Carnasaur
Nazqua
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Part I
It was here, among the looming bookcases and spiralling corridors my descent began.
With so many collections of books, of tomes and other literary mediums, those both private and public gathered in such number the smell of parchment and of dust was laid thick, overpowering even - The scent seemingly seeping its way throughout the buildings interior, worming its way into its shadows, into its walls and even the gaps between them.
The Grymcott libraries were extensive and ancient too, there was no doubt about that. Having been built ages since past the very history of this reservoir of knowledge is clouded and unspoken ... Ironic, one would suppose, to think a place of generation spanning records, accounts and books of all kind, be that truth, lore or myth all the same would have its history lost, hidden in a spiral of rumours - of which there are many:
Some suppose that the library began its first days as one solely owned and private to meet the desires of a deranged man made half-mad in his pursuit of knowledge, others speak of.. More concerning origins... whispers of it having been claimed from the rasping hands of a Necromancer-Wizard, its very foundations constructed upon a series of long lost catacombs and tunnels, the interior of which was stuffed with great mounds of remains from some forgotten plague. Through all these rumours, they were dubious at best - each and every being as disregardable as the last… that was however up until that fateful night.
My shift by now had dragged on for what appeared to be hours, and felt like them too. Night-shifts. They were unrivaled in their unpleasantness, and no, not because of the deep pitted silence that ruminated the libraries and its shadow ridden corridors or the darkness which crept froth from which, waxing and waning as the lantern light drove it back - For I had long since gotten used to all of that in my long years of service, the real trouble you see, it came in the form of a mind numbing boredom. One which lasted from sunset to sunrise, the hours between which I would spend stationed here, tasked with keeping the volumes safe from ‘intruders’ and to slowly worm my way around its bookshelves, dusting and caring for them.
I had long since however forgotten the latter part of my duties. These papers, family records and private letters - They would never see the light of day, let alone feel the warmth of human hand. As for their safety, well, I was almost entirely ensured of that… In all my years here, none, none have ever tried to steal, let alone force entry into these libraries, besides, more than half the town was illiterate, stupid, if you wiill. Sure, I could read, but I was never the reading type. Perhaps thats why they chose me over the others for this job after all.. One thing was for sure, too many of my years had been spent wasting away within that acursed place. Had I not resigned to my fate so easily I could have been so much more.
However, as I was saying, the night was long, perhaps even longer than normal, at least it seemed that way. A green, eerie glow had painted the buildings weathered exterior, illuminating it in a sickly light - one born from Morselb. The chaos moon was high this night. Though, it made no difference, Chaos and Magic were so sunken and weighed down with both oppression and religious dogma that they need not have existed, only rearing their long since disregarded heads to force my hand on extra shifts every so often.
Having paced the halls not once, but twice, my entire frame was now wracked with exhaustion, my head throbbing with well warranted tiredness, each passing thought as fleeting as the next. Not to mention the fact that my remaining willpower had been exhausted through clutching the motivation of taking a nap. Which now, laying my head against the treated wood of a tucked away bench, had never felt like a better idea. Within but a handful of minutes my vision had begun to slowly fade as the kingdom of sleep welcomed me through its gates once more.
My waking and departure from those dreaming worlds however, was not the easy or effortless task that my entry had once been...
Suddenly I jolted upwards. My breaths heavy with suspense. My ears pricked with the sound of a loud bang, the echoes of which still reverberated throughout both my skull and the hall, each fraction of sound now lost in its reams of shelving.
A chill tingling in my spine I quickly forced myself to silence, scrambling up to lean over the balcony of the second floor and peer down into the gloom, painstakingly watching the darkness. I was not alone. The gentle vibrations of what I could only describe as footsteps disturbed the air, their sound, uneven and undulating, perhaps twisted into whispers as they echoed. Even still, I watched with an intensity unequaled, my eyes slowly adjusting as the unrecognisable shadows and shapes formed themselves into imaginary faces, and figures - The buildings many shadows had now interlocked themselves into a dance with the pale lime light which leaked through the dust coated windows, moving, as if shadows not at all...
Something was not right and both me and my body knew it. Adrenaline circulated my veins as I resisted the urge to call out or wail - my animalistic instincts instead manifesting in the form of an odd feeling of bravery. Cursing, I riffled through my pockets, scraping a match to light my lantern before pacing forward, scanning the hall for any signs of movement…
There was however none.
Still on edge, I gathered my senses, preparing to do a quick circuit around the building, having managed to convince myself that the building was in fact slowly collapsing, the occasional sound being entirely explainable by the work of time and long years of neglect - However, as it often does, suspicion had taken root, and was now slowly gnawing away at my sanity with each passing loop or turn, gorging itself upon my fear.
It was here. Awaiting me in the half-light. Driven to the sound of my beating heart amongst the silence that I found it. My doom.. And my Salvation. A solitary book interrupted the corridor, Its blank, worn covered surface urging me to lean down and open it....
The air around me humming with whispers I swatted away the settling dust from where it had fallen and the dense darkness with my hand and lantern both. An unnatural coldness stung the tips of my fingers as I grasped the books tattered covers - The surface of which felt rough and wrinkled, yet subtly smooth and supple. It was a recognisable feeling, but one that felt almost entirely alien. To me it was equally reminiscent and sinister, inspiring a sensation of both admiration for the craft which had been poured into its production, but also a sense of unease, for in all my long years I had never felt a cover such as this one.
If only I could see as I can now, If only I was as wise as I am now… I would have known this was no ordinary book just from its look alone.
But alas, a burning curiosity, an ambition one which could be neither quenched nor sated now burrowed its way within me, spreading out from my fingertips like a tumour… from this point onwards, my will was no longer my own - to even call it 'Mine' would be to make a mockery of all that it would soon become, and with it, so too was my soul...
