akatosh our host.

Vivec can't show you, lost are his songs,
look at it sideways, the changed ones have sung;

The tower you must climb, decisions you make,
thoust all shall prepare, for the next dragon break.

covenant_merchant

As much as I joke about roleplaying, this is actually very pretty. Keep up the good work, comrade.

Vorcil

THE BLACK ELDER SCROLL VI by Vorcil of the Dagger;

He spoke in many tongues, and many battles were fought,
he mantled the power, that the dark ones had sought.



Disciple of Lorkhan, greatest yet he was,
the archers he brought, due to Numidium cause.



Nirn, naught left to conquer, endless the Imperial horde,
the Wolf Queen, forlost, their child did abort.



The Black Lords of Golden Isles, waiting to strike,
The White-Gold Concordat, signed with bloodiest might.



Their reign comes to all, Crusader and Mage,
never to be satisfied with death as her cage.



Mundus shakes now, with such ferocious of plots,
erasing the unworthy, for time to know not.



Perish or prosper, in a world turned gold, black,
pray that the Nine, may not turn their back.