Retaliation part 3

In which our Mistress gets acquainted with a seriously mopey servant of She Who Thirsts and sees the eldarith language butchered. 


Story: Retaliation part 3
Author: torture-device

There is precious little that I can add to what my dear Lord Vect already mentioned in the last part. I am however glad to see him back in spirits after that last bout. It is always disheartening to see him so desiccated as he was then, utterly drained of essence and looking very old indeed. 

I fancy my last tour in the arena with those beady-eyed Astartes of the Emperor's Children served some ways to reinvigorate him. 

And speaking of which. 

As Lord Vect has remarked upon, one of the main problems with torture-device taking up the reins after WalkingMaelstrom is, apart from his atrocious English, the fact that we have what TVTropes describes as Mood Whiplash. 

We've shifted from the over-the-top violence and anime influences of WalkingMaelstrom's writing (though I am loathe to call it that) to something that bears more semblance to H.P Lovecraft and Frank Herbert. And small wonder, as at least one of those authors are listed as torture-devices influences on his DevianTART frontpage. He also lists an "A. Hitler", for the record. 

The story begins with Torturer being decapitated. Before you rejoice, remember that he went into trance last episode and that this is all happening in dreamland. The first page is quite well-written, and I started off thinking we could leave this series alone for a while. 

I guess that is the reason I am a gladiator and not an Archon. 

Then, he saw it. A humongous pile of rotting human heads, a pyramid half-drowned in the putrid mud. They were still talking, still whispering with severed voice chords, and the Raptor saw how those contracted on the neck stumps. Bluish, bloated, they all merged into a rhythmical groaning of despair and defeat. He tried to say something, to test if he too had the strange ability to talk, but... 

The whole scene is ruined by the use of the word "humongous". And the typos, which were absent for half a page and then start to flock in on us like carrion birds. 

He actually chats a bit with the thing that decapitated him before the scene shifts to one of battle. Torturer looks dumbly at what is going on and that earns him a swift blade in the gut. He then wakes up. 

We're back on board the Engine of Obscenity, Torturer's flying pink dildo with the never-ending rave party on board. Torturer tries to explain his visions to Zekkel, who replies while channelling Yoda. 

"You shouldn't be interpreting any visions as a decision of the Powers, no. Those areas? Closed from the mortal minds, they are, one cannot peek into those no matter their aptitude, not at all. Messages, direction, warnings? Yes, that'd be correct and wise, right?" 

"Good, serving Slaanesh is , yes? Hmmm?

Torturer then mentions having seen an Asur. This has me puzzled. By the description, he was clearly killed by some Howling Banshee, not a Dire Avenger. Unless it was an Exarch, as they are sometimes referred to as Children of Asur. 

Don't tell me torture-device thinks Asur is the name for Craftworld Eldar? 

Asur is an old name for the dead god Asuryan, which the flaccid Craftworlders still cling to like a babe to its mother's teats. Asur never was a name given to the Eldar as a species. It is actually the name for High Elves in Warhammer Fantasy. 

Either way, this gets Torturer down, and he sits and mopes about not being the best and not being the most special of snowflakes. 

This goes on for nearly a page. 

Then Zekkel does this: 

He struck a dramatic pose, a tattooed finger outstretched to the ceiling. 

"You're being all wrong, my Lord! Don't believe in yourself, no, don't! Believe in Slaanesh that believes in you! Remember the times when it was only by the favor of the Dark Prince that we've been left among the living! Hepathx, Murgos Prime, the attack of the Dark Reapers, doesn't ring to you?" 

I think we just had another mood whiplash, as this reminds me of Mighty Guy and his over-blown poses and proclamations of "the power of youth!". 

Accurate depiction of Zekkel.

They are then interrupted (I guess with Zekkel still in his silly pose) by a servitor who announces that a "demo" of something is ready. What this is, is not elaborated on. 

Before they leave, Torturer suddenly remembers that he has something to give to Zekkel. 

As the thin slice of light was erased from the floor, the Raptor jolted up, as if bitten. 

"I've almost forgot, Brother Demagogue... I've managed to salvage a gift for you from the din of the battle and hadn't since remembered to hand it to the rightful owner! Thought you'd appreciate the gesture. It's in my shrine. Take it, tell me what you think." 