It was here, among the looming bookcases and spiralling corridors my descent began.
With so many collections of books, of tomes and other literary mediums, those both private and public gathered in such number the smell of parchment and of dust was laid thick, overpowering even - The scent seemingly seeping its way throughout the buildings interior, worming its way into its shadows, into its walls and even the gaps between them.
The Grymcott libraries were extensive and ancient too, there was no doubt about that. Having been built ages since past the very history of this reservoir of knowledge is clouded and unspoken ... Ironic, one would suppose, to think a place of generation spanning records, accounts and books of all kind, be that truth, lore or myth all the same would have its history lost, hidden in a spiral of rumours - of which there are many:
Some suppose that the library began its first days as one solely owned and private to meet the desires of a deranged man made half-mad in his pursuit of knowledge, others speak of.. More concerning origins... whispers of it having been claimed from the rasping hands of a Necromancer-Wizard, its very foundations constructed upon a series of long lost catacombs and tunnels, the interior of which was stuffed with great mounds of remains from some forgotten plague. Through all these rumours, they were dubious at best - each and every being as disregardable as the last… that was however up until that fateful night.
My shift by now had dragged on for what appeared to be hours, and felt like them too. Night-shifts. They were unrivaled in their unpleasantness, and no, not because of the deep pitted silence that ruminated the libraries and its shadow ridden corridors or the darkness which crept froth from which, waxing and waning as the lantern light drove it back - For I had long since gotten used to all of that in my long years of service, the real trouble you see, it came in the form of a mind numbing boredom. One which lasted from sunset to sunrise, the hours between which I would spend stationed here, tasked with keeping the volumes safe from ‘intruders’ and to slowly worm my way around its bookshelves, dusting and caring for them.
I had long since however forgotten the latter part of my duties. These papers, family records and private letters - They would never see the light of day, let alone feel the warmth of human hand. As for their safety, well, I was almost entirely ensured of that… In all my years here, none, none have ever tried to steal, let alone force entry into these libraries, besides, more than half the town was illiterate, stupid, if you wiill. Sure, I could read, but I was never the reading type. Perhaps thats why they chose me over the others for this job after all.. One thing was for sure, too many of my years had been spent wasting away within that acursed place. Had I not resigned to my fate so easily I could have been so much more.
However, as I was saying, the night was long, perhaps even longer than normal, at least it seemed that way. A green, eerie glow had painted the buildings weathered exterior, illuminating it in a sickly light - one born from Morselb. The chaos moon was high this night. Though, it made no difference, Chaos and Magic were so sunken and weighed down with both oppression and religious dogma that they need not have existed, only rearing their long since disregarded heads to force my hand on extra shifts every so often.
Having paced the halls not once, but twice, my entire frame was now wracked with exhaustion, my head throbbing with well warranted tiredness, each passing thought as fleeting as the next. Not to mention the fact that my remaining willpower had been exhausted through clutching the motivation of taking a nap. Which now, laying my head against the treated wood of a tucked away bench, had never felt like a better idea. Within but a handful of minutes my vision had begun to slowly fade as the kingdom of sleep welcomed me through its gates once more.
My waking and departure from those dreaming worlds however, was not the easy or effortless task that my entry had once been...
Suddenly I jolted upwards. My breaths heavy with suspense. My ears pricked with the sound of a loud bang, the echoes of which still reverberated throughout both my skull and the hall, each fraction of sound now lost in its reams of shelving.
A chill tingling in my spine I quickly forced myself to silence, scrambling up to lean over the balcony of the second floor and peer down into the gloom, painstakingly watching the darkness. I was not alone. The gentle vibrations of what I could only describe as footsteps disturbed the air, their sound, uneven and undulating, perhaps twisted into whispers as they echoed. Even still, I watched with an intensity unequaled, my eyes slowly adjusting as the unrecognisable shadows and shapes formed themselves into imaginary faces, and figures - The buildings many shadows had now interlocked themselves into a dance with the pale lime light which leaked through the dust coated windows, moving, as if shadows not at all...
Something was not right and both me and my body knew it. Adrenaline circulated my veins as I resisted the urge to call out or wail - my animalistic instincts instead manifesting in the form of an odd feeling of bravery. Cursing, I riffled through my pockets, scraping a match to light my lantern before pacing forward, scanning the hall for any signs of movement…
There was however none.
Still on edge, I gathered my senses, preparing to do a quick circuit around the building, having managed to convince myself that the building was in fact slowly collapsing, the occasional sound being entirely explainable by the work of time and long years of neglect - However, as it often does, suspicion had taken root, and was now slowly gnawing away at my sanity with each passing loop or turn, gorging itself upon my fear.
It was here. Awaiting me in the half-light. Driven to the sound of my beating heart amongst the silence that I found it. My doom.. And my Salvation. A solitary book interrupted the corridor, Its blank, worn covered surface urging me to lean down and open it....
The air around me humming with whispers I swatted away the settling dust from where it had fallen and the dense darkness with my hand and lantern both. An unnatural coldness stung the tips of my fingers as I grasped the books tattered covers - The surface of which felt rough and wrinkled, yet subtly smooth and supple. It was a recognisable feeling, but one that felt almost entirely alien. To me it was equally reminiscent and sinister, inspiring a sensation of both admiration for the craft which had been poured into its production, but also a sense of unease, for in all my long years I had never felt a cover such as this one.
If only I could see as I can now, If only I was as wise as I am now… I would have known this was no ordinary book just from its look alone.
But alas, a burning curiosity, an ambition one which could be neither quenched nor sated now burrowed its way within me, spreading out from my fingertips like a tumour… from this point onwards, my will was no longer my own - to even call it 'Mine' would be to make a mockery of all that it would soon become, and with it, so too was my soul...
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