| Author | Topic: The West Watch (Read 371 times) |
Wild Horse Kai Lord
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Joined: Apr 2004 Gender: Male Posts: 42 Location: Singapore
| | Re: The West Watch « Reply #15 on Mar 15, 2008, 2:09pm » | |
~~~The coastal waters off northern Sommerlund, between Anskavern and Rhorgal Isle ~~~
The
explosion had torn a large hole in the Xargath's body. Ichor was
gushing out from the monster's body as it bellowed out its agony. It
was not long for this world now.
Wild Horse's combined use of
the Elementalism and Grand Nexus disciplines had taxed him greatly. As
he lay on the stern deck, with Illuminatus by his side, knowing not
that the sea serpent was in the last throes of death. some of the crew
members came towards him. Thrashing wildly, its flailing claws churned
the sea water but as it was away from the ships, it only cause a
outswelling of waves which rocked the Green Sceptre and Emerald
Defender.
Wild Horse was out for a short while, but Oripheus
gently prodded him awake and he leaned on his first mate's shoulder,
breathing hard while watching the demise of the mighty sea beast.
With
a last twitch, the Xargath suddenly stiffened, its last cry a long
drawn-out desperate howl of pain. Then with sudden swiftness, it sank,
feet first, into the depth of the ocean, a widely spreading stain of
green upon the sea amidst a swirl of bubbles.
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simey Kai Lord
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Joined: Mar 2008 Posts: 0
| | Re: The West Watch « Reply #16 on Mar 16, 2008, 6:23pm » | |
Something is nagging at Simey's mind.
No.
Something has been nagging at Simey's mind for a while now.
He
didn't notice it at first; in fact, it may have gone undetected since
they entered this place, possibly since they left Hammerdal.
But it's definitely there now; all he has to do is figure out what it is.
Up
ahead, Armadalus is holding up his hand to halt their progress. The
Sommlending stands almost motionless for a moment, only his head
turning slightly as he no doubt makes some manner of incomprehensible
assessment regarding their next move.
Next to Simey, Wise Fox
waits patiently. The faith the Kai seems to have in Armadalus is
possibly even more irritating than the knight himself; apart from being
brave to the point of lunacy in the face of the horrors that they have
encountered here in Eshnar, Simey has been unable to discern anything
that his companion has done to inspire such trust in his leadership.
Quite why Armadalus should have any superior notion as to where they
should be going and what they should be doing than anyone else is a
mystery.
Although things have been quiet for a short while, with
the walking dead and other barely imaginable unliving creatures not
having recently been in evidence, Simey can feel a less tangible danger
approaching, something that will likely make all they have encountered
so far pale by comparison. It is a prospect that inspires naught but
the wish to escape, but the directionless nature of the perceived
threat makes it unclear as to whether trying to physically run away
will have any effect.
The wealth of imponderables surrounding
him suddenly causes Simey to ask himself a very specific question:
would trying to escape this place alone be more or less perilous than
following Armadalus to its heart?
Simey's mind has already tried
to block out any recollection of his terror during the brief period
that he was separated from all the others whom he accompanied to
Eshnar, but it strikes him that facing that fear and abandoning
Armadalus and the Kai to whatever awaits them might be his only hope of
getting out of this dread city alive.
This is nagging at Simey's mind.
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beowuuf Kai Lord
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Joined: Oct 2006 Gender: Male Posts: 640 Location: Basingstoke, UK
| | Re: The West Watch « Reply #17 on Mar 16, 2008, 8:05pm » | |
Eshnar, sometime in the past
The man stood looking to the madness, barely heeding it.
'I am abandoned'
He
had worshiped one as if they were a god. He had given much, maneuvered
much, and had been close to ultimate victory. That he had been struck
down would have been small price to pay if his god-master had risen
because of it. However, the sacrifice had apparently been averted, the
sacred artifact defiled and stolen by the villain who had killed the
man.
'I have failed'
Being raised should have been
a reward, an indication that his master lived. His master did, in the
end, live. This was not, however a reward. Vashna, mightiest of the
Darklords, had apparently broken the bonds of death and the Maakengorge
without help.