Zekkel bowed reverently, and approached the in-built shrine in the west corner of the Chamber, his left bionic foot clanking awkwardly as he moved.  The tattooed demagogue took note of how unkempt the portal was – Torturer had dumped all that he deemed as a trophy upon the ivory carved shelves and reliefs in total disarray. A few Astartes helmets lied at the feet of the 4 meter high statue of the Secret Keeper, and the ornate cups that the sculpture had held in its many appendages were brimming with skulls, pieces of jewelry and dried skins. But then he saw it, what his Lord meant, and took it from the clasp of Keeper. He immediately recognized it.  Zekkel looked at the Raptor, sprawled in the still open hypnosleep capsule, his face showing off respect and immense gratitude. 

I just love how this entire scene is basically pulled out of the author's ass, as it uses the "Oh, I forgot!" trope once again. 

What is this gift? It's the Crozius Arcanum of Chaplain Moerchen! This begs the question of when the fuck Torturer managed to grab that, as they had to beat a somewhat hasty retreat from Grexx. It just reeks of late addition, so that Zekkel has a new weapon. That in turn begs the further question of when Inquisitor Fey managed to break it, because I sure as shit can't remember. 

This is a common problem with this series, by the way. It is so utterly forgettable, the actions of the characters amounting to nothing, that all they do is eventually irrelevant, even when you do try to remember as much as possible. 

Zekkel gives the crozius a few swings and comments on the "perfect balance" of it. There was an actual echo in my chambers as I laughed at that. It sounded something like this: 

It's like when people talk of perfectly balanced chainswords. There is no such thing. A blunt, bludgeoning weapon like a crozius, which is essentially a large mace, cannot by its very function be balanced. 

We end the scene on Torturer sitting and thinking about how he's going to have further revenge on Moerchen by defiling Inquisitor Fey, showing us exactly how petty and small-minded he is. 

We next go to what I think is on board an Eldar vessel, as that is how it is described to us. We get a lengthy description of how Warlock Devonar positively loathes human beings (who doesn't?) but he doesn't have much choice but to co-operate with the smelly apes. During this, torture-device thinks it is a good idea to intersperse his spotty English with Eldarain, a language he knows even less about. 

The smell reeked of corruption and degradation, and as he closely watched the trio of Space Marines, he couldn't find in them that pillar of nobility they claimed to uphold. Yes, they were big, mighty and apparently quite determined – but, unlike some of the more radical and younger  of Asur, who, in various ways implied that the alliance with the so-called "Imperium of man" was a necessary action if for a time, he never truly believed that the mon'keigh's power could make a difference. At least not to the point where it could be compared with the might of his people.  What could they give them, what kind of asset, if not atherakhia and death lying in their wake? 

 Atherakia translates into English as destruction. Why not just use that word? 

The Astartes file in and sit down, with Haruch the medic whispering the following to Cailean: 

"They've put Moerchen in their stasis-type pod, I've seen it. Looks like he's alive, and they've helped to mend his limb. Not bad for xenos, eh?  I also voxed to the Stormtroopers, Xin's people will help transfer it to their camp, and then "Lux et Veritas" will send a Hawk down to take him and us home." 

Hang on, apparently they are still on the surface of Grexx?  They speak of sending a transport down to get them, after all? And Moerchen survived daemonic possession against all the odds? Great. So, why hasn't Cailean been tended to by a medic yet? There has been no indication of him having received medical attention, despite falling off an air-borne Thunderhawk gunship and then being blown through the air after the daemonic exorcism. 

Apparently his mental fatigue from before is gone as well, seeing as he attempts to pry at the warlock's mind without his psychic hood blowing out. Devonar shrugs him off and greets them instead in what I find a hilarious display of swallowed pride. 

"I greet you aboard the "Song of Vengeance", Aestartes. It is..." As the Warlock rose from his seat, he felt a certain reluctance in uttering the following words. "A great honor. Warriors to warriors – our hospitality is yours to enjoy, our minds – yours to consult with." 

So, they are on board a ship, that is on the surface of Grexx? How is that possible? You know what, I give up, because I find myself sympathising more and more with this kitten: 

Their ship has also gotten into the Imperial system of Grexx without being noticed. See, with Eldar, I do not question it as we have the technology, but it still begs far too many questions for comfort. 

What follows are quite a few pages of tedious info-dump. It is essentially the attempt at a plot beyond Cailean and Torturer having a galactic dick-waving competition. 

