At that first creak in the walls Tilda knew something was up. Being a curious and adventurous little girl, of course she needed to investigate. What she finds is puzzling, shocking, and horrifying.
A dark and misty view. Howls of creatures ancient and horrible tear through the sky. The heavy smell of rot and ammonia invade the nose.
Since the dark days of Yoram—twisted roots of herbaceous creatures, now woody vines—they have lived quite contentedly aloft in the middle-air chambers of this planet, looking down, through the veneer of sky, sometimes descending, dropping wildly from their enchanted paradise to move and mingle among the lower quarters where the groundlings live. Oscillating at frequencies well beyond the groundlings' sensory perceptive abilities, the goings on in this realm is noticed only through the external vibrations of nature's forces. Resident force, BaØ, has of late been stomping about, moaning and groaning and bellowing loud as thunder as he quests once more to find his lost love, Atrikka, vanished long ago to what foul intent cannot be known. The passing of laws allowing one to rise to the elementals of middle-air allowed beings such as BaØ and his kin, the pleasures inherent in looking down upon the scurrying human specks while stomping about on legs not less than ten feet in height though more often approaching heights of triple digits.
One it seems cannot find contentment with less when more is so grandly attainable.
Universally acclaimed sisters of sky, Manticore and Meretricia, do endow through their implacable hair weaving more damage and horror than that attainable through more provincial means. Yet, coexist they do with the reigning Plorites from on high, silently simmering in treacherous gentleness, and by this means deepen malignity's dark dye.
When hairs do weave will children grieve; when BaØ does tumble grounds folk crumble.
Pity the poor little thing that wanted only to be a hot mess of the groundling horde, but was cast against stone and blaze as Meretricia, avenger of the forsaken (Attractive in a superficial vulgar manner but without real value, seemingly significant, but actually insincere or false).
Words against groundlings:
CARACAS, Venezuela: A city where motorcycle riders roar down sidewalks, buses drop passengers in the middle of busy streets and drivers treat red lights and speed limits as suggestions rather than orders.
All are in deep dread of Sliggans. BaØ.
Now, this temple frets them, and this impiety does wish to crush the GoDD they have abjured. To ruin them no snare she can devise will be unwrought. Sometimes she pities them, and frequently she even praises, and affects for them a treacherous gentleness; and by this means deepens malignity's dark dye. For two days buried in a dark chagrin she was witnessed, and yesterday watched her eye flash on this holy place a furious glance, as if the depths of this vast edifice concealed GoDD’s avenger armed to punish her. There is little doubt it is on them her wrath is to burst; and that the cruel Meretricia will assail their GoDD, even in his sanctuary.
Even GoDD, say they, withholds himself from them: So jealous, formerly, of Hilja's fame, he sees, unmoved, their grandeur crushed to earth, And, in the end, his mercy's wearied out: No more, for them, his terrible arm is seen to awe mankind with marvels numberless: The ark is mute, its oracles unspoken.