'I am unnecessary'
Apparently
Vashna had not cared of those who had perished in his service.
Apparently it took a lich girl to raise him on a whim, a lich girl to
tell the man of his master's triumphant rise a lich girl to mock him
with his apparently uselessness, to bring him back in undeath a
failure, an abandoned failure.
And then, the lich girl had got tired of her new toy, she had wandered off and left him in this nightmare.
'I am abandoned'
Barraka
had been a powerful man, a powerful noble. He had been driven,
disciplined, determined, and most important of all, devout. It had cost
him his position in Vassgonia but it had been worth it, years of his
life and family connections and the betrayal of his closest followers
to obtain the Dagger of Vashna, but it had been worth it.
He
had dwelt on the edges of his sanity and found the calm beyond while
speaking to Vashna, finally worshiping the master of darkness he had
invoked. And that too should have been worth it.
'I am unnecessary'
He
had been betrayed in kind, toyed with by those who did not need him,
those with true power - true power of life and death. Let him live and
die for them, or brought him back to horrible life with barely a
thought.
'I have fa...'
He was alive. He had
gone beyond death and come back to life, as Vashna had. Had something
else, beyond Vashna, rewarded him for his devotion? Naar himself? If
so, then what else could he achieve, what other rewards awaited him.
This power over life and death, the power to bring undeath, was this
also a power he could possess?
'I am abandoned'
The lich had left him alone.
'I am unnecessary'
The lich girl would not miss him.
'I will succeed'
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Wise Fox Kai Lord
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Joined: Jun 2007 Gender: Male Posts: 6
| | Re: The West Watch « Reply #18 on Mar 17, 2008, 4:05am » | |
"Somewhere near Eshnar"
"Pitch black darkness.
A buzzing sound becomes clearer and louder, to the point where it defies the remaining sanity in the man's mind. The
man is Wise Fox, a Kai Master from Sommerlund and a gifted hunter- but
today someone hunted him first, leaving him lying in the ground, the
smell of wet grass being the only recognisable sign of reality that he
can trace.
All that his mind could assemble right now was that
he was walking towards a couple of figures that he now remembered as
being Simey and Armadalus, two of the members from the group that
previously raided Eshnar; then, in less than a second, he was at the
attacker's mercy - both eyes wide open but unable to see anything
beyond the darkness that suddenly fell in his mind.
Kai Lords
are no average humans, and there are many things about them that remain
unknown to all but the greatest of these warriors: this could explain
why Wise Fox didn't died immediately after his first glimpse at what
was going on.
It was his Kai instinct that made him use his
last strengths in a desperate Psi-Surge, forcing the enemy to an
opening; for a brief moment he had a small hope of escaping the
agression.
Then he heard it- the voice.
A voice whose identity was the reason the Kai Lord was now paralised in fear.
It was his own voice."
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simey Kai Lord
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| | Re: The West Watch « Reply #19 on Mar 18, 2008, 2:05am » | |
Somewhere near Eshnar
"Well, how about starting with what you do remember?"
Whilst
Armadalus had, eventually, backed off the subject, the Kai simply
wouldn't leave it alone. Simey twisted his head so that he could not
see Wise Fox and poked with a stick at the fire now burning readily in
the stove. Despite the hut obviously not having been lived in for some
time, they had been lucky enough to find a store of dry firewood, a
serviceable waterskin, a woodaxe and a sizeable, if somewhat mouldy,
sheet of canvas: all things that were either, in the case of the
firewood, already of great use, or would be in whatever journey they
would have to undertake to find civilisation.
"You must be able
to remember something," said Wise Fox. "Anything could be useful - it
might help Sir Armadalus or myself recall additional details."
Armadalus
said nothing, but Simey got the impression that, whilst the knight was,
for the moment, reluctant to press things any further, he was
nevertheless very keen to hear any response that Simey might make. This
mute curiosity was far more difficult to rebuff than the blunt
statements and questions that the Sommlending had subjected him to
earlier in the day. After glaring at length into the flames that were
helping to dry his clothes whilst he was wearing them - a process which
he was reluctantly experiencing for the second time that day - Simey
looked up at his circumstantial companion.
