The Dibellan Worldflesh

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Docket: Forbidden Metaphor.

The following was sent to our Archive of Mythic Cartography by Sahadexia, a priestess of the Dibellan art, during the first and last leg of her alleged “vision-tour of the heavens.” We ask that you keep it in safe hands, as the Empire has banned all distribution of the uncensored document.

It should be taken with a grain of salt, as she is, by all accounts, completely insane.

Geography

The surface is a throbbing mass of clitoral steppes; distended, priapic outcroppings; tongue-textured grassland, and towering labrum surrounding deep fissures of a personally familiar nature. The ground congeals around your feet with each step, pulsating quietly. Plantlife is rare, and comes mostly in the form of strange, foul-smelling fungi that cover miles of land at a time. To the south is a jungle of fur and gush, where a cult of benevolent sadists rule; unfortunately, I have yet to witness it myself. The wind carries a chorus of chiming moans with it, their source a long mystery to me.

Inhabitants

The caretakers of this world are a race of angelic homunculi, stitched together from the spiritual mirrors of the Dibellan priesthood. My guide, for instance, wears the head of a Nibenese Rose (extinct in the Mundus), the breasts of both a Nordic Bed-Wife and an Altmeri sensitician, and the body of a Nibenese priestess who, by divine providence, I believe to be my mother. None have hair; tradition dictates that any that is gifted to them be used for clothing, though they wear precious little. They live peaceful, meditative lives, at one with the land both literally and allegorically.

I am told they have not seen a mortal since Reman the Venereal, who taught them forbidden arts of his own devising, and was in turn taught the Dibellan Mysteries, which speak of the various pressure-points, nerve fibers, weak-spots, secret orifices and extraneous-subhearts of the exalted body, though he was soon banished for failing to comprehend the Six-and-Nine Commandments of Willing Bodily Contact.

Art

The artistic traditions of the caretakers bear striking similarities to those of the Dibella-cults in Nibenay; irregularity of form, softness of tone, and depth of emotional expression are all prized. Most art depicts distinctively human or elven subjects, but distorted in shape and size; at first, the colors seem random and haphazard, but continued study slowly reveals intricate patterns of pink and red.

Goddess

I have had the privilege of seeing the Face of the Goddess once, accompanied by my guide and a tribal elder with the face of a moth. They lead me deep into the wilds at dawn, describing it to me. Each line contradicted the last, though they spoke as if telling a single narrative; she would come as a mountain or a star or a herd of cows; she would speak in tongues or cries or not at all; she would be the size of a tooth or a sword or a city.

Our journey ended at the summit of a towering mountain, and what I saw was none of these at all. The Face of the Goddess was composed of every body I had ever touched or seen touched, pressed together in the shape of a woman, all woman. Her eyes were starry caverns of pleasure, filled by the light of the sun. Her hair was a swirling tangle of colors unseen, shifting and glimmering beyond the mortal spectrum. On her skin were distorted patterns of red and pink, moving in tandem with the rhythm of her flesh. When she opened her lips, I saw a million acts of sanctified lust contained within, and the moans of the wind rose out, a hymn to the Divine Aesthete, Di-Bel-La.