It boils down to that Torturer raided an Eldar vessel full of "refugees" some "10 standard cycles ago". How much is a standard cycle? I don't know. A revolution of the galaxy? A standard Terran year? The expected life-span of an Eldar in the Materium? 

It is interesting to note that as Eldar are often perceived (wrongly) as weak and effeminate by the mon-keigh, that in these stories they, just like women, are made out as victims and very seldom anything else. It's a bit of a theme. What Torturer wanted from the Eldar is revealed to be the Bonesinger on board, and it is shown that he also speaks the Eldar language. I can only guess that he is a bad at it as his creator. 

The sequence also shows off Cailean as quite a dim bulb. 

Devonar once again listened to the slave of Whom that Thirsts distort the blessed words of Asur. Each syllable raked against his mind, every word uttered – an insult that couldn't be forgiven. 

"He's not talking in Gothic, is he?" The Epistolary inquired. 

No shit, you idiot? If it doesn't sound like Gothic, it probably isn't Gothic! And torture-device continues to refer to the language and the species as Asur. 

But it makes me wonder where in the hell Torturer learned the language in the first place? I hardly think he'd be able to pry much out of his Eldar sex slaves, as he seems to either kill them or fuck them senseless and then kill them. 

The summary of the brief is that Torturer and his band has been raiding Eldar "refugee ships" for some time, stealing information from their databanks (torture-device is not familiar with the concept of encryption, it seems) and kidnapping Bonesingers. What for, Devonar doesn't know. 

Then we're treated to this gem: 

Cailean was no fool. He knew that his battle brothers and superiors often viewed him more as a warrior, not a tactician, but it was just that he preferred to keep that part of his personality to himself,  never emphasizing the depth of insight into many matters he possessed. The Warlock made the same mistake of judging him as a brute. 

The reason people think Cailean a fool is because he acts like one. Telling us he isn't one is not going to help his situation if what we're shown is the complete opposite! 

The tedious back and forth continues, with it being implied that Craftworld Ulthwé has limited resources. 

I don't know about you, but a craftworld that willingly stands in the way of the servants of She Who Thirsts and openly challenges the Chosen of the Dark Gods, is not a craftworld with limited resources. 

The further implication is also that Craftworld Ulthwé hasn't got the means to handle one measly little warband of Chaos Space Marines. They went toe-to-toe with Abaddon the Despoiler, and can't handle Torturer? And the only ones who can help them are the Imperial Paladins, lead by Cailean, and not Chapter Master Quintus, mind! 

No further proof of these two characters being massive Gary-Stus is needed. 

The group come to some sort of conclusion, in that the Imperial Paladins will help the Eldar of Craftworld Ulthwé with a crusade. What exactly they plan on doing, is left to guess-work, as the scene finally fades out at that. 

We fade-in again to see the Space Marines walking back to their waiting Thunderhawk, and during which, Veridus (or was it Verdius?) questions Cailean's cold-hearted killing of their only witnesses and leads in the last part and gets promptly slapped across the face for it. I don't know about you, but I think Cailean might be insane: 

The Librarian focused on his armored fist, the knuckles nearly splattered with tiny blood drops. How easy it is, to hurt and harm, he mused detachedly, when the truth is on your side. How wonderfully delightful to fix errors and mistakes, and what precision it takes. Veridus has to learn conduct, and it won't come at an easy price. But the Epistolary tried not to acknowledge the images that flashed in his head a split part of a second before he smacked the insolent marine, images that hadn't anything to do with his orders to maintain hierarchy and discipline. He could've hit harder, let his arm pass through the defenseless muscle and bone like a rock thrown from a  primitive sling and watch Veridus's surprised expression before it explodes in bits of gore... 

The best part is that Veridus accepts his bitch-slapping and admits he did something wrong. So, questioning the soundness of mind of your superior officer, when it is obvious your sergeant somewhat agrees with you, is now insolence? I understand that one must maintain discipline, but there is a time and place for everything. 

This was not the place for a pimp hand. 

And then the part ends. 

_________________________________________

This part was essentially about Torturer tripping out and moping about it, as well as it was about Cailean meeting with some snot-faced warlock. Not much happened, really. 

Makes me wonder where the retaliation we were promised went? 

With that, I leave you to the tender mercies of Lord Vect once more. 

I'm off to see if I can find some new slaves to try out new techniques on. That comment about the crozius made me want to practice my own skills with a mace. 