"I remember Kuchek,"
Simey said dully, by rote. "I remember travelling north. I remember
Lujar. I remember Kadan. I remember Ryme. I remember Blave. I remember
arriving in Hammerdal."
"You've said that before," said the patient but insistent voice of Wise Fox. "You need to think further, think deeper."
"I
remember waking up in the grass a few miles from here." Simey's tone
was still flat and he continued to look at Armadalus, not turning to
face the Kai. The knight held his gaze steadily, but made no reaction
to the statements that were becoming something of a mantra.
"But
there must be something in between," said Wise Fox, his voice quieter,
more intense. "The journey from Hammerdal to Eshnar, your companions."
Simey
could feel the irritation in him building to a fury and he was on the
verge of turning on the Kai, unleashing what he hoped would be verbal
assault enough to shut the man up for at least a short while, when his
head suddenly throbbed painfully. He drew a sharp breath and closed his
eyes tightly, willing the sensation away. The discomfort subsided and
he blinked his eyes open. Armadalus' acute gaze was on him, concerned
but eager for something to happen, some chink in Simey's lack of
recollection to be exposed. Simey scowled at him and-
Darkness
again, another agonising twinge; more intense this time, like a knife
between the eyes. Simey gasped and pressed his fingers hard against his
forehead, but this time the pain did not recede, instead pulsing
angrily and ever more violently. He barely noticed as he tilted over so
far that he slipped off the tree-stump stool that he'd been sitting on
and landed on his knees.
Images, tattered and broken, flashed in
his mind, jolting his consciousness at random through past events. The
pain and the visions spun together to form a white, delirious anguish.
He
leant on the stove and burnt his hand. He cried out, but the pain in
his head vanished. He opened his eyes, feeling dizzy and slightly sick.
Armadalus looked shocked, but hadn't moved to help him.
"I
remember," growled Simey, recalled images burning like sunspots on his
vision, his recent fury suddenly resurgent. "I remember being dragged
away from useful work to hunt a phantasm. I remember wandering
aimlessly for days. I remember following charlatans in Temel." Past
frustration surged through him. Now he was spitting the words, intent
on stabbing Armadalus with every sentence.
"I remember the body
of a man unlucky enough to rob us in desperation. I remember a long,
slow, futile trek across Cloeasia. I remember humoring the inventions
of a fraudulent knight." Rageful tears came to his eyes.
"I
remember having to go into the woods alone," he snarled. "I remember
you and the Kai leading the soldiers. I remember a beast creature
slaughtering them all. I-"
Simey stopped and almost recoiled
from himself in horror. He quickly ran over in his mind the words he
had just spoken, hoping against hope that they had been different. Of
course not. He had just voiced his crystal clear recollection of
something that never happened; there was no escaping from it now.
Armadalus,
unusually - uniquely even - looked stunned. Simey turned away from the
knight's discomfitting stare and glanced at Wise Fox. The Kai's face
portrayed considerable confusion at Simey's rant, but his eyes betrayed
something else, a sort of hunger.
Simey did not know whose reaction was worse, but he desperately wished that they weren't in a building with only a single room.
There was nowhere to hide.
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Wise Fox Kai Lord
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Joined: Jun 2007 Gender: Male Posts: 6
| | Re: The West Watch « Reply #20 on Mar 18, 2008, 10:58am » | |
"Somewhere near Eshnar"
"The shock from hearing his own
voice, broke the attack that Wise Fox launched on his enemy, and for a
brief moment, the Kai Lord was able to see its "face".
The
attacker was something that all Kai Lords know and fear: a creature
whose existence is by itself a threat to all of Sommerlund. Actually,
few are the Kai who can claim that they weren't terrified when they
first met one of these servants of darkness; and this was indeed the
first time that Wise Fox met one, face-to-face.
A question was heard, yet the creature in front of him didn't made a sound: "Struggle is futile, filthy Lastlander... now.. what have you seen in Eshnar?"
