Siurlang and the Demon

The tengu said to call his name
The lord said call his name
And call we did, three times the demon's name
To us we called his name
And come he did

All wreathed in anger
Dripping venom
Wreathed in poisonous anger
Poison in his touch
His angry touch
With poisoned mind and hateful touch
He came to us.

And three did go into his heart
With sweet Sarenrae's sainted touch
To wash the poison from this place
Into the fountain at his heart
With all the hands of sweet Sarenrae
Three did go into his heart

'No!' did the demon say
'No!' once again his poisoned tongue
As he began to boil in anger
And in pain
As sweet Sarenrae's touch
Did work to cleanse the poisoned fountain at his heart.
'No!' as he did become aware
Of those three in his heart, alone
And swiftly gating to his heart
He went.

And those three at his heart
Beset by plague and vermin
Pestilence and death
Those three who reaching deep into his heart
To touch him with Sarenrae's sainted hands
To those three did he come.

And even as the plague was boiled away
And even as the demon boiled with death
He looked down on those three and he did smile
For they were three alone
Those three alone
Beset by vermin, plague and death
And though they valiant remained
The demon smiled
For they were done
For he had come.

'No!' said Siurlang.

'No!' said Siurlang
Though she lay upon the poisoned ground
'No!' said Siurlang
Though her wounds had laid her low
'No!' said Siurlang.  'No!'

Siurlang said to call his name
The mage said call his name
And call she did, three times the demon's name
To her she called his name
And come he did

All wreathed in fury
Wrenched out from his heart
With victory wrenched from out his poisoned claws
And knowing he had lost
The demon came with fury when he came
And with his fury rend Siurlang in half
When to Siurlang he came

And scream did he in rage but it was done
And in a fury havoc did he cause
And in his death throes devastation wrought
And as he boiled he chaos brought to bear
On those who stood against him even now
On those who in the fountain cleansed his heart
On those who on the stairs had called his name
On those who in the Downward stood against
But in his impotence his rage did naught
For Siurlang called his name
And he did come
And it was done.

Shades 007: Fuckin' Miracles

Well. There ain’t really a way to rearrange the words into a saner combination.

Today, under the sanction o’ the Great Downward Engineerin’ Company, an aspirin’ necromancer about as magical as elfshit brought a dead human back to life. And the guy ain’t no zombie or vampire or whatever corpsefuckin’ else the ever delightful Rappun Athuk makes possible. Our new friend Asa the freshly reformed bandit’s all walkin’, talkin’ and breathin’ like there ain’t no tomorrow, which for a spell was uncomfortably true for him. Karina was especially ecstatic to see her husband returned, and Javier was pleased to have his best mate alive. Barrick’s somethin’ o’ a black sheep amongst that lot, havin’ not been all that close to his comrades in banditry before we up and blundered into their lives, but he seems to have lightened up a mite.

Hopefully now the lot o’ them will take the gesture as a sign o’ good trust. Past few days musta been somethin’ wretched for them, but it weren’t no leisurely stroll in the woods on our side either. It does have a bird thinkin’ though. Accordin’ to that scrap o’ paper that bookworm Bent handed me, I’m the Lord o’ these parts. I ain’t no political weasel or lawmaker but I’d wager that means if made the effort to get that title recognized I might be able to make some changes to how petty crooks are handled.

This whole spectacle was Agamemnon’s idea, admittedly. Half-orc mongrel’s been usin’ his downtime to investigate our friend Ulmann. I don’t blame him the creepy bonefucker is almost as suspicious as ol’ Bristleback. Accordin’ to Aggs he ain’t actually as downright evil as his hobbies suggest. The man’s just terrified o’ the inevitable big sleep awaitin’ everyone on this mortal coil unfortunate enough to be born a mortal, perfectly understandable really. If guy has to poke some bones and sing some shifty chants to unlock eternal life then that ain’t really huge price to pay at all.

The service with Ulmann today marks the beginnin’ o’ a longstandin’ agreement between him and the Great Downward Engineering Company. Agamemnon has somehow coaxed the necromancer into agreein’ to offer his services at a third o’ his standard price, includin’ these amateur resurrections. As payment we’ve agreed that we’ll hand him any necromantic items we sift outta Rappun’s guts. Sure the feathers on my ass it’ll piss off any potential Great Downward recruits dabblin’ in such dark dank arts, but I ain’t gonna worry about recruits I don’t have when there’s cheap tickets outta death on offer.

So a bird earns his own roost without havin’ to even steal a copper, and a dead man lives thanks to the magic someone else ain’t got the capacity to wield. What can I say we’re made o’ fuckin’ miracles up in this godsforsaken castle. The plan tomorrow is to set foot in the Mouth o’ Doom- if I don’t write again it means some asshole don’t think their boss is worth even 1000 gold. Fair fuckin' enough I guess.