//L

Retaliation part 2

In which the enduring Supreme Overlord is shocked by enormous, spontaneous mood-swings...


Story: Retaliation part 2
Author: Torture-Device

You may, dear reader, find all of this very amusing. I am somewhat inclined to agree.

It takes a certain determination to make an end-product from this, to sift through a pile of mud and feces and pluck out diamonds. It can be most wearisome. But there is still amusement to be had at the deeper things one finds.

For instance, this Torture-Device fellow.

Sweet Lelith already mentioned that he is supposedly a journalist. Also that he is Russian.

To the man's credit, he's never really "exploded" at criticism of his art, mainly because the only people who generally comment negatively on his paintings or drawings are the ones who connect his ideology to his creativity (Occasionally a fair connection, but not always). Nearly every other person who comments on his stuff is one of many lame-brained well-wishers who flock to him like lambs.

Seriously, just look at these.

A couple good, independent artists, some of whom share his interesting ideas on life, and of them a handful comment on the picture as a piece of art and discuss its merits and weaknesses.

Then a million other "OMGSOBEAUTIFUL" comments from people with hastily-made flashing swastika icons.

When you look at the comments on Retaliation part 1, it's the exact same babble. The very first comment is, "Oh snap son, epic stuff right here 83 <3". Nobody says a word about the writing itself. The most critically inclined comments run along the lines of "I like this character" or "He reminds me of this guy..."

Torture-Device is viciously active in the deviantart forums, and many of the people who watch him do so only because he is one of the more unique performing jesters there, not because he's a decent artist, and the comments on his artwork reflect this.

Torture-device insists on speaking English and writing stories in English, but he's fucking horrible at it. He is completely forgettable when it comes to nuances such as grammar and plot structure.

And I assure you, the plots he works out with WalkingMaelstrom suggest he can't think things through before he sits down and starts slamming against a keyboard.

The main reason that I ever even heard of this series was because I came across this picture right here:

I get off to the sight of craftworlders being violated.

And here, we see Torturer raping a couple of aspect warriors like it's no big deal. He looks like he's enjoying himself in his depravity. But this is, unfortunately, a far-cry from the Torturer he writes about.

Why do I bring this up?

Look at the picture of Torturer in the title-card, then compare it to Torture-Device's "original" work and you will know just how much he obsesses over this series.

Part 2 opens with...

Torturer stretched slowly, each movement as a test of his body. Joints clicking in place, implants writhing under the skin like metallic worms buried deep in the flesh, the faint creak of muscle tissue being pumped full of blood - all the sounds coiled into a melody praising his physique. The inevitable pain that stemmed from the newly healed wounds only added to the delightful feeling of restoring. His body was working. Flawlessly.

Torturer stretching? And being flawless?

So right off the bat we are met with Torturer slapping Razorwire's shit in an apparent sparring match, and we get the sense that it's been a while since the titanic hours-long "battle". Torturer probably booked it from Grexx faster than a basilisk on water, and his wounds are healing, so we can assume it's been at least a few days since his faux-battle with Cailean.

At least, I think he's fighting Razorwire. Might be he's not. This passage is a tad confusing.

Stimulants rolled lazily down his veins, granting confidence and elation. Adding to the satisfaction was a long moan from the farthest corner of the training hall. The Noise Raptor slowly strode down to the hulked mass obscured by the shadow, and with a movement of his foot flung something away from it. A training battlehammer clacked on the floor, smearing blood across it. The Chaos Marine kneeled down and cocked his head to a side.

"Subordination, Razorwire. What I really should do…" Torturer picked up the heavy weapon and observed its bloodstained working surface. "Is take this and hammer the notion right into your head. Right? Because that's what any normal leader does when faced with such irreverence."

He heard the Havoc spit out blood and shift, trying to get up and continue the sparring, and promptly brought the hammers head into Razorwires outstretched arm. The force of the hit was enough for bone to let out a sickly "crack".

 Torture-Device is, recognizably, a far better writer than WalkingMaelstrom, and he makes the distinction of actually calling Razorwire a havoc, not a devastator, something which has irked me greatly these last several parts. But the problem is still that his English is atrocious, and it can become very weird, very quickly.

So the author takes the next several pages to shed a bit of light on the behavior of his self-insert, and sure enough he's all moody because he "lost" to some dumb stain of a psyker. From the narration, it is further implied to us that Torturer's ship is alive and completely out of the crew's control.