The
Kai didn't respond, but his attacker wasn't looking for a verbal answer
either- before he had time to react, Wise Fox was again under a
powerful mental attack, and he could sense that the creature was
digging through his memories, like if it was rushingly looking for a
book in a library.
At this point, due to his physical
condition, a counter attack by the Kai was impossible, but strangely,
his opponent didn't seem like it intended to kill him, anyway.
While
under attack, Wise Fox was being forced to remember everything that had
happened since he arrived at this cursed city, tortured by the
creature's will. But whatever it was that happened in Eshnar, it had
almost been completely erased from Wise Fox's mind.
The aggressor, sensing this, hissed with despair:
" You have no more use... for now..."
Those
were the last words that Wise Fox heard before passing out, along with
the image of an Helghast assuming his form and walking towards the
couple of figures, that he now remembered as being Simey and
Armadalus."
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beowuuf Kai Lord
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Joined: Oct 2006 Gender: Male Posts: 640 Location: Basingstoke, UK
| | Re: The West Watch « Reply #21 on Mar 18, 2008, 2:40pm » | |
Somewhere near Eshnar
Beowuuf's sense of geography of the
northern lands, when relating to smaller details, had been hazy. It had
surprised him previously the distance of the Maaken temple from the tip
of the Maakengorge by the Darklands. And now consequently it shocked
him when he listened to the conversation of those before him and
realised how close he was to Eshnar. The place seemed so unreal, a
distorted vision and demonic name of fear devoid of the original
connotation. A simple town, city now, on the borders of Sommerlund and
the Lastlands. Not a city nor town anymore.
This was, of course,
not the greatest shock that Beowuuf had had in that regard when
investigating the three figures he had spotted.
Beowuuf had
approached the three figures cautiously, even more so when he realised
that one bore the green of a Kai Lord. Things might not be what they
seemed, infact to his recent memory things were never as they seemed,
and so Beowuuf felt that stealth and shielding of his mind as best he
could were a prudent course of action to begin with.
It flashed
a sadness in Beowuuf that in a few moments his happy carefree existence
had turned back into a likeness of his previous life, more specifically
reminding him of his state of mind many months ago when he first
visited Sommerlund, lurking at the edges and spying where he could.
As
Beowuuf had moved closer to the three, using what cover he could and
stretching his wolfish hearing and sight to breaking, he recognised the
figures and almost laughed at himself and carried on walking normally
passed them. For the three figures were from his dreams and waking
visions, or more precisely from the waking visions of the wolf creature
Sorba.
As Beowuuf had dared to get closer still, Beowuuf felt a
shiver. The talk, the discussion, the looks of the three - this was no
vision, no dream. That made the timing uncanny. If Beowuuf believed in
no other gods but the Magi his faith would have been rekindled now. By
chance he had found the three Sorba's visions had witnessed. Beowuuf
was close to Eshnar.
Beowuuf had felt strange at the talk, for
he probably held, somewhere in his mind and Sorba's disjointed visions,
the answers to the questions those men sought.
The Vakeros
knight and wolf creature could not get his mind around the coincidence
and probability, against the thought this was all some trick concocted
by Kollosco or Namanas or some other powerful agency. Perhaps the
answer was simple and obvious - the lich Hazelae herself still lived
and wished to finally capture the wolf creature sorba that had, through
his own blundering, been on her periphery.
Beowuuf's thoughts
were disrupted as the three moved, and the wolf kept a careful distance
tracking them to a destination. Finally they made their way to a cabin,
with Beowuuf still their silent shadow.
As Beowuuf thought it
through, it simply struck too many cords with his previous life to be
co-incidence. Beowuuf was more uncertain this was reality again. It had
to be a trick. Three figures from his visions, forcing him to act as he
had in what seemed a lifetime ago while stalking Sommerlund.
