I've just finished running a Delta Green campaign, and am a month deep into running See It Descend Into, so there has been little time for posting - so, I threw things at Locheil until they told me something to write about, on a time limit because it's funny.
The Isle That Was Barymeas
O, woe upon those long-dead giants, struck down when that terror Gravity put her hands upon their bones to make way for lesser sorts. For even those who carved the mountains cannot stand up to the square-cube law.
While the rest of their kind sank into the depths long ago, Barymeas was fortunate enough to pass away in what, to them, was a waist-deep mire. So, even now, their grandeur can be seen.
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Upon Barymeas humankind has built their first cities, separated by miles of calcified earth and tumorous trees. To the north are the great towers of the City Consumptive - open to the mouth of Barymeas, mining their teeth for toolwork and their tongue for clothing. Soon their lord is doomed to die, after years of listening to the giant's whispers day and night - i could have warned you, i could have warned you, i could have warned you.
His heirs are varied in height and hair, but all worse than the last. Already, they abandon their father to creep into homes in the night and abduct the occupants to transcribe Barymeas's messages, certain this will protect them.
But the City Consumptive could not live on its own - off to the west is the City Dextrous, of silk weavers and net fishers. Barymeas transitioned past being "meat" decades ago, but the fish still come, and still change. You do not, could not, recognize them - they are not your brethren.
The ships no longer leave sight of land - those that do vanish, and those that return are no longer crewed by the people who left.
But even when ambition is punished, it will not be stopped. South, in the City Motile, they set to work building a great vessel with sails, and wheels, and burning coals. Every year Barymeas twitches and the waters come to drown the city, and so every year they pace to the other of the isle's feet. It is said that every king and queen the City Motile has had is inside that great vessel, living long after death and guiding its builders.
Those of the City Dextrous wish to burn the vessel, certain that passing this many people over the horizon will lead to a terrible retribution. The lord of the City Consumptive wishes to steal it, to sail down into Barymeas's throat before he dies, and see the truth of what he's been told.
To the east is the Land of Strangers - but they are human like any other. Upon Barymeas's hand they graze sheep and goats, and wear crowns of woven grass. Their hand was the last part of them to die, as Barymeas was the inventor of them, and would not be betrayed by their creation. So, dozens of feet down the Strangers cut, to see the blood of the last living piece of the last dying giant pulse. And the blood says i can still curse you, i can still curse you, i can still curse you, i can still curse you.