Such actions would disturb the "Engine of Obscenity." That was undesirable. Who knew where she would take them when angered?

Further, it seems he is going around without a gellar field on his ship, which begs the question how he has not been utterly swallowed. The warp is a fickle place.

And another thing!

The paragraphing is uncanny in Torture-Device's writing. He has lines that are separated by single spaces and then some sections are double-spaced, and while I usually prefer double spacing because of how easier it is to distinguish between lines.

But with Torture-Device, he's going between the two interchangeably, and it doesn't work.

During the flight, the only human that that was forced to bear the full weight of Torturers dysphoria as he had to remain glued to the commanding bridge, was the Captain.

Torturer knew how to pilot a small fighter ship, like the one he hijacked from the Blood Disciples.

Note the complete non sequitur there. But that paragraph is then followed a couple spaces down with:

But the "Engine of Obscenity" was a big, Infidel raider vessel, a home for 91 mortal entities, basically a floating cathedral crammed full of weapon systems, praying chambers, generators and warp drives. He had no ability to submit and pilot such a ship, so every time he'd reach the peak of his frustration with Captain Tarregus, he'd back off well knowing that the latter is too vital an object. And Captain Uthark Tarregus was a brave man.

  That particular paragraph just goes on without any spacing at all. Torture-Device does not know how to make text presentable.
You must give it to him, he knows how to craft a scene at the least, but that's all I can really grant after several misspellings, tense-shifts, comma splices, comma misuses, improper capitalizations, quotation mark-abuses, and on and on.

So later, Torturer goes to visit Zekkel, and then is polite enough to remind us he has functioning naughty bits.

"This…"  he returned to the capsule and shook the piece of flesh in Torturers direction. "Is so you, isn't it? You should agree, definitely should."

"She sucked me dry, I granted her a quick death." Torturer smiled slightly beneath the mask. He thought of a small box, full of blood-red, slightly shimmering jewels. It was getting fuller with each day as he pulled an Eldar slave out of a holding cell. He always found their soulstones, despite their attempts to hide them in most peculiar places, even within their own natural orifices. But he, Torturer, had a real hound nose for the soulstones.

 
Am I seeing this wrong, or was it just implied Torturer sticks his nose up craftworlder asses?

How gauche! And yet arousing.

I should point on something of an oddity. Torturer insists he have order and respect in his warband, despite being knee-deep in debauchery for the sake of She Who Thirsts. As if the Chaos gods were anything but chaotic! Any traitor space marine pact I've ever encountered was a rag-tag mess of men all ready to cut one-another's throats, stayed only by the promise of better riches through cooperation.

And Zekkel is revealed to be the absolute master of bad insults:

"Assault on the loyalist fleabags – total success, it was!"

 You're really cool, Zekkel. Calling people fleabags.

Torturer is apparently in need of cheering up, which is why he is seeing Zekkel. If anything, I suppose the "demagogue" is good for that. Their conversation largely revolves around Zekkel consoling Torturer, because the "noise raptor" is depressed at having not killed a Librarian.

And this is where suddenly, I sense something is horribly wrong.

"I nearly get killed! Had Tarregus and is men fail to teleport me, my brains would be splattered all over that warp-forsaken rock!"

Torturer and the Sick Six were flown away in a random Thunderhawk in Symphony of Chaos part 2, not teleported! Could it be that Torture-Device isn't actually reading from WalkingMaelstrom's writing? I'm beginning to think so. The two write so differently from one-another that these sorts of contradictions and retcons make reading even more difficult than it already was.

This becomes even more worrying when we shift to Cailean's perspective, who we must hear from because unfortunately someone somewhere (a certain author) insists he is the greatest opposition to Torturer there is.

The Librarian though, knew nothing of the hate the Interrogator bore for him and his kind. Probably he wouldn't even care if he knew. He was consumed by his own brand of loathing, and after he pushed a ragged curtain away to reveal a trio of tied up cultists clustered under the watchful barrels of two Stormtroopers, that somewhat pleasing feeling inflated in his chest. One of the troopers turned to the Space Marine, mouth agape in amusement and stammered, greeting him.