Back
then, many many months ago at the behest of a knight representative of
the Mangnamund Knights' council that had turned out to be a Helghast,
Beowuuf had spied in Sommerlund looking for evidence of the turning of
the Kai. This turning had been something Lord Gralmis had already
shared with Tamas, so it had been an easy lie to belief, the scale of
how widespread it was feared to be. It was easy to believe that certain
elements of Sommerlund, perhaps the king himself, would wish a
clandestine way to be sure - one to not scare the population, and more
importantly not tip off the Kai if something terrible had truly
happened. That Kai Lords had fallen to darkness. How deep could it
really go? Some remembered the clone Wolf's Bane in distant memory and
the recent defections of the Grand Master Failing Pheonix or the
bringer of Kragenskul Silent Storm. Had all the traitors left the
monastery or was an infection spreading deep inside?
Beowuuf had
trekked to the edges of Sommerlund, a deniable tool, looking for signs
of violence and strange occurances. He had also trailed Kai Lords
recruiting in the outer villages to ensure the recruiting was for pure
motives. Beowuuf had been cautious, though had confidence that for
lower ranking kai his mental defenses learned under Gralmis should
difuse his mind enough from detection. And that being on an honourable
non-violent mission would not trigger a Kai Lord's sixth sense for
danger.
In a way, some small twinges of rivalry that some of the
Kai and Vakeros possessed almost felt satisfied when Beowuuf was never
caught in his activities.
Beowuuf now stood by the door of the
hut, with exactly the same feeling now as back then. Except instead of
listening to a Kai lord patiently explaining to a parent the
specialness of non-specialness of their child, he was listening to the
rantings of the knight Simey to his companions.
Simey Vojske. Vojske. Why did that name still ring a bell - other than because of the Eshnar visions.
Beowuuf
then felt a chill as he listened that had nothing to do with the
night's air. Beowuuf was already chilled knowing that in his wolf's
mind he held many answers these three would dearly love to know, yet
answers he could not tell them for the reasons Beowuuf knew those
answers was barely believable. Answers that would be far too easy for
the three to presume Beowuuf knew because was in league with the forces
of Eshnar.
That was enough, but Beowuuf felt a deeper chill
listening to the words of Simey. The knight, Armadalus, had apparently
led a Kai on a crusade against a wolf creature? Beowuuf had gleaned
that Sir Armadalus was a good tracker. That Armadalus was a tracker of
the very thing Tamas now inhabited was again too much co-incidence. Too
much was wrong here. Beowuuf did not doubt anymore that this was real,
that these men were genuine, instead he just doubted that some external
agency was not pushing them all together into a potentially violent
confrontation.
Beowuuf realised his best course of action was to
leave. Run far away, and when back in the safety of Toran or the
Knights' council headquarters he could make arrangements to find these
three again and explore what he knew with them and those in power.
Beowuuf
backed away a step, but sadly his human mind had been engaged too much,
and to the annoyance of the wolf mind and body, and the chagrin of
himself, Beowuuf perfectly caught a resting tool on the hut side just
waiting for its opportunity for mischief.
Beowuuf winced and his
mind froze as his hand was flicked out too slowly. The malevolent
shovel clattered on the scattered stones around, making noise with
obvious glee.
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beowuuf Kai Lord
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Joined: Oct 2006 Gender: Male Posts: 640 Location: Basingstoke, UK
| | Re: The West Watch « Reply #22 on Mar 23, 2008, 11:02am » | |
Eshnar, sometime in the recent past
The power of Eshnar
was all around, twisting the mind, even though Barraka was beyond its
eddies now - or rather on the wrong side, He was submerged deep inside
instead of navigating the stream of it, but Barraka could still feel
the influence. Or perhaps hear was a better description.
Hazelae
whispered to the city, and the city whispered its constant words to the
departed, persuading flesh that was dead but had known life to remember
the old times. Whispers and echoes of old, magnified under the new
voice let the gentle persuasion begin. Life in death, motion where none
should be. That which had no ability to think and reason anymore could
be persuaded of much if it could only hear, could only listen to tales
of what once was and could be again.
As with all, there was
balance in the world. Where the whispers teased memories of life in
what was dead, those living overhearing the murmer would see death in
life. It was not an effect that was intended, perversely no external
agency could quite conjure up the same terror as a listener's own mind,
able to see the worst of all deaths as their greatest terrors were
prickled by a fearful sub-conscious.
