An old relic

[Ryan]

I vaguely recall you rambling on about some mn idea related to pyramids or pyramis or something along those lines a long while back... Useless art is simply tolerated vandalism. I am a vandal.

[Funky Wombat]

This is the beginning of...I don't even know what I intended now, it's so long ago. I found it in the beginning of a notebook I use for lecture notes. I should get back to writing a bit more, I enjoyed it:Quote:He opened his eyes. It was dark in the meditation cell he had spent the night in. It was a relic of the dead Pyramodian civilisation, which he still remembred, but more for its people than for the wonders of architecture left in its wake. The cell, which was actually a huge masoned block of stone with the centre hollowed out, was one of only twenty ever made by the maniac founder of the Khaito meditative practice, Pephius. It had come into his possession many years ago. Centures ago, in fact. He had almost perfected the twenty-seventh garang. There were forty garangs in all, which, when mastered, were supposed to render the masterer a khair, with immortality being the major upshot. Since he was immortal anyway, he pursued Pephius' discipline as a sort of hobby. He had been working on the twenty-seventh garang for four years now, and he found it a useful way to prevent days, years, even decades, from blending together.Flexing his entire body, using a mental probe to massage straining nerves and muscles, he stood up, his head still five feet below the round opening at the ceiling of the cell. This was the real challenge of Khaito, getting back out of the isolated environment the discipline was practiced in. Budding practitioners had been found dead inside, huddled skeletons, their pinched faces squinting up towards the chiselled opening perfectly circular, which lay just beyond their grasp. In his more idle moments, he had wondered if Pephius, a mason by trade, had in fact made the cells first, then, when finding himself trapped inside one, engineered Khaito to prevent himself going insane. But this was just fanciful amusement he doubted even one of the Pyramodian "enlightened class" could do something so monumentally stupid.Everyone had their own method of escape from the cell. Everyone who managed to escape, that is. His was just to leap vertically out of it, his Magi senses allowed him such physical exertions. Not even superhuman, since he was not.He braced his knees, and launched himself straight up, executing a somersault and landing, cat-like on the tips of his fingers and toes. Then he straightened up, dusted off his clothes, and took a breath. The Inferno Mage was ready to face the day.He was in his rooms, which doubled as his study and audience chamber. The Tower of Fire, an enchanted building whose outward dimensions by no means reflected those inside, housed his own rooms, three dormitories, for students, instructors and other residents, training halls, armories, a feast hall and a wine cellar (one of the larger rooms) which his predecessor, or at least the last body his spirit had enfused, had installed.His own room was near, but wasn't at, the pinnacle of the Tower. Above it were rooms not many besides himself knew of, which house great artefacts of the Erwyn tribe, including the wreck of the great silver ship they had journeyed to this world upon, of Tyl-Hwamdos the Grey, their saviour.On the walls of his chambers were portraits, some of men, some of women, all Inferno Mages, unquestioned rulers of the Tower of Fire, and spiritual leaders of the Erwyn tribe. His own portrait, which changed with his own appearance, would capture his image in death. Indeed many of the portraits of his predecessors wore pained expressions, or looked surprised, in agony, or otherwise. One, which was usually hidden behind small curtains, had most of the flesh on one side of the face burned away. The penalties of dealing with acid dwarfs. To the left of his own portrait was another portrait, also of himself. He smiled on seeing it, as he always did. Strange that, even magic embued wih his own lifeforce would regard such a trifling matter as falling out of the universe as death. He had not died, of course, but it had been close. The Infernal College at Raelwynn had amost sent a replacement! The nerve! As if one of their number would ever be allowed to rule here! He had been there since the beginning, though he was only a child at the time. He had ridden on the prow of Tyl-Hwamdos, seen the fabric of the Planes themselves.He lost his smile then, remembering the silent wastelands, where things at the edge of vision had seemed to be peering at them, only to disappear when they turned around. A new world, then, full of possibilities. None of the old rivalries, if Gwnyl's spell had worked correctly!It hadn't worked exactly. One other tribe, they had been called sects then, had broken through behind them. The Zufarn. But they were not true foes, not like the Jarnac or the terrible Rno. Why, the two tribes had even co-operated, once..."Jason?". All at once, he was torn from his train of thought by the voice, which came from behind him. He turned around. It was Elder Ffos, who looked no more than twenty, but was really two thousand. "Breakfast is ready in the hall. Thought you might be in the block, so I came up to rouse you."And that's it. Don't know where I'd actually planned to go with this story at all, and I'm not going to attempt to go anywhere with it now. I just enjoyed finding it and reading it again, reminds me of what I used to be capable of on a regular basis.. Eoinsy

[AngelGuardian93]

Tre nifty.Though that getting out part of the pyramid meditation chamber was pretty gross. :P There are no flowers, no not this time. There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find. Edited by: AngelGuardian93  at: 12/13/05 20:55

[Funky Wombat]

I think Pyramodia was invented when Kevin Tennent and I made Dermot Kelly in an effort to show how distrustful the FIoJ had gotten. Boy did that backfire..I always liked my gruesome imagery though. EoinsyEdited by: Funky Wombat  at: 12/14/05 4:12

[AngelGuardian93]

I didn't say it was BAD did I? Just gross. :P There are no flowers, no not this time. There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find.