"Your Hi-highness, b-but, Lieutenant Ksi-Xin… She h-ha…had orders… "

Cailean's stare lacked any of the paternal softness often attributed to the god-like marines, and Trooper Rale felt himself a sizzling away insect as the Librarian towered over him, the golden eagle on his helmet scratching at the piece of ferrocrite plating above them. In a second, all his desire to follow Xin's, or anyone else's orders, if they were in disagreement with the marine's wishes, evaporated. He lowered his eyes and stepped away, somewhat shaken. Two other marines, Veridus and Seo followed, and soon the small compartment, hastily built up, was completely crammed. Pain hissed behind the Astartes' backs that he's got full rights to the heretics and that he, as the Lady Inquisitor's Interrogator, should be doing the questioning first, but no one listened to him.

When did Cailean become so utterly frightening? This is a completely different character from what we saw last part, let alone in WalkingMaelstrom's writing! Somewhere along the lines he gained a loathing for mortals and a murderous rage, as opposed to his conveniently-timed exclamatory battle-anger.

My favorite part of that, though is how the storm trooper (once again, battle-scarred badass) is gaping in amusement. Apparently he found Cailean so ridiculous he could not physically summon laughter.

With a psychic hood like that, who can blame the trooper?

And then it begins to get really weird.

The Librarian felt his lips form an unpleasant smile. Crying. The woman should've cried a long time ago, the very moment when the thought of turning away from the Emperor's light crossed her mind. Now, however, it was time to reap the fruit of it, so why cry? This world, thought Cailean, would much better, if people learned to accept the consequences. People. These, however, were people no more. With such a conclusion, he grabbed the technician heretic by the cuff of his collar and hoisted him in the air, for better eye contact. The woman cried and attempted to stand up, but the barrel of an autogun stuck in her ear made her sit back again.

Then the point of view quite suddenly shifts to the cultist he's just lifted up, Ioruk Korr, who we are told was so excited to fight space marines he looked up how to beat them on the holonet. No, I refuse to even comment on this supposed holonet.

Cailean casually crushes his neck and moves on to the next one, with a smile that makes even me uncomfortable. Seo then appears and grows perturbed by the epistolary's behavior. He insists the Inquisition be left to finish interrogating the cultists, but Cailean simply laughs at him.

"You know what I can do to these worthless little animals? Can the Inquisition do this?"

He looked back at Lynn once. With a flick of his wrist, the channeled psychic energy that he had been harboring coursed down his arm. It was painful.

The reality was that he was completely drained and exhausted in the previous battle and the attempt to perform exorcism on the Death Spirits' Chaplain. Now, releasing the last stored energy felt like tearing veins away from his body, like some force had sliced him open and ripped his nerves out. His arteries bulged and darkened from the effort, the hood sending sparks flying from the overload. But at the same time, it was needed.

It took upon the form of electricity, as nearly always. Cailean sensed the lightning lick at his palm and then dash at the victim of his righteous fury.

Lynn went up in flames. The agony was instant as the tied up woman began burning alive, enveloped in shroud of what appeared to be pulsing azure flames that seemed to rapidly shred layer after layer of the exposed skin and cloth of the captured woman.

The Inquisitorial troopers jumped away and even the Exorciatior went aghast at the sight of the heretic's flesh melting and popping under the force of the psychic fire. Trooper Rale raised his gun to put an end to the screaming woman, but Cailean, upon noticing that, steered the gun's barrel away from Lynn. He wouldn't allow someone to intervene in the moment when vengeance took its place. All the time, he'd been watching the woman, tracking her thoughts. It was all pain, pure pain, and not an ounce of repentance. He gritted his teeth. All useless, all the same. But on another level – it was sure nice to see things fall back in order. It somehow patched up that hole in his mind, the hole that lead to a place he preferred not to think about.

There are no words.

---~~~---

Well, that left me wondering who's really the good guy in this series. That may have been Torture-Device's intent, though. The idea that he might have accomplished his goal scares me.

It would appear my language grows coarser with each passing review. I attribute this to the asinine nature of this series and the constant feeling I'm being quietly insulted.

I need a break to take the edge off of this. Dear Lelith is performing tomorrow night, so hopefully that will make for a rejuvenating experience. Seeing her lithe form, spinning and sailing through sprayed gore and severed limbs, her hair flowing and clattering with the jingle of a hundred blades as blood splatters onto those high cheekbones and showers her exposed form...

Simply beautiful.

The thought of seeing Lelith's dance of death makes me randy. I might have to call up that harlequin and his mate that Ilathin mentioned. I am told they can do wonderful things with their contortions.

Ta ta, my sweet little readers!

- V.