Barraka strode forward,
unafraid of the undead who smelt the warm blood and flesh and regarded
him not, or even perceived the enemy they were being forced towards and
knew him as a fellow vassal. The strange dwarf in the yellow robes was
forcing his will on the undead, hoping to break them apart. Instead he
heard the whispers, and tears were in his eyes as he saw the tall
Telchos murdered before him.
Barraka could see both realities
weaving together, the one Eshnar was foretelling that was coming to
pass where the dead walked, and the one perverted from the whispers
where the living died. He saw Fren comfort a corpse of the undead then
run off.
Meanwhile, the giantess Renasta was pushing at the
undead with a runespear, knocked down on her back and about to succumb
to the surge of the undead. Barraka strode forward, remembering the
powerful strides he possessed when alive, realising that even now his
Gourgaz skinned boots, blackened and splitting with age and fire as
they were, were still on his feet and still echoed powerfully on the
hardened stony flesh of Eshnar's perverted streets. Barraka's presence
caused a few of the undead at the edges to falter, his physical bulk
forced yet more back, and his inhuman strength allowed him to push back
the final ranks.
"Have no fear," started Barraka to the prone
Telchos, and then there was nothing but agony as the runespear stabbed
powerfully into his side. Although organs no longer functioned and
nerve endings no longer twinged, there was still an intellectual shock
of the wounding, and a fear that it might be severe enough to break the
spell of the whispering, too obvious a deformity for the body to be
persuaded to ignore.
More importantly, however, was the pain
where no pain should exist. The runespear was powerful, an artifact of
great old kingdom magic to vanguish the agarashi and other evils. Evils
such as Barraka himself. Barraka lost himself for a time, as there was
nothing but the feel of the power of magic. He was lost in the flow and
felt it reject him, its terror and pain pushed back ito his...
...awareness. He had awareness.
He wrapped his hand around the pain in his side...
...he had a side. And a hand...attached to an arm, a powerful arm. And he had eyes and ears.
Barraka
came to himself seeing the determined Telchos try to push the runespear
further in. Barraka almost forgot his arm again, but remembered in time
that he had arms, and anger, and strength - more strength than in his
old life. He was...
...alive. More alive than ever. That was the correct thought.
The
screaming in Barraka's ears, the terrifying guttering high pitched howl
of the undead around suddenly registered, and Barraka realised he had
been making it himself. He wrenched the spear away from the Telchos's
hand even though it caused more pain, then pulled it quickly from his
own body.
The Telchos looked on in terror, as the wild eyes of
the foe before her and terrible howl like an unthinking animal
instantly ended, almost comically and therefore more terrifyingly
became intelligent orbs and gruff urbane tones.
"Please, there
is no need for that," said Barraka, regaining control. He waved the
runespear around dismissively. The Telchos looked on in terror still.
Her original terror was controlled as the visions that assailed her
lessened, but she found new reserves due to the new apparition Barraka
must appear to be. "You may indeed find," said Barraka returning the
spear to the tense Telchos, more to stop the maddening pain of it than
to reassure her, "that we have similar goals, you and I."
An
undead creature walked towards Barraka while the others fell back. The
creature was mishapen, but possessed eyes and a mout hand hands and it
raised all skywards while a mournful howl rent the air, similar to
Barraka's own earlier.
"I know, I know..." said Barraka, gently
approachign the creature. It quietened, turning milky yet seeing eyes
towards the man. "I know," said Barraka again, laying a hand on what
had been a shoulder. He then quickly moved it sideways and using a
powerful hand snapping the thing's neck not unkindly.
Barraka
turned with distaste back to the now standing Telchos who was
brandishing the spear. Barraka, despite the pain - or in some way
perhaps because of that small twinge that reminded him of life - took
the tip and turned it aside. "Please, as I said there is no need for
that. At least, not yet - better targets there are when the time is
right..."
Eshnar felt that act like a small smack to an
unruely child. Its mother let it run free and wilfully, not caring at
its behaviour, at its attention seeking. That someone would chastise
Eshnar so angered it...yet, also, made it feel regarded in other